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kisses-for-you · 1 year ago

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Preference: They accidentally hurt you

Titans Characters X Fem!Reader

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Gar Logan, Conner Kent, Kory Anders, Donna Troy & Hank Hall.

Dick Grayson:

You and Dick had gotten into an argument and it was getting heated. He was risking the team's life by making stupid and reckless decisions, or at least that's what they were in your opinion.

Without thinking, you yell, "You don't have to risk everyone's lives just because Jason died and you think it's your fault!"

SLAP!

Dick's hand makes contact with your face as he slaps you in a fit of rage. The room seems to freeze as Dick's eyes widen with horror at the realisation of what he's just done. Your hand instinctively reaches to your cheek, the hurt in your eyes making your boyfriend feel even more guilty.

Dick immediately recoils, his expression shifting from anger to deep regret. "Fuck. Y/N, I... I didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice filled with remorse. He takes a step back, grappling with the weight of his actions. His eyes search yours, pleading for forgiveness, but the pain in your gaze is palpable.

Dick takes a hesitant step forward. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry," he murmurs, regret etched across his face. He reaches out to cup your cheek, however, fear grips you, and you instinctively shrink back, avoiding his touch.

"I need some space," you finally manage to say, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and sadness. He nods solemnly, understanding he fucked up badly.

Jason Todd:

You and Jason were training and since you were still fairly new to the team, you thought it'd be nice to train with Jason as you're the closest with him.

You're meant to block his hits but as the bo staff heads your way, you hesitate for some reason and react too late, resulting in Jason accidentally hurting you as the staff strikes you. It's just a small mistake and it doesn't hurt too badly but he immediately rushes to your side.

"Shit. Babe, are you okay?" His concerned expression mirrors his regret. You give him a small, reassuring smile, saying, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's probably just a small bruise anyway. Let's just get back to training."

He shakes his head, still looking guilty even though it wasn't his fault. "No, let's just finish here. You shouldn't keep training if you're hurt. We can always train tomorrow," Jason insists, genuine concern in his eyes. You know there's no point in arguing with him, so you just sigh and nod.

Gar Logan:

You and Gar were alone in the Titans Tower, where Gar was struggling to stay in his human form. He was incredibly upset (you didn't know why) and his intense emotions were causing him to shapeshift into an animal, which he was trying to prevent.

"Y/N.. You need to.. go," he whispers, his voice strained as he tries to fight against the transformation. Concern etched across your face, you refuse to leave his side. You assure him, "Gar, I'm not leaving you alone like this."

You try to reach out to touch his trembling hand, but before you can make contact, Gar involuntarily shifts into a green tiger. In his tiger form, Gar loses control and accidentally swipes at you with his claws. The scratch isn't too deep, but it's enough to draw blood and sting, causing you to step back in shock. Gar, now more distressed, manages to regain control, turning back into his human form as he apologizes frantically.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I- I lost control. I didn't mean to hurt you," he stammered, rushing to your side, panic etched across his face.

You assess the scratch on your arm, trying to downplay the pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. "Gar, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. Besides, it doesn't even hurt that bad."

Gar, tormented by guilt, searches for a first aid kit in the Tower. As he tends to your wound, you insist that it wasn't his fault, attempting to calm him in his distressed state. While Gar is patching up your wound, you notice a mixture of guilt and fear in his eyes. You gently take his hand and reassure him, "Gar, accidents happen. Don't blame yourself." Despite your comforting words, Gar remains visibly distraught, haunted by the fear of potentially causing you harm again.

Conner Kent:

Conner had just returned from a mission with the Titans. He looked exhausted but relieved as he walked through the door. You greeted him with a warm smile, knowing how tiring his superhero responsibilities could be.

As Conner hugged you, his thoughts wandered to what happened during the mission. He started to get lost in his thoughts, and his strength momentarily slipped out of his control. He squeezed you too tightly, causing you to wince as the force of the hug became too much. You were left in a little pain, and probably with a bruise. Conner looked concerned as you pulled away, realising what he had just done.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I don't know what happened. I started thinking about the mission and then I just..." Conner rambled, trying to explain and apologize to you. But you interrupted him and said, "Conner, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to. Don't worry about it." No matter how much you try to reassure Conner, however, he still feels guilty and blames himself for hurting you, even if it was accidental.

For the next couple of weeks, he's extra careful around you and way more gentle. He also tries to find ways to make it up to you; he doesn't need to though because you know he didn't mean to do what he did.

Hank Hall:

You and Hank had been watching a football match on TV together, enjoying the rare day off. As Hank headed to the kitchen to grab you both a drink and some snacks, an idea sparked in your mind. You decided you were going to scare him; it was a fairly innocent idea.

Within a couple of seconds, you start to tiptoe after him, planning to playfully surprise him. You just wanted to see his reaction so you could make fun of him if he screamed like a girl (you never know, he might). As you reach the kitchen door, you take a deep breath, preparing to unleash your surprise.

However, as you sneak up behind him and scream, Hank's reflexes kick in. In an instant, he spins around, his combat instincts taking over. Before either of you can even realise what's happening, his hand shoots out and strikes you right in the face. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel the sudden impact.

Time seems to freeze for a moment as you both register what just happened. Hank's eyes widen in shock and horror as he sees you wince from the unintentional blow. Concern fills Hank's eyes as he drops whatever he is holding in his hands, rushing to your side. "Oh fuck, babe, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he blurts out, panic evident in his voice.

You hold your nose, pretty sure you have a nosebleed. "I'm... okay." As the initial shock wears off, you can't help but let out a nervous laugh. "At least now we know that your instincts are top-notch," you quip, trying to lighten the mood despite the pain you're feeling. You move your hand away from your face, revealing a trickle of blood from your nose. Hank winces, guilt written all over his face.

He quickly grabs a tissue from the nearby counter, handing it to you with a mix of concern and remorse in his eyes. "I didn't mean to... I just thought..." Hank stammers, struggling to find the right words to express his regret. You take the tissue and give him a reassuring smile, realizing it was just an unfortunate accident.

"It's okay, Hank. It was my idea to scare you like that so if anything, it's my fault," you say, dabbing at your nose. Despite the pain, you can't help but appreciate the genuine worry in his eyes.

Kory Anders:

You and the Titans were preparing for another battle against an intimidating villain who was threatening the city of San Francisco. You were standing by Kory's side, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. Tonight, the stakes were higher than ever before. The villain, known as Mother Mayhem, was ready to unleash chaos upon the city. Kory's eyes were glowing with determination as she walked towards the impending threat. You followed closely, aware of the danger that awaited you.

As the confrontation continues, Mother Mayhem launches a devastating attack that catches both you and Kory off guard. In a moment of panic, Kory's powers surge uncontrollably, and a burst of energy erupts from her, unintentionally striking you. The impact sends you flying to the ground and pain radiates through your body.

Kory's eyes widen in horror as she realises what just happened. She rushes to your side, leaving the rest of the Titans to deal with the threat. Her concern is evident in every step. "I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, kneeling beside you. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Despite the pain, you manage a weak smile, reaching out to reassure her. "It's okay, Kory. Accidents happen. Besides, we have a more important matter at hand," you say, referring to the villain you're currently fighting.

"I promise, I'll control my powers better next time," she vows, gently cradling you in her arms. She then stops to think, unsure of whether you should get back to the fight in your condition. "Are you sure you want to fight? I don't think that's the best idea for you right now, Y/N."

You nod, determination flickering in your eyes despite the pain. "I'll be fine, Kory. Just a little shaken, but I can still help. We need to stop her before things get worse." Reluctantly, Kory lets you go, her worry etched across her face. She stands up, taking a moment to make sure you're stable before rejoining the battle.

Donna Troy:

You and Donna were strolling through through the dimly lit alleyways of the city. As you turned a corner, a group of menacing thugs emerged from the shadows, surrounding you both. Donna's grip on your hand tightened instinctively as she stepped forward, ready to defend you from the impending threat.

Donna's eyes narrow, her instincts kicking in. She swiftly reaches for her lasso, the golden glow illuminating the dark alley. But you find yourself in the line of fire without even noticing. A sudden movement from one of the thugs causes you to stumble, and in an attempt to protect you, Donna swings her lasso with lightning speed. However, the unexpected jolt of the situation results in her accidentally striking you instead of the intended target.

Time seems to slow as the golden rope wraps around you, the energy coursing through your body. A surge of pain shoots through your veins, and you gasp as the unexpected impact takes you by surprise. Donna's eyes widen in horror as she realises her mistake, immediately releasing the lasso. The thugs seem to take this as a chance to run and escape. Stunned and in pain, you stagger backwards, clutching the area where the lasso struck you. Donna rushes to your side, her concern evident in her eyes. "Fuck. Y/N, I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her voice filled with regret.

As Donna checks on you, you assure her that you're okay, though the pain still lingers. The two of you decide to go back to her apartment to assess the situation and tend to your injuries. Donna's guilt is palpable, but you understand it was an accident in the heat of the moment. Together, you make your way back, Donna keeping a protective arm around you.

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ornii · 1 year ago

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Hey, don't know if it didn't delivered and/or you have done this before but.. Can we get some Hc's were (male)reader who's a werewolf like Enid and they both go into heat...?

I wasn’t able to work on the other one but I did get it! Been trying other content but I’ll finally get a chance to work on this one. Smut Warning.

Désir brûlant

Enid Sinclair X Male Reader, Smut ahead! Beware!

Being w Werewolf has It’s ups and downs, having Super strength, animal like instincts, the ability to transform into a massive hulking wolf man. Plus finding a mate was easy, they tend to pair off for life. But, there was one major drawback to this seemingly nice life.

Heat, very bad heat.

Heat cycles exist in Animals, and since werewolves are half human, half animal, it only stands that you’d have them as well. And that you did, this overbearing lust and emotional outbursts you’d have all due to the mixture of heritage. This year was no different so straying from girls was a must to avoid coming off as a creep, unfortunately there was one girl who was drawn to all things Creepy. Wednesday Addams.

Sitting in the back corner of the cafe, your pencil traced along the notepad for your Lycanthropy Homework, it’s usually child’s play for you, but something kept shoving its way into the focus of your mind. The notes began to fade and your mind wandered to the sense of touch, holding, touching, which quickly delves into intense, wild, bed breaking sex with, her.. you close your eyes and let instinct take over, it was all darkness. Until puffy blonde hair appears, beautiful emerald green eyes like a lush plane of emeralds, her face was unmistakable, it was Enid.

“(Y/n).” Your eyes shoot open to the sound of speien calling your name, you look up and a dark shroud darkens you. It was none other than Wednesday herself.

“Wednesday, I smelled black roses but, Nevermind. What’s up sunshine?” You Mutter. You met Wedensday by Proxy of Enid when she first darkened the Nevermore gates.

“I need your help with an.. issue.” She says, and sinks into the seat across from you. You casually place your pencil down.

“Look, depending on the size of the body, I can’t digest that much, it’s really bad for you.” You casually explain, Wedensday’s face was obviously a mix of conduit, but she cuts you off.

“That’s not why I’m here— let’s put a pin in that for later. This doesn’t require murder, yet.” She said, you lean back, gently covering your nose. Wednesday scowls a bit.

“Why are you covering you nose? Are you trying to imply something?” She said with her casual accusing tone.

“No, it’s just your… pheromones.” You can’t even look her in the eye, “I don’t want to end up drooling in front of you.” You admit.

“Humorous.” She replies deadpanned, “But this isn’t the first time, it concerns Enid.” She looks a bit, uncomfortable. Pushing your instincts down you wipe your mouth and look at her.

“Is something wrong? Is she okay?” You ask.

“She’s, different… making odd noises in the late night, I suspected her to be “Wolfing out” but that doesn’t seem the case, her whining, noises, it’s droning on and she’s not being cooperative.” Wednesday explains, “As a fellow wolf I assume you might have some insight.”

“Oh, I See.. yeah that makes sense.” You say to yourself.

“What do you mean?” Wedensday said.

“Heat Season. She’s probably struggling the way I am.” You explain, Wedensday looks down, thinking. “I hadn’t considered that option.”

“You didn’t think mating season would be a thing? It is for all of us, that and teenage hormones all mixed together…” you drone on, but stop. “Might want to keep your face away from hers. Might wind up with lipstick on it.” You say in jest, Wedensday having the sense of humor as a dead sewer rat, stares at you.

“She would do such a thing?”

“No Jesus, Wedensday I’m fucking with you, you’re probably not her type anyway.” You stand up, stepping out of the booth.

“Only real way for her to go back to normal is for her to wait out her heat season. Or…” you say, which catches Wedensday by surprise.

“Or what?…”

“You, give her what she wants…” you awkwardly admits.

“You mean, give you what you want?” Wedensday fires back, you try to act as if you have no idea what she means, but the sudden shift in your body language told her exactly what you had in mind. Wednesday thinks and then also stood up.

“I’ll be spending most of the afternoon in the cemetery, go get it out of her system..” she demands, and leaves, something about the way she said it. You felt almost compelled to, following up on Wednesdays “Offer.” More like a demand really, you awkwardly made your way to their room. Gently knocking on the door, you awaited a response for a moment.

“Hey, Enid?” You ask, Wedensday wanted me to Uh, Check on you..” you utter, you hear her shuffling and moving and the door opening. Enid was still as beautiful as ever, just with a very, tired look. Her eyes lit up for a moment seeing you, and a few very inappropriate ideas flooded her brain, she smiled.

“(Y/n)! It’s, really good to see you, really good.” She really extended her pronouncing on that one. You took the hint and leaned in slightly.

“Well, is there… anything I can do to—“ You could barely make out the sentence before you felt her hand grip your tie and yank you into the room.

3RD Person.

Enid wasn’t always so forward with things but to get the itch she’s been dying to scratch for so long, she took the first opportunity that came. It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to realize Enid had her hands on the door, pinning him against it and her lips assaulting his, her trying to coop herself in her room for the cycle to run its course wasn’t going to work, and Him drooling over her wasn’t going to help that. His hands gripped what part of her they could, her waist around his palms that get hotter each second, she was, surprisingly, barely wearing anything besides underwear that she was dying to tear off. Switching positions, Enids body was pressed against the door, this time (Y/n) taking the more dominant role as his lips pursed and kissed her neck, hard. (Y/n) stripped himself down to match her, sweat beading off both.

Her desperate moans crept into his ear, panting and gasping. “Harder, bite me, harder~” she pleaded, he gently let his teeth sink slightly into her skin, her body shivers, her nails digging into (Y/n)’s back as her grunts of pleasure were like music to (Y/n)’s ears. His enhanced strength lets him effortlessly Lift the girl up and walk her to Her bed, lying her down he mounts his mate and both are ready for the main course. His sex aligns with hers and his eyes locked with hers, he waits for a moment, to gauge wether she wants to go this far, Enid nods, looking lovingly into his eyes. He obliges, and slowly pushes inside, the hot wave of pleasure runs though them both, but Enid more, the way her head cocked back and the way her voice shivers as she yells “Fuuuuuuck~” as he enters. Her legs wrap around his waist, not letting him out. Her chest presses against his, holding (Y/n) tightly. His palms grip the bedsheets as he thrusts away, sloshing in her soaking wet depths, her cries of pleasure ring though the room. It only took a few thrusts for Enids to feel an orgasm coming.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“ she could barely let the worse escape her mouth before her body clenched around his, shaking in orgasm. (Y/n) pulled his throbbing shaft out and let his seed explode all over her stomach, both gasping for air they lie down together. (Y/n) wipes the sweat from his brow to recover, but he got no rest as he felt Enid this time Mount him, she didn’t hesitate to slide right down on his cock and ride away.

It was hours of passionate love, different positions, both being the dominant and submissive role in their relations. It was nearing midnight and Wednesday had given them ample time to get themselves together, she approached the door and opened it to the waft of sex hitting her nose, she, realizing the mistake she made walked to the window and opened it to air the room out, she completely ignored the exhausted duo lying on Enids bed.

“H-Hey, roomie…” Enid grumbles, tired.

“Good night Enid, (Y/n)?” She asks, he looks over to her.

“Yeah?” He asks, tired.

“Thank you for getting it out of her system.”

#netflix #male reader #wednesday #wednesday x reader #enid sinclair #enid x male reader #enid sinclair smut #enid sinclair x male reader #wednesday smut #smut #reader insert

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sim0nril3y · 1 year ago

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Push and Pull - Part 2

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon just can't seem to get you off his mind following the abrupt end to 'Push and Pull' Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mild angst, reconnection, joking about kidnapping a dog, Simon being his usual guarded self, canon-typical swearing

It had been a long couple weeks since your last interaction with Simon. In your head you understood that you were being a little sensitive that he hadn’t wanted something more with you, but there was another part of you that couldn’t help but feel used… You wondered, if he hadn’t wanted anything more serious then why had he strung you along so romantically? If he wanted sex and intimacy then why be so adverse to it in the beginning? Why not just sleep with you that first night and keep all emotions out of it?

“So, what happened to that bloke you were seeing?” Your friends voice broke through your fuzzy mind. It was a moving out party for one of her colleagues that was heading North. It wasn’t like you had even wanted to be here anyway, but she had convinced you it would be a good time with a bunch of booze – that promise was enough to get you into a nice dress and off your sofa watching re-runs of ‘Come Dine with Me’. “You seemed really into him…”

Yeah, you had been really into him, but… it clearly wasn’t meant to be. “Yeah. I think we were just both looking for different things.” You really didn’t need to spell it out for her to understand. An almost sympathetic look pulled across her face before she clinked her beer bottle against your own. “His loss, babe. I’ll go get us another couple of drinks.”

It was part hurt and part relief that there had been no communication within the past couple of weeks. He really hadn’t meant to make you feel like he was just using you, but maybe this way you might be able to move on and find someone that would be able to give you more than he was able to. Simon really hadn’t the thought of you being with someone else. He hated thinking about you teasing and laughing with them. He hated thinking about you on your knees for them. He hated thinking about your mind being consumed by them. It was for the best. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t built for love or affection. No, everything around him was death and destruction and he’d be damned if he was going to inflict that on you too.

As he sat watching the football highlights his eyes caught a glimmer of something beneath the coffee table. Leaning down he plucked up the small piece of jewellery in his hands and inspected it. He recognised this ring, it belonged to you. Just put it back. Fuckin’ throw it out. It’s junk jewellery. Even with his cruel inner monologue trying to warn him off Simon still rang your number. It rang and rang and rang. For a moment he thought that maybe you weren’t going to answer.

“H-hold on-” Your voice came down the line. There was mixture of music and voice down the speakers that told Simon you were out at the moment. Of course, you were… “Hello?” You asked as you finally got to place that gave you a little bit of peace. “I have something that belongs to you…”

There was a beat of silence before you muttered back. “You sound like a supervillain.” You should have been angry with him, but there was humour that laced your voice. “Do you have my dog or something?” Simon begrudged himself as he laughed lowly before responding. “Bloody hell, you really must think I’m a monster if you think I’ve kidnapped your dog…” It was just so easy to have this banter with you, like no time had passed at all, or there hadn’t been any hurt between you.

“Well, I’ll be a little concerned because I don’t actually have a dog…” You responded with a small laugh and he groaned as he covered his face with his hand. “Why would you be worried that I’d kidnap your dog if you don’t have one?” Trying to figure out your brain was like trying to solve a very intricate puzzle, but the moment your laughter lilted down the line Simon found himself smiling. He’d missed it. He’d missed you. “It’s actually a ring I found… it doesn’t seem my style so it must belong to you.” He mentioned observing the small band in his fingers.

For a moment you were quiet before stating. “It might belong to one of the other girls you’ve brought back to your flat…” There was jealousy linger there, along with hurt that hurt his heart. “I don’t bring other girls back to my flat.” Only you, he wanted to add but the words never formed in his mouth. “Do you think… can I bring it to you?” He questioned with a crease forming in his brow. There was a part of you that had wanted to deny him, but… another part… a more needy and affection part spoke first and louder. “I’m at a party… but sure. I’ll send you the address.” He could hear the way that you attempted to be nonchalant but there was there affection there.

It didn’t take long for Simon to leave once she sent him the address and honestly it wasn’t hard to find the house as he drove down the road. Each other house was quiet, curtains closed and dead to the world, but the one he pulled up outside of was lively, music pumping from inside and people filtering in and out. By the brick fence his eyes spotted you, lingered there looking at your phone as if you were trying to keep yourself busy, or at least look as if you were for when he arrived.

Climbing from his car he approached and you glanced up. “That didn’t take long…” You noted and then looked him up and down. “So, do you have my ring, or…” “Bollocks. I left it in the car…” He cursed softly. “Do you wanna come get it?” He asked and you eyed him suspiciously before wandering over and climbing into the passenger seat. Just like you imagined his car was just as organised as his house, there wasn’t an item out of place and it smelt like fresh pine. He climbed into the driver’s seat beside you and collected the ring from the centre console and placed it into your open hand.

“Thanks…” You hummed quietly twirling it around your fingers before sliding it on, the whole time keeping your eyes trained on it. “I think I owe you an apology…” Simon began and you looked at him. “Don’t be silly. We were just having fun, right?” He saw the way your smile pulled into a fake smile, trying to act easy-going but he saw through it right away. “Listen, I still don’t think I have a good answer for your question… what were we doing? Fuck knows, all I knew was that… that you…” He looked direction at you, intense eyes setting you completely still. “You have pushed me and challenged me and fucking terrified me more than anyone has for…” He really had to think. “Forever.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you.” He mentioned rubbing his face softly. “Is that a bad thing?” You asked then a look of concern set on your face. “No… No, it isn’t… I’m just… trying to figure out how to deal with all this.” He frowned. “This isn’t easy for me and I know that me being like this doesn’t make it easy for you either…”

A frown set on your face, twirling your ring again slowly before looking at him. “I told you from the beginning at your pace…” Then looking at him. “I just wanted something… just a little something to try and tell me I was on the right path… or that I hadn’t ruined everything…” Reaching across Simon took your hand, squeezing it so gently. “You didn’t ruin anything.” Then bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles sweetly. “I wanna take you out again… if you’ll let me…”

There was a beat of silence between you both then and Simon wondered for a moment if maybe you’d decline. “Okay…” You said, softly and sweetly before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Okay.” He responded with a small smile finding his lips. “I won’t fuck this up.” “You won’t.” You agreed softly as he brought your hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Masterlist | Ask | 03-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #ghost #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

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zoeydripdoria · 9 months ago

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More than just roommates

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY !!

Jean...

Your heart starts racing as you reread his application over and over again. You're torn between your desire to spend time with him and the fear that things could get awkward if things don't work out between you. But then again, what's the worst that could happen? You two could become friends, right? It's not like you're planning on falling in love or anything like that.

*ARTWORK BELONGS TO ME*

You never thought your life would turn out this way. One minute, you're minding your own business, cleaning up your room after a long day of classes, and the next, you're thrown into this whirlwind of emotions when you hear a knock on your door. It's the landlord, informing you that your roommate has moved out and that you need a new one since you don't make enough money on your own. You can't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and relief. Annoyance because now you'll have to deal with the extra rent and chores, but relief because you were never really fond of your roommate anyway.

As you're going through the list of potential candidates, one particular name catches your eye:

Jean.

It rings a bell, but you can't quite place it. You look through their photo, and suddenly, it all comes rushing back. He's the boy from your high school, the one with the light ash-brown hair that always looked perfect no matter what the style, the deep-set eyes that could stare right through you, and the smile that could light up a room. The same Jean who sat next to you in homeroom every day for four years, the same Jean who you had a crush on since the first day of freshman year.

You decide to take a deep breath and send him a text, telling him you'd like to meet up and discuss the possibility of him moving in. He responds almost instantly, saying he's free later today. Your mind races with anticipation as the hours slowly tick by.

Finally, it's time to meet up. You're standing outside the coffee shop, trying to calm your nerves, when you see him walking towards you. He looks just as good as you remember - if not better. He smiles warmly when he sees you, and it takes all of your self-control not to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk.

"Hey, you must be y/n ," he says, offering you his hand. You take it, feeling a spark of electricity run up your arm. "It's nice to finally see you in person." His voice is smooth and rich, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yeah, likewise," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You decide to get right to the point. "So, about moving in..."

He nods, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, absolutely. I'd love to live here with you, Y/n. It'll be great to have someone nice to come home to after a long day." His smile grows wider, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

You take a sip of your coffee, trying to calm your nerves. "Great. Well, we should probably go over some details then. Like, how much do you make per month?"

"Oh, about the same as you, I think. Maybe a little more," he says easily. "But don't worry about that. I'm more than happy to pitch in for my share of the rent and expenses."

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. At least that part won't be a problem. "Great. Okay, well, here's my number. Let's keep in touch and sort out all the details once we're back home." You hand him a slip of paper with your phone number on it.

He takes it, studying it for a moment before looking up at you again. There's a sparkle in his eye that you haven't seen before. "Yeah, definitely. And listen, Y/n..." He hesitates, biting his bottom lip. "I just want to say that I'm really glad this worked out.

You feel your cheeks flush again, unable to look away from those deep-set eyes. "Me too, Jean. It's going to be great living here with you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he seems to hear it just fine.

He smiles, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. "I can't wait to get started. We're going to have so much fun together."

His words make your heart flutter, and you can't help but wonder where this newfound attraction is coming from. It's been years since you've seen him, and yet the way he looks at you, the way he touches you...it's like you're the only person in the world. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you're suddenly aware of the fact that you're standing close enough to him that you can feel his breath on your skin.

The rest of the conversation passes in a blur. You discuss the logistics of moving in together, agreeing on who will take care of which bills and chores. But it's the moments when you look into his eyes that seem to stretch on forever, when his touch sends shivers down your spine, that you realize this is so much more than just two roommates.

Finally, you say your goodbyes and head back home, feeling a strange mixture of anticipation and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The entire way there, you can't help but think about how things will change once he moves in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do, or if this is all just some weird coincidence.

When you finally open the door to your apartment, you're greeted by the familiar scent of your favorite candle and the sight of your cat, Milo, curled up on the couch. The reality of the situation begins to sink in, and you're left with a sense of both excitement and trepidation. But as you climb into bed that night, the memory of Jean's touch lingers on your skin, and you can't help but wonder what the future holds for the two of you.

Months later

As the months go by, the tension between you only seems to grow stronger. You find yourselves constantly seeking each other out, whether it's through lingering glances across the room or casual touches that seem to happen by accident. The air around you feels charged with an electricity that you can practically taste, and it's becoming harder and harder to ignore the attraction that you feel for one another.

One night, while you're both sitting on the couch, watching TV, you feel Jean’s hand brush against yours. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, and you can't help but squeeze his fingers gently in response. He looks over at you, your eyes meeting, and for a moment, you're lost in the depths of his gaze. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and you want nothing more than to close the distance between you. Slowly, carefully, you reach out and trace your fingers along the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows heavily, and you can see the desire written all over his face.

His eyes flutter closed at the touch, and he leans into you, letting out a soft moan. The moment feels eternal, suspended in time. You can feel the desire building inside of you, the need to feel his skin against yours. You lean in closer, your lips mere inches from his, then he lets out a shaky breath and stands up, stepping away from you. The sudden movement breaks the spell that had been cast between you, and you're left feeling a mixture of confusion and longing. He apologizes, saying that he's not sure if this is a good idea, but you can tell that he wants it just as much as you do.

The rest of the evening is awkward and strained, with both of you seemingly at a loss for what to do or say. You try to convince yourself that it's better this way, that you shouldn't rush into anything, but the ache in your chest tells you otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same way if he's as confused and torn as you are.

As you both head off to bed, you can't help but feel a sense of loss, as if something precious has been taken away from you. You crawl into bed, tossing and turning restlessly, the memory of his touch burning itself into your skin. You close your eyes, trying to will yourself to sleep, but all you can think about is the way he looked at you, the way he felt against you. It's becoming clear that there's no going back now, no undoing what's been done between you. The question now is, what will happen next?

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, and for a moment, you forget about everything that's been going on. You stretch luxuriously, enjoying the warmth of the sun streaming through the curtains. As you sit up, you spot a note propped up against your alarm clock. It's from Jean, apologizing for the way he acted last night, admitting that he's just as confused and torn as you are. He says he needs some time to sort things out, but that he doesn't want to lose you.

The words bring a mix of relief and anxiety. You're glad that he feels the same way you do, but you can't help but worry about what this means for your relationship. Do you give him the space he needs, or do you push for more? You decide to give him some time, but you also make it clear that you're here for him whenever he's ready to talk.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself constantly seeking out excuses to be near him. The tension between you is palpable, and every time you catch his eye, you're transported back to that night on the couch. You can feel the attraction growing stronger with each passing moment, and it's becoming harder and harder to ignore.

One afternoon, while you're both in the kitchen, you lean against the counter opposite him, feeling the warmth of his body just a few inches away. He looks up from what he's doing and meets your gaze, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The air is thick with desire, and it feels as if the room could explode from the tension. Finally, he sets down what he's holding and slowly walks over to you. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you close, and for the first time, you let yourself fully surrender to the feelings that have been building up inside of you.

His lips find yours in a desperate, hungry kiss, and you respond with equal passion. You feel the heat of his body against yours, and as he presses you against the counter, you realize that you want this just as much as he does. He slips a hand beneath your shirt, trailing his fingers over your bare skin, and you arch into the touch, moaning softly. The taste of him fills your mouth as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel your heart racing in your chest.

When he finally pulls away, you're gasping for air, your head spinning. He looks at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispers, and you can hear the raw emotion in his voice. "I don't want to fuck this up!" You reach up, tracing your fingers along his jawline, feeling the stubble there.

"I don't want to lose you either," you admit, your voice barely audible.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, and you can feel the tension between you begin to ease. As he pulls away, he looks into your eyes, and you see a resolve there that you haven't seen before.

"Then let's not," he says simply, and you know in that moment that you're in this together. You reach up, threading your fingers through his hair, and pull him down for another kiss, longer and deeper than the last.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you and the heat of the moment. You feel the roughness of his skin against your fingertips, the strength in his arms as he holds you close. You know that there will be obstacles ahead, but for now, you're content to lose yourself in the feeling of being loved by him.

He kisses a trail down your neck, and you arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. He groans softly into your ear, and you feel the hard length of his arousal against your thigh. You want him inside of you, but for now, you revel in the feeling of his lips and hands exploring every inch of your skin.

As he works at unbuttoning your shirt, you reach down and help him unfasten his pants. You're eager to feel him against you, but when he steps back, you're momentarily disappointed. He looks at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness, and you realize that he's waiting for you to make the first move.

With shaking hands, you unbutton his shirt, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. He's muscular and tan from hours spent working in the sun, and you can't help but marvel at the beauty of his body. You reach out, tracing your finger over the defined ridges of his abs, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

His hands find their way back to your hips, and he urges you closer, guiding your lips to his. The kiss deepens, and you can feel the passion building between you once again. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you, and he groans into the kiss as their bodies finally connect.

He's hard and hot against you, and you welcome the feeling of him filling you up. He moves with a slow, steady rhythm, their hips meeting in perfect synchrony. The room spins around you, but you don't care. All that matters is this moment, this connection between you.

As you come together, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, you realize that this isn't just about the sex. It's about so much more. It's about finding someone who understands you, who sees the real you and who loves you anyway. It's about trust connection and intimacy.

He looks into your eyes, and you see a mix of tenderness and desire that takes your breath away. He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts deeper. You arch your back, meeting his movements with equal fervor, the sensations building inside of you, making it harder and harder to focus on anything but the feeling of him inside of you.

His skin is hot and smooth against yours, and you can feel every ridge and muscle in his body as he moves. He groans deep in his chest, and you moan in response, your body moving in time with his. You feel the familiar tension building within you, and with a sudden surge, your body shudders in release. He follows seconds later, his eyes closing tightly as he throws his head back, his breath ragged and uneven.

As the intensity of the moment begins to fade, he collapses onto you, their sweaty bodies sticking together. You can feel his heart racing against your chest, and you know that this wasn't just sex for him either. It was something more. He rolls to the side, pulling you into his embrace, and you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he whispers, "I love you." And for the first time, you know you mean it too.

You lie there together, catching your breath and savoring the closeness.

#aot #aot jean #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtien #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #first post #female reader #fem reader #x reader #smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #I'm Soo sorry

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sunboki · 2 years ago

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when with you — h. jisung

Han Jisung x gn! reader

◌ word count — 0.65k

◌ genre — angst, exes to lovers..?

If we tried things again would it be the same? Is what Han typed into his phone.

A short break in the mixture of emotion panning every surface of him, of the man who wished he could run right back to you. This note was one of the many, a recollection of how you made him feel even after he shouldn’t feel.

Like one day he’d stand at your doorstep and confess to everything he’d written, no, typed in his phone.

As if.

Instead, Han Jisung sat curled up in bed, drinking in the rumble of Incheon’s daily radio station with music that repeated on loop. He didn’t mind, it’s not like he listened anyway.

Except at the end of all pretty things, it was you standing at your exes doorstep for a reason he was certain he’d never know or one he didn’t want to know.

A series of soft knocks echoed around the empty apartment and through mumbled insults he began storing up, the boy eventually clambered to the doorway.

“Changbin I can’t go to the gym with you I already told you- Oh.”

You’re crying. That’s what he noticed first. The red patches burning beneath your eyes, the sniffing, teardrops lingering around your waterline. Instinctively he shuffled to the side, a silent beckon to come inside.

To say it was difficult walking into the apartment didn’t quite sum up the feeling. That familiar smell, the furniture still right where it had always been. Walking into your exes apartment felt like a return to what used to be. Then again, the fleeting wonder of what it would be like to return to your relationship briefly piqued your mind regardless.

Your legs are pulled up to your chest, resorting to taking a seat on the far corner of the couch. It’s nice this way with the nostalgic concept of being at home. Whether home be Jisung or his apartment you didn’t know.

Han’s quiet as he shuffles around the kitchen, apparently deciding not to bother with questioning your appearance here. You’re grateful.

He hands you a mug of tea, shaky breath escaping his hoodie clad form you choose not to acknowledge when he takes a seat beside you, scared of disrupting this comfortable environment. You sneak a glance, pretending to pay attention to the show playing on the tv.

It’s hard. Being with Jisung is hard after your history. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

In this moment though, despite the anguish and obvious hurt sitting between you two, you don’t want to leave. Perhaps it’s toxic, but leaving him for a second time would crack you in half.

A whisper when you spoke,

“Can I stay the night?”

“..You know that’s dangerous.”

He doesn’t look at you upon replying, like he’s scared. You know him. You’ve known him, except tonight’s visit introduces you to him again.

“I do.”

Your smile is sheepish and he can sense his composure wilting without having to see your face. The brunette sighs, gesturing hurriedly towards your form while running a hand through tousled locks.

You’re already reaching to the hallway’s closet in search of pillows and blankets, something that really shouldn’t be diminishing your ex to tears but it does. Familiar. Everything is still so familiar like you never left in the first place.

“Goodnight Jisung.”

Unfamiliar. His first sign of this newness. Jisung. Not “Ji” or “Sungie”, but Jisung.

Tonight, he meets you again too.

“Goodnight Yn.”

The lights overheard flicker off, and you dream of the prospect of waking up beside him. Abandoning this reality to melt into the fond old memories. Wishing he wasn’t an old memory. You’ll stir awake and he’ll say good morning and kiss you with treasured sweetness and things will be normal.

With Jisung as your home, perhaps you can sleep peacefully even if you wake up alone. Even if it’s just for the night.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #straykids x reader #skz han #skz han jisung #stray kids han #straykids han #han jisung x reader #han jisung angst #han jisung fluff #han jisung #han jisung x you #jisung han #han x y/n #han x you #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #skz comfort

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silver-hwaberry · 1 year ago

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SIXTEEN: baking and comfort

Warnings: swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, slightly rough sex, protected sex Word Count: 8.1k (taglist is now at the bottom) Summary: While the others are away visiting their families, Luna is feeling their absence deeply. Mingi is there to distract her from missing them, until she finally reunites with her parents and sisters. The reunion is a mixture of emotions, and when Luna comes home afterwards, there is a special surprise waiting for her.

Mingi's voice echoes down the hallway, "What is that scent? It smells delicious!" I hear him say. I place the tray on the counter top and close the oven door as he walks into the kitchen.

"It's scones," I reply, taking off my oven mitt and placing it neatly beside me. "I've made them mostly for my sisters but I've made extra for here too in case any of you want one."

"You made cupcakes and an apple pie yesterday, plus a chicken dinner! This morning was pancakes at breakfast, and now you're making scones? You are making sure we are very well fed!" He grins at me.

The previous morning, I had been struck with a sudden burst of baking inspiration, so I made my way to the grocery store. There, I decided to make myself a roast chicken dinner, complete with a side of buttery mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables - the ultimate comfort meal that my mom would make for me whenever I was feeling down. Although I wasn't particularly low yesterday, I was missing Yunho, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Wooyoung and San; this gave me all the more reason to make this comforting meal.

The guys had all been in contest contact with me through texts. San would call me every night to tell me about his day, what he did with his family, things he did with his cat Byeol. They all also sent me lots of photos and messages throughout the day. Despite how nice it was still being able to talk with them, there's no denying that I missed their physical presence around me.

I felt a small pang of guilt for missing them when I was enjoying the company of Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho so much. We were all having a blast. Yesterday morning, Jongho tried to teach me how to break open an apple with just my hands. After using up an entire bag of apples, I finally managed to split off a tiny piece from the last apple and he cheered like I had accomplished something grand. Surprisingly, I did feel somewhat proud of myself. All of the apples used during the apple breaking process were not wasted at all as I made an apple pie with them!

In the afternoon, Mingi was working on a new song, letting me sit in his bedroom with him as he composed it. I simply watched him with a smile on my face until he asked me to sit on his lap and showed me how to put together a track.

Watching Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho eating the roast chicken dinner so enthusiastically and genuinely enjoying it brought so much joy to my heart and a bubble of excitement in my stomach too. Afterwards we had another movie night and it was nice having time with the 3 of them.

“I just like cooking for you all!” I laugh. “I can stop if you wish me to.”

“Hey! I am not complaining. I love your cooking, princess!” Mingi says, leaning down to kiss me. “I just need to add extra reps during my workouts now every time you cook for us as your portions are massive!” He laughs.

"My apologies, that's from my grandma! She believes in cooking huge portions of food, and it's something that I've inherited from her." I giggle, "You know my opinion regarding you all dieting and all that stuff but I can serve smaller portions if you'd like?"

“Don’t! Not for me anyway!” He kisses me again. “And yes, very aware of your opinions on diets given your long rant last night when Yeosang simply said steamed vegetables are healthier than roasted!” He laughs wickedly.

I cringe and groan as I remember it. Poor Yeosang made an innocent comment, and I launched into how roasted vegetables are tastier and, if cooked correctly (with less oil!) can be just as healthy as steamed. When I finally stopped, his eyes were wide, and he looked so stunned.

“I am so sorry for that! I have a tendency to get rather opinionated with food! Again, that’s my grandma’s influence!” I reply, covering my face as his body moves around to stand behind me.

“I like you aren’t afraid to say how you feel or what you think. It’s very refreshing when we are surrounded by people who tell us what they think we want to hear,” he says, wrapping his arms around me as I move the scones to the cooling rack. “So never ever apologise for it and keep being yourself too!” I feel his face bury into my neck.

I know my opinions can annoy people and the fact I am outspoken too can be off-putting to a lot of people but Mingis words make me feel warm inside.

We move into the lounge and settle down on the sofa, with Mingi cuddling in close to me. I can't help but smile as I realise how comfortable he is with being around me. It's something I never even expected from him when we first met. His tall stature and dark eyes were a bit intimidating on our first meeting.

“Did your family arrive safely last night?” he asks

“Yeah, they did." I answer

"How was their flight from London?"

"Long! My mom text when they arrived at their rental apartment. She said the twins were already asleep while my dad was snoring on the sofa.” I chuckle and place my arms over the top of his. “The girls messaged this morning telling me all about the view from their apartment.”

“Is their apartment far from here?” He asks

“It is actually just 2 blocks away! Soojin said they can see Han River from the lounge window, so I think their apartment faces the same direction ours does.” I smile. “I can’t wait to see them later on. They'll be so big from the last time I saw them 8 months ago!”

Mingi pulls me closer to his chest. "I am sure you are going to have so much fun with them. Maybe one day you and I should take them out. Show them the fun places in Seoul." he says

"I was planning to take them to Lotte World. We should take them there. If you don't mind crazy hyper twins that is!" I smile at him wanting to do something with them.

"I've lived with San and Wooyoung for years, even during trainee period, I am sure Soojin and Hyejin will be a breeze compared to them!" he laughs, his voice has a hint of excitement.

As we cuddle together on the couch, I can’t help but think of the others and how much I miss them. A dull ache hits my chest at how much, more than I had ever expected to. A pang of guilt then follows for thinking of them while still being in Mingi’s embrace.

“Are you alright?” He asks me, his lips resting on the crown of my head.

"I'm fine," I reply, nodding slightly.

"You seemed to zone out a bit there for a moment," he remarks softly. "You were pretty quiet last night after dinner too."

"We were watching a movie with Yeosang and Jongho; it wouldn't have made much sense to talk," I joke in response.

"I know that," he replies with a chuckle, "but something seemed to be bothering you—you went upstairs right after to play with your friends on Sans' computer and then I saw you asleep in his bed in the middle of the night." His tone softens.

He is correct. I ended up sleeping in Sans bed last night when our game was finished. As I had sat in the silence of Sans bedroom once I had turned off the PC, I began to miss him. I only intended to lie on his bed for a few minutes, to soak in his scent before I went back to my room but the comfort of his belongings surrounding me made me feel a bit more emotional.

In an attempt to hold back the tears that wanted to escape I closed my eyes as tight as I could and hugged his pillow. The next thing I knew my phone alarm was going off on Sans desk and it was the next morning. I didn't realise Mingi had seen me in there but it explains the blanket over me that hadn't been there before when I woke up this morning.

"I wasn't snooping, I just saw the light on while I was going to the toilet and went in to turn it off and saw you asleep." he swiftly clarifies.

"I am missing the others." I admit, there is no point in trying to hide it. Mingi can easily pick up on peoples emotions.

"I thought as much." he sighs softly. "Come here." He pulls me onto his lap; I lay my head into his chest and try to control the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Sorry." I whisper, shedding a few that manage to break free. "I shouldn't be missing them when I have this time with you, Yeosang and Jongho!"

"Don't be sorry." He whispers back, tightening his grip around me; it feels like he will never let me go. "It's perfectly normal to miss them." His thumb brushes away the tears from my cheeks. "I know they are missing you as well." This causes me to lift my head from his chest and look up at him, meeting his eye to see if he is being truthful with me.

"Really?" I ask, surprised

"Of course they are!" The way he looks at me, so sweetly makes my heart flutter and warmth spreads through my body as he brings his lips down on mine.

The kiss starts off softly, his lips moving against mine with tenderness as his hands caress my back. I can't help but melt into him as the kiss turns heated and we stay locked in it for what feels like an eternity. He eventually pulls away, leaving us both breathless.

"I'm glad you are here with me." I whispers against his lips before kissing him once more.

Mingi deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip my waist. I sigh into his mouth, heat pooling low in my belly.

We break apart, breathless. Mingi's eyes have darkened with desire and I feel an answering ache between my legs.

"Yeosang just went downstairs to the gym and Jongho's with his family today," I say softly, my lips brush against his. "I have 2 hours before I need to leave and the apartment's empty. Should we continue this somewhere more private?"

Mingi's lips curve in a slow, sensual smile. "Private? If we have the entire apartment to ourselves why not do it right here?"

I joke, my voice light and teasing, "We could do that, but wouldn't it be more comfortable in my bed?" I flash a mischievous grin and slide my hand down his body, feeling the hardness of his arousal. "You can be as rough as you want with me in there too." I squeeze him through his shorts.

"You make a good argument," he replies with a groan, embracing me as he stands up. I giggle with excitement, looping my arms around his neck, my legs hooking around his waist. As soon as we get into my room, he slams the door shut behind us with his foot. "One day we are going to fuck on that sofa!" He laughs.

"100%!" I reply in agreement.

He lowers me onto the bed and joins me, pinning me underneath him with his body. We kiss passionately while I run my fingers through his hair, over his broad shoulders and down his back. Mingi sits back on his heels and strips off his shirt in one smooth motion, revealing the definition of his torso. I can't help but let out a soft moan at the sight of him, and I feel an overwhelming wave of desire consume me.

He looks at me with a smug smirk and asks, "Do you like what you see, princess?"

"Of course!" I laugh back.

He helps me out of my clothes and his own with eager and quick hands until we are both naked. Mingi lowers himself back down onto me, his lips travelling hungrily over my body. He kisses me passionately, his hands caressing every inch of my body until I am writhing beneath him. His mouth moves lower, kissing and gently sucking on my skin. His tongue pays particular attention to my nipples before moving lower still. I can feel his hot breath on my core, my legs shake in anticipation of his next move.

"Mingi..." I moan, my voice trembling as I look down at him.

"Does my princess want me to eat her out?" he says, his voice low and seductive as his eyes darken with desire. Unable to find words, I simply nod in response. He places one of his hands over my lower abdomen, gently pressing down to keep me still as his other hand cups my wetness. His lips move up my inner thighs, lightly brushing against them with every kiss until they finally reach my core. His fingers slip inside me as his tongue circles my clit, sending shock waves of pleasure through my body. His mouth moves with precision, alternating between teasing licks and hard sucks as the sensations threaten to overwhelm me. With a final gasp of pleasure, I collapse onto the mattress.

He finally stops and looks up at me, grinning, as I come hard against his mouth and fingers. He pulls away slowly, licking his lips before giving me a lingering kiss that leaves me breathless. I look into his eyes and see a satisfied look that only comes from knowing he pleased me to the fullest.

Mingi picks up a condom from my bedside table and slips it on, then moves over me with his forearms serving as support. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him towards me as he enters me. We both moan in pleasure at the feeling of being together. His forehead pressed firmly against mine.

"Ahh! You feel amazing!" he grunts out between breaths. "You're so perfect for me."

He moves in a steady rhythm, angle his hips to precisely target that secret spot inside me that he knows so well from our night together. Each thrust inside of me sparks a thrill up my spine, intensifying until I can hardly bear it. I cling onto his back, panting out his name as his thrusts become faster and more intense, his breathing heavy as he nears his climax. I can feel him trembling above me, the tension in his body building until it is almost unbearable. I wrap my arms around him, clinging onto him as we both soar towards our peaks. One of his hands moves to my hips, his fingers dig into me as he firmly holds my body down onto the mattress.

The heat within me suddenly breaking apart in a wave of blissful release as I cry out loudly, my nails digging into his skin. Riding the wave of my release, Mingi continues his brutal pace, growing frantic as he buries his face into the crook of my neck and cries out with a deep guttural rumble. The intensity of his orgasm causes him to shake violently.

We lie there, completely exhausted and still entwined together, saying nothing but communicating though our eye contact in the comfortable silence that envelops us. A satisfied smile crosses my face while I bask in the post-orgasmic joy and Mingi's presence, his hand softly caressing my cheek. Sweet kisses and smiles being exchanged as we come down from our highs.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I walk into the lounge from my bedroom and see Yeosang sitting on the sofa causing my heart to flutter. After Mingi and I had our fun earlier, we went for a shower. As I was getting ready to the lunch he left to go to gym. Yeosang must have came back earlier and is now playing a game on the ps5 but puts it on pause when he sees me come in. He places the controller on the coffee table as I walk over to him.

"You look beautiful!" he smiles at me as he stands up, his hand reaches out for mine and he laces our fingers together. He places a soft kiss against my lips and another on my forehead.

I chose to wear a knee length, beige dress for lunch with my family and threw on an oversized white cardigan as well. My hair is in loose curls and I have braided my long bangs, securing them with a clip against the side of my head so they are out of my face. To complete the look, I kept my makeup simple.

"Thank you." I say lowering my head as I can feel the blush flush over my cheeks.

His fingers tilt my chin up to look at him. "I love when you wear your glasses." I chose to forego my contact lenses and stick with my eye glasses. It isn't something I normally do when I go out. The only time I wear my glasses outside is when I go for my morning run or at the store. "I love the way your glasses look on you! They bring out your eyes and make you look even more beautiful." I feel myself blush even more. I'm not quite sure how to respond to it.

"Come here, angel." he pulls me into his arms. I instantly feel the warmth of his body and melt into him. “Mingi and I are going for a meal with Myeonjin then to see a movie so we won't be here when you get home."

"That sounds like fun!" I say, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I inhale his scent, he is fresh out the shower and smells like a mixture of coconuts and vanilla.

"Jongho should be home by 10pm. Do you think you will be okay here by yourself for a while?" His hands rubbing soft circles on my back

"Please, I lived alone in a tiny studio apartment for two years! A few hours by myself won't faze me!" I smile at his concern. He leans down, our lips meeting in a gentle sweet kiss. His lips are soft and warm, caressing mine with each movement. His hands cup my face as he deepens the kiss, exploring every corner of my mouth. I feel my body heat up with pleasure as his tongue slides against mine in a perfect dance that makes me forget what we were talking about.

When we finally break apart, I'm breathless and my heart is pounding in my chest. We stand there for a few moments, just looking into each other's eyes like nothing else matters in this world but us. "I better go now. My dad will send out a search party for me if I am even a second late! Be calling the army and demanding air support to find me." I finally say, chuckling lightly

"Is he overprotective?" he asks as he takes my hand and leads me to the door.

"Incredibly! I used to think my mom was unbearably protective of me but then my dad retired from active duty and moved to the training and admin side of the military, he became really overprotective. He was home a lot more, my mom was pregnant, having a hard time with it and then twins were born prematurely. He was protective over all 4 of us but more so me because I was becoming more independent." I say. Yeosang guides me to sit on the bench in the alcove at the door and helps me to put my shoes on, like he always does. "I started rebelling a bit around that age too, acting out."

"I can't imagine you being a rebellious teenager!" he chuckles "You look too innocent for that stuff!"

"Oh I was!" I laugh loudly "Don't underestimate my innocent face! Something happened at that age and I changed dramatically. I stayed out past my curfew, started hanging around with the wrong people, got into trouble, did things I shouldn't have been doing."

"Was it something bad?" he asks, looking into my eyes with concern

"At the time I thought it was, but after rebelling for a couple of months, I started to calm down and I realised it wasn't. It was a big thing but deep down, nothing really changed. However that is a story for another day." I smile lightly at him

"Your father loves you, and you are his first born daughter, it's only natural that he worries. I'll drive you to your parents apartment, make sure you get there safely." he offers

"It is only a 5 minute walk!" I say as he stands up holding out his hand for me to join him, his eyes looking into mine

"Then let me walk you there," he says softly, tenderly cupping my cheek. "I want to spend as much time with you before you have lunch with your family."

"Shouldn't you be accompanied by one of the managers?" I ask, scared about him getting into trouble because of me.

"I won't be gone long," he replies, grabbing a mask and hat from one of the cabinets beside the shoe rack. "Don't worry, angel."

He draws me into an embrace and kisses my forehead before his lips move slowly down to my cheek. He lingers there for a moment before they finally reach mine, holding onto my waist while we kiss. I'm entirely lost in this serene moment between us - all of life's woes seem so distant now.

Finally, he pulls away and gives me a twinkling smile. "Let's go," he murmurs, lightly brushing his lips against mine one last time before donning his mask and hat.

Yeosang and I step outside, the warm sun bathing our faces. He looks at me before taking my hand, and we stroll together down the sidewalk. It is a typical sunny August afternoon, not too hot, just a perfect temperature.

We walk in a happy silence as we cut through the park near our apartment. Suddenly, I tug him over to a plant and exclaim, "Look! A mugunghwa flower! Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is!" He nods with a muffled voice, veiled by his face covering. His eyes twinkle with joy and with his little eye creases I can see that he is smiling. He releases my hand to pluck one of the pink flowers from the branch. Then he carefully weaves its stem into my braid. "I'm sorry for taking a flower," he says, "but I thought it would look even more beautiful in your hair." His warm brown eyes glimmer in the sunlight. "Lets keep going before the search helicopter appears." he adds, I find myself laughing at his comment as he takes my hand again and we carry on walking.

We reach my parents apartment building I turn to face him. "I'll see you in the morning." he says his hands running up my arms

"Want me to make pancakes again? I'll put in an extra scoop of protein powder just for you." I smile

"I'd never turn down your amazing pancakes, even if they didn't have any protein powder in them!" he laughs. He pulls down his face mask enough to expose his lips before leaning in and kissing me tenderly.

"Yeo!!" I exclaim, "Someone could see us!"

"No one can see us from here." he smiles mischievously, replacing the mask over his mouth and nose.

"Still, that was a massive risk!" I say, "I don't want to get you into any trouble."

"You won't, so stop worrying about that!" We hear a car approach and stand back from one another. It was just as well we did as the car comes into view I see it is my uncles. Inside is my Aunt Soomin, Seojun and my other cousin Dongjae.

"That is my Uncle Jihoon." I say as he parks metres from us

"Oh." Yeosang says and I can see his eyes grow a bit wider as he looks over at the car and back at me. "I should go now that your family are here."

"Younhaaaa!" Seojun shouts jubilantly as he gets out of the car, his usual cheeky grin on his face.

"Jun, sshh!" I scold him as he reaches us

"Oh sorry, I didn't see you." he says to Yeosang who honestly looks like a deer caught in the headlights

"I was just making sure Luna got here safely." Yeosang replies, I can see how uneasy he is looking and I am fighting an internal battle not to reach out to him. Give him the reassurance he needs.

"That is very sweet of you." my Aunt Soomin smiles joining us

"Are you going to introduce us?" Jihoon asks me

"Sorry, this is Yeosang, Yeosang this is my Uncle Jihoon, Aunt Soomin, Seojun and Dongjae." I say quietly in case someone is nearby

"Wow, he's a lot shorter than I thought he'd be." Dongjae blurts out. "They look so tall on TV."

"Dongjae!" Soomin scolds, "I apologise for my youngest sons rudeness." she adds to Yeosang

"That boy doesn't have a filter!" Jihoon adds with a chuckle. "It is nice to meet you."

"That is ok. It was lovely to meet you all. I better go." He bows to them before quickly leaving and I watch as he disappears around the corner without a second glance and I feel bad for him being accosted by my family like this.

"He seems a lovely young man." Soomin comments as she hugs me "Are they all taking care of you?"

"They are." I nod

"Lets get upstairs before your dad sends out a search party for you." Jihoon laughs. Even he knows how my dad is and it makes me chuckle. He puts the code into the building entrance and holds the door open for us to enter.

When we reach the apartment door, I can already hear the twins inside making noise. My mom is trying to calm them down. I feel a burst of excitement at seeing them again, and especially my mom. Before we even knock on the door, it swings open and my mom throws her arms around me.

"Whoa Aunt Eunbi, how did you know we were here?" Seojun chuckles.

"I knew my baby was here." she says while squeezing me tight, "You've gotten taller!"

"Mom, I haven't grown in years!" I laugh.

"Maybe it's just that my big sister has gotten shorter since the last time she was here!" Jihoon jokes, tapping her head. "You do look like you have!"

"Oh stop it!" She lets go of me and embraces him. "Everyone looks short next to you!"

It's true: at 186cms, everyone else seems quite short - except for Seojun who is the same height, and Dongjae who is almost the same height with some more growing still to do.

"What's with this talk about short people?" my dad cheerfully inquires from behind us all. At 189cm, he's yet another tall person. Most people think that my father and Jihoon are brothers due to their respective heights - but it's really my mom who is related to him, being three years his senior. "Luna!" He adds as he enfolds me in a hug "I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too dad." I relax into his embrace.

After exchanging hugs with everyone, we move into the apartment and witness Soojin and Hyejin squabbling over an iPad on the floor.

"Girls, what have I told you about fighting like that over stuff when you each have one!" Mom lightly rebukes them.

"But mummy it's mine! Hyejin is trying to take it because her own is out of battery!" Soojin whines. Her British accent very prominent.

"Hyejin, this is your sister's device; if yours has run out of power then go charge it but don't take away your sister's without her permission," Dad steps in.

"You've always said to share though, Soojin isn't sharing!" she retorts, yanking it out of Soojin's hands. This causes Soojin to tug back at it and hit Hyejins hands to make her let go.

I stand by and laugh quietly at the scene unfolding before me. Hyejin starts screaming loudly at Soojin, even going so far as to grab at her long hair and pull on it. Quickly Dad snatches the iPad from their grasp.

"That's enough! Nobody gets the iPad now," he says firmly and they both groan in protest.

Dongjae quietly says in Korean, "Gosh, they're noisy!"

"You were the same when you were growing up with your brother!" Soomin chuckles to him

"Luna's here." my mom says

Instantly, their voices change from moaning to an excited shriek, as they finally notice me in the room and rush towards me. I kneel down to embrace them both as they throw themselves at me, toppling me onto my butt as I can only laugh and try to hold onto both of them. They have definitely gotten a lot bigger since I saw them last.

"Did you get my message this morning?" asks Soojin

"I did! And your photos too. They were really good!" I answer

"Who is ready for some food?" my dad asks cheerfully

"Me!" they both shout putting their hands up.

"I'm sure Luna is too!" Seojun says poking my stomach as I bat his hand away laughing. "Your sister is ALWAYS hungry!" he whispers dramatically to the twins

"Says the man who ordered 4 servings of pork belly at the karaoke a few weeks ago and ate it to himself!" I laugh. "Didn't even ask Dasom and I if we wanted any!"

"Oh what a gentleman I have raised!" Aunt Soomin says making us all laugh

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When we arrive at the restaurant, we are taken to our reserved table. It doesn't take long before Soojin and Hyejin start bickering over who gets to sit beside me, so I suggest sitting in between them, which calms them down. Seconds after I sit down, my mom instructs the waitress that I have a serious seafood allergy, demanding that nothing on the table contain anything fish-based.

I almost say that it will be okay, as it was my decision to come here precisely because I knew it was safe. However I understand that my mother has always done this and will continue to do so regardless of what I say so I keep my mouth shut.

With each dish that arrives at the table, my mother repeats to the staff and it gets harder to stay quiet. I want to say something multiple times, but my father's understanding gaze kept me quiet. He knows how much I hate this but also knows, like we all do, that there is no point in trying to stop her.

"What are your plans for your trip?" Soomin inquires.

"We'll be here for two weeks before heading down to Jeju Island for a couple of days, then a week in Tokyo, and another week back here," Dad replies

"We will have a sleepover with Luna too!" Hyejin cheers

"I don't think so, honey," Mom says softly

"But we always have a sleepover when we visit!!" Soojin adds in disappointment, her eyes growing big

"'I'm sorry sweetie," I say sadly. Since I moved in with the other guys, it isn't feasible this time around. We'd usually wear our pyjamas and watch movies while eating snacks all night long. “I don’t live alone anymore.”

“But we will be quiet and behaviour ourselves.” Hyejin says on the other side of me. “We promise, don’t we Soojin? We won’t fight!” I see Soojin nod frantically

“Why don’t you have a sleepover at our apartment instead?” My dad suggests, “Mommy and I can have a night out and the three of you can do your little movie and snack night.”

“That’s not as fun!”Soojin pouts

"We will arrange something for a night just the 3 of us ok." I say putting an arm around her. Her little pout doesn't completely leave but it does seem to appease her a little.

The rest of the lunch goes by on a happier tone. Afterwards Jihoon, Soomin, Seojun and Dongjae go their separate ways while we go back to my parents apartment. My mom telling me she has some things for me. As we enter the apartment Soojin and Hyejin take me to their bedrooms to show me some of their toys. We spend the next 30 minutes playing and having fun until my mom comes in to get me. This causes both of them to whine before my mom says Hyejins iPad is charged. Instantly they both stop and run to get their respective devices.

"Dinner tomorrow night, what would Seonghwa like to eat?" she asks me as we go into the lounge. My dad is sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the coffee table in front watching a football match on the TV. I notice there is a folded blanket underneath them, no doubt put there by mom so as not to scuff the table with his socks.

"Seonghwa will eat anything," I reply. "He's the least picky eater I've ever known. So whatever you feel like cooking will be fine."

"Do you think he'd be ok with a western meal? It's been so long since I attempted any Korean cuisine - I wouldn't want to do it now and end up messing it up! That would be mortifying!" She chuckles softly.

"I cook a lot of western style meals for the guys and they've never had any issues with them. Maybe make some ramen and rice as side dishes though. I have noticed they all, especially Seonghwa appreciate that!" I smile

"You cook for them?" My dad asks sounding surprised

"Well yeah." I shrug nonchalantly as I sit beside him. "They work long hours, can't really cook a proper meal by the time they get home. I am usually home hours before they are so it makes sense for me to do it. They never let me do the dishes though. Yunho and San usually tell me to go sit down."

I don't say a word that if I don't leave, Wooyoung will swoop in and carry me out of the kitchen. I secretly like when he does that, so I often stay put for that very purpose.

He beams widely, excitedly saying "I already like them! How is it going living with them?"

"I like it. It is nice being around people again and being able to look after people too."

"I am glad to hear that." he smiles. "I was a little worried at first when your mom told me you were living with them. I didn't like it."

"And Seonghwa?" I ask nervously

"Hmm, I wasn't too pleased about that at first!" he says lowering his eyebrows. I feel my stomach drop a little. "However, from what your mom said about him after she spoke to him that night and what I've seen in videos online, he does seem nice."

"He really is dad." I say smiling

"I'll still be giving him the dad experience but not the full one though." he laughs

"Just don't scare him away." I giggle "I really do like them... him!" Thankfully my mom comes back into the lounge with lots of bags and my dad doesn't pick up on my Freudian slip.

At the same time on the TV the opposite team has just scored a goal, much to his disappointment causing him to curse. My mom playfully rolls her eyes at him before coming over to us.

"I have your usual things from London - teabags, biscuits, your favourite chocolate bars!" she says excitedly.

"Ohhhh thank you mom" I say giving her a hug.

"And I got the guys some snacks too! I hope they'll enjoy them. I didn't know what they'd like so I got a bit of everything I could think of."

"She isn't even exaggerating! An entire suitcase purely for these snacks and your things! The excess fees at the airport was eye watering!" My dad chuckles at my mom's excitement before standing up and stretching. "I'll drive you home, it would take you 5 hours to get home with all these bags."

"You are probably right." I giggle. "Thanks dad!"

"I'll see you and Seonghwa tomorrow night." my mom smiles hugging me

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When I get to the entrance, I put down my belongings and key in the code. The door chirps and I open it with my foot as I grab the bags again. After taking off my shoes and pushing them to the designated area, a wave of familiarity washes over me as I take in the familiar scent of the apartment. A small smile comes to my face as I start to feel like this is my home now too.

I walk into the hallway, my eyes immediately gaze upon a bag lying at the bottom of the stairs. I furrow my brow, trying to remember if it was there when I left for lunch with my family.

Suddenly, my gaze shifts as I see a movement out ofthe corner of my eye, and I catch sight of Yunho sitting on the sofa. My heart skips a beat as I rush over to him, my bags dropping onto the floor. The bags full of snacks and goodies forgotten about the second I lay eyes on him.

“Yunho!” I exclaim, practically leaping into his arms.

He rises from the seat, grinning broadly as he wraps me in a strong hug. His body radiates with heat as I cling to him tightly. He stands rock-steady despite my body slamming into his. He holds me securely as my arms wrap around his neck. Without hesitation I press my lips against his, unable to hold back. He kisses me back.

As he sets me down, I step back keeping a hold on his hands in mine as I take a good look at him. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but to me, he looks like a vision. Too scared to blink in case he disappears and is not really here with me right now. I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, still in shock.

“I live here,” he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I playfully roll my eyes and laugh. “I know that. I thought you were coming home tomorrow!”

“I was always coming home today,” he replies. “I wanted to surprise you though, so I told you it was Thursday.”

A bubble of joy rises in me as I chuckle. “You definitely did a great job of surprising me.”

“I really, really missed you,” he says, his eyes softening.

“I missed you too,” I reply, my heart swelling with emotion. I lean in for another hug, burying my face in his chest. I can feel the tears of joy prickling at the corners of my eyes.

My tears flow freely as I try to stifle a weep, but he sees through my weak facade. “Hey, don’t cry,” he whispers gently. I can’t hide my emotions, and he knows it. With his arms tightly wrapped around my waist, he pulls me closer, sitting back on the sofa and I sit in his lap, feeling safe and secure.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to say through my sniffles. “I didn’t realise I would miss you this much.”

To my surprise, he admits, “Honestly, I felt the same way. I spent most of my time moping around the house. Even my mom noticed my sadness and asked if I was missing someone back home.” He smiles, “Don’t tell Hongjoong, but I told her about you.” He adds in a mischievous tone.

I pull away slightly to look at his face. “You did?” I ask in disbelief.

“Not everything about the others, but I told her that I have someone back home who makes me smile every day, makes me incredibly happy, looks after me, and cooks for me.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his hand gently. "And who I care for deeply."

Feeling nervous, I ask, “And what did she say?”

“She’s happy that I have someone, especially someone who takes care of me and makes sure I eat properly! I know we’re not supposed to tell anyone about our relationship with you, but my mom was pretty persistent!” He grins at me, his hands resting on my thighs. “She asked to see a photo of you, so I showed her. I hope that’s okay with you."

A wave of relief washes over me, and I laugh. “Of course, I don’t mind! As long as it was a good one!”

“All the photos I have of you are good ones!” He chuckles and kisses my cheek. “It was from when we went out at 1 a.m. for snacks and ended up walking down to the river.”

As he takes out his phone and scrolls through it, I remember that night. We had so much fun, and he took a lot of pictures. When he shows me the photo, I can’t help but smile.

The photo on his phone glimmered in the low light of the room, casting warm hues across our faces. I actually really love that photo of us so I am glad he showed his mom that one as he has many unflattering photos of me already in his camera roll! His smile is soft, but genuine as he places the side of his head against mine, both of us staring at the image on his screen.

“She says you are absolutely beautiful!” he whispers, his lips tickling my ear. A warmth spreads across my cheeks, and I hide my face in the crook of his neck for a moment before looking up again.

“You can’t even see my face properly!” I giggle, my fingers playing with the back of his hair.

“I showed her some other photos too. She likes you though,” he says planting a kiss on my cheek “She says you have warm eyes, that you look kind and caring.” He pulls back to meet my gaze, worry sharpening it. “Please don’t tell Hongjoong though. He will be angry at me.”

“I won’t tell him,” I promise softly.

He stares into my eyes as his hand touches my cheek and moves down to my chin. He gently pulls my face closer to his and kisses me. I feel more tears begin to gather in my closed eyes. I pull my body closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulder to hold onto him tighter.

“It is all okay,” he whispers as we cling to each other, foreheads pressed together. “4 days apart was too many. I don’t want us apart for that length of time ever again.” His voice trembles with emotion, and I know he means it. We just hold one another, lost in the embrace of each other’s arms.

As much as I wish that we would never have to be apart, I knew that it was inevitable. We would have to be separated when they go home during their rare breaks from schedules, but I was grateful that we had moments like these to cherish. However, the thought of not seeing them anymore when it all ends was too much to bear, and tears threatened to spill over again.“Come to my bedroom, I have a present or two for you,” he whispers

“Yunho, you did not need to buy me anything!” I gasp, playfully hitting his shoulder

“I know but I wanted to!” he chuckles shifting my body with complete ease, hooking one arm under my knees and his other arm around my lower back and stands up. I can't help but giggle as he carries me down the hallway, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

On his bed, I notice a large and fluffy Kuromi plush. “I figured you'd love her, considering the sheer amount of Kuromi things you own!" He places my feet back onto the floor and supports me as I regain my balance.

“Is it that obvious?” I laugh as he hands it to me and I cuddle into her.

"Just a little bit." he chuckles

"I love her, thank you!" I exclaim with delight

“I also got you this.” he lifts a small purple velvet bag from his desk and passes it to me. I place the Kuromi plush his bed and open the pouch to find an amethyst crystal inside. I hold it up to look at it as it is beautifully radiating in the light streaming through Yunho’s window. “The lady in the shop told me this was the best crystal for stress and anxiety. I don’t know if you believe in the healing properties of crystals. You don’t need to keep it if you don’t believe in it; I won’t be upset.”

"Yunho, I absolutely love it!" I look up at him and embrace him tightly. "Yes, I'm a believer of crystals. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!"

“It seems like something's been weighing on you," He murmurs as he holds me. "If you ever need somebody to talk to or just to be there in silence, I'm here for you.”

“Thank you, Yunho,” I whisper, feeling the warmth of his breath on my neck.

He pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. “I mean it,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity. “You don’t have to endure anything alone.”

It is one of the most difficult things I have had to do, conceal my bipolar disorder from him and everyone else. Despite the effort I put into covering up all the evidence, Yunho has still noticed my inner battles. The resentment in myself that comes with having to take my medication in secret and wear long-sleeved shirts or lots of bracelets at all times to hide the scars.

Asking Hongjoong to keep my secret from them, it weighed heavily on me, and every day was starting to become an endless battle against my anxiety. Scared one of them would find out and know I had lied but also scared to tell them as well.

All at once, the defences that I’ve set up around me start to shatter. Tears begin to well in my eyes as I gaze at him, exposed and defenceless.

“Yunho…” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just don't know how to tell you...”

“Shh..” he interrupts me quietly. “You don't have to explain anything right now. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here to hear you out.”

I nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. His lips capture mine once more and I feel myself begin to melt into him. His hands move around my back, pulling me close, as his other hand finds its way down my neckline tracing circles across my skin. I feel a familiar warmth radiating from his body, igniting all of my senses.

The kisses become more passionate, and our bodies begin to move together in sync, his hands explore further south toward my hips. The kiss intensifies as Yunho spins us around so that my back is against the wall and he is towering over me. He looks down at me with an intensity that I've never seen before; one that can only be described as pure longing and desire.

Yunho begins to move his lips down the side of my neck leaving tantalising trails everywhere he goes; finally finding their way to my collar bone where they pause for a moment before continuing their journey further south and making stops along the way while his large hands tenderly explore inside my cardigan.

His kisses stop at the neckline of my dress, he pulls his head back and stares down at me, chest heaving. His eyes dark with passion, but something is holding him back.

He speaks in a low, anxious tone. "Do you want to keep going? It's fine if you don't."

I look up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yunho.." I speak his name softly. "I want this."

No more words are needed; we know what will happen next. Without waiting any longer, we jump into something completely new and unknown together.

Taglist: @kiwibaekie @fudgeflyssworld @kodzukein @elk-1998 @khjcoo @pepperony-7 @ateez-babygirl @starillusion13 @stephy-nicole13 @truthbehindthereflection @livingdeadlisa @stayteezdreams @atinyapple1117

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sunny6677 · 4 months ago

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Elite Parents.

The Rewritten version of the Hatzgangs scene in Tender Treats for The Saturated AU. (2/2)

@mayisgoingnuts

————

As the three stand there on the road (not noticing Bob eagerly peeking out from behind them), Roy lifts up the candy. He asks out of curiosity, "Sooooo.. how much are we getting?"

Robert huffs. "Uh.. I dunno. Just.."

The three stop, hearing something behind them. They then softly yelp once they finally do notice something, and begin to seem visibly nervous upon seeing who it is. Or at least who they think it is anyway.

Bob grins. "Hello, kids—did ya see any kids in a skeleton and pumpkin costume come here by chance?"

"..uh.. yeah. Why?" Robert replies.

"Well, I was just wonderin' if—"

"Wait.. are you gonna follow them and hunt them down?"

"What? No! Why does—why does everyone think that tonight?"

"..what the hell do you mean? Everyone knows who you are, dude."

"Yeah.." Scoffs Ross. "Listen, those kids are kind of annoying, and I'm not sure if I mind the idea of them actually being gone.. but we're not telling you anything else. Come on.. lets go."

Bob's expression slowly grows more irritated, exhausted from being treated like this by everyone. He then forces a grin, pulling out a knife before they can completely turn around.

"Well.. why don't I just—"

It cuts suddenly. The bag of candy is spilt everywhere on the ground now as a furious Robert looks at it, and Bob walks off with a very irritated but satisfied look on his face. Roy looks on with a very surprised expression, while Ross just seems weirded out and annoyed by what just happened.

Robert growls. "Hey!"

Bob doesn't listen, and just keeps walking off.

It cuts to a very fucking pissed off Robert storming toward the sidewalk, balling up his fists and then stomping on the ground. "Fuck!"

Ross rolls his eyes, while Roy only looks on with worry.

"Ugh.. chill, Robert. She'll probably just forget. Your mom probably wont remember either.." Says Ross dismissively says.

"Easy for you to say!" Robert angrily says as a car begins to approach, "Your mom forgets about stuff all the time! My mom doesn't!"

They then stop, finally noticing the car. Roy's eyes appear to light up though.

The car window rolls down, revealing Richard. "Hello, Roy.."

Roy smiles from ear to ear. "Dad!"

Carmen then exits the car, looking around for a moment, before noticing Roy and exclaiming out in excitement. "Oh, son! Did you buy yourself a costume?"

Roy hesitates. "..uh.. yeah?" He fidgets with his hands. His friends don't say anything, but do glare at him a little.

"Well, it looks nice on you, son! Now, how about we get you home? We still have movie night, remember?"

"Huh..? Oh! Yeah! Hahah! Uh—sorry, guys! I'm gonna go watch Halloween stuff with my parents. You have fun though!"

Roy then begins to walk toward the back part of the car. Robert's glare becomes more apparent, but fades as he rolls his eyes. Ross's expression becomes somewhat bitter as he just scoffs.

She then sighs to herself at her sons endearing behavior, and waves to Ross and Robert. "See you two soon! Feel free to join us sometime else if you'd like!"

Ross grumbles to himself. "..psh.. whatever."

Robert doesn't say a word, furrowing his brows.

When Roy gets in the car, he seems to have a mild moment of surprise, and smiles.

"Oh—mom! Did you get the candy?"

"Mhm!" She nods.

It then cuts to the window opening, and from out the window comes a gigantic bag full of candy that lands on the ground. Robert stares in surprise, and as does Ross (though he seems a little more confused than anything).

"Here! I told my mom to get some incase tonight didn't go well. Uh—bye, guys!"

The car begins to drive off while Roy brightly smiles to himself. It ends on Robert's expression faltering from surprise to a mixture of emotions as he just looks down at the bag, and picks it up before waving reluctantly. Ross doesn't wave at all, just rolling his eyes.

#spooky month #the hatzgang #roy spooky month #ross spooky month #robert spooky month #carmen spooky month #richard spooky month #bob spooky month

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inkblot22 · 1 year ago

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Jamil Headcanons

Hmm. This would have been a lot longer if I had no self-control or the desperate need for sleep. Enjoy! (It also just dawned on me that it should be more sensible for me to be more scared of Jamil than of Rook, Floyd, or Jade, and I now think this is a very funny thought. Anyways-)

This one is sort of brutal, so TW for yandere, captivity, betrayal (?), physical abuse, emotional abuse, kidnapping, drugging, bone breaking, and a hint of Stockholm syndrome.

I like to think that when Jamil becomes lovesick for someone, that person already likes him. Between the two of them, you would think that you were the creepier one in this situation, since your little schoolkid crush on him has devolved into your every waking thought being consumed by him, his smug little smirk, the way his eyes change color in the light, the silkiness of his hair… it goes on and on and you can’t sleep without seeing him in your dreams.

While that sounds fine and dandy, it isn’t. You’re trying to keep it a secret because you’re pretty certain Jamil only wants to be friends, floating by on the thin hope that your feelings will fade with time, but Kalim’s narrow behind has caught onto the fact that you like his one-sided best friend and has made it a point to obliviously make your life a living hell.

It comes to a head when you’re hanging out at Scarabia one afternoon, Jamil comes in to serve the two of you tea- you because he considers you a friend and Kalim out of nothing but duty- and Kalim opens his big mouth and just blurts out your secret.

“Did you know that they like you?” If you could die on command, you would. You want the earth to swallow you whole, but because your nerves hate you just as much as the universe, you end up just sweating as though you entered a volcano and laughing awkwardly as Jamil sniffs and responds in the worst way possible.

They always say that the worst someone can say when you ask them out is no. They never say what the worst thing someone can say when you get ratted out for your borderline obsession for them. Jamil answered that question very easily.

“What? I knew they were a creep, but I didn’t know that I was their target.”

Yeah… So it only makes sense that you decide to give him space. A lot of space. He doesn’t see you for several weeks and he is not pleased by your decision to avoid him.

Where you believe he thinks you’re a raving, drooling stalker, he sees someone pathetic who admires him, as he should be admired. And losing that admiration is something he doesn’t handle very healthily.

In those weeks that you don’t see him, he’s snappy, more sardonic than usual, seeing his classmates and even some of those who he respects as writhing maggots wasting his time. All he wants to see is your shy smile as you compliment him for something minor.

A lifetime of receiving nothing but disdain or flat apathy for doing his best has caused something of a fever to engulf him when he loses the one person whose opinion he cares about.

So he devises a plan- it’s easy. You have a bad habit of compromising your comfort for other’s, so he asks Kalim to throw a party and invite you.

Predictably, you show up. He hands Kalim a drink and asks him oh-so-nicely to give it to you. Kalim’s so amicable, he does exactly as told, and you’re so…pathetic, so you drink it all without question.

You’re slumped against the wall in minutes. You rouse in his room, tied by your wrists and ankles, barefoot and jacketless with a pounding headache.

The room reeks of his skin- a mixture of fresh soil, star anise, and mellow molasses. You figure out where you are almost immediately.

And he enters. And your mind immediately goes to panic mode.

See, where he sees you and is pleased by your presence, you see him and believe that he brought you here to kill you.

It’s illogical. Completely bonkers. But after not seeing him for nearly a month and having your last interaction be so bad? It only makes sense that maybe he wants to hurt you.

Besides that, Jamil is a champ at holding grudges. That’s one of his many talents. He can hold a grudge as though it’s sewn to his skin.

So, unlucky you, for pissing him off by avoiding him. He sort of just talks down to you for a few hours, feeds you some really delicious saffron rice (which he will never tell you he slaved over,) and then unties you so you can go to the bathroom.

That last one struck you as strange, but it makes sense when you reenter his main room and his hand latches onto the back of your neck, dragging you towards his bed. He wrestles you down, ties your arms behind your back, then ties your legs- loosely at first.

He tightens the bonds after he gags you with both a rag and duct tape and stacks your legs, one knee over the other, before he turns to retrieve a few other items.

A railroad spike, the sharp end ground down, two scraps of cloth and some foam padding, and a mallet.

He smooths the fabric and padding down on your knee before lining the blunted spike up with your knee and giving it one strong stroke of the hammer.

You scream, the sound still loud beyond your gag, and Jamil’s lips quirk into a smirk as he tells you everything will be just fine. And then he strikes down with the hammer again.

See, he could have just hypnotized you for this. He could have decided that this was something he didn’t want you to remember, but you pissed him off.

How dare you not spend time with him! How dare you avoid him after he called you a creep! He deserves your attentions and affections, because despite you thinking he didn’t know and simply wanted your friendship, he knew. He knew and enjoyed the special attention you gave him. But you just had to get your feelings hurt when he called you what you were.

So he breaks your kneecap with one more strong, sure strike of the hammer and sews your leg closed as you sweat and drool and howl and cry under your gag, delirious from pain and unable to think clearly. Pain itself is a great painkiller. You don’t even feel the needle.

Jamil secures your leg, splinting your knee and making sure the wound is clean. He waits for you to calm down before he smiles sweetly at you and shows you his pointer finger as though you are a child.

“If you ever want to walk again, don’t try moving.”

So you don’t. Once your leg heals, you walk with a pretty severe limp, and some days it hurts so bad that you can’t move at all.

And Jamil is always there to support you… even when you piss him off.

He punishes you when you do. Punishments are not something that a caring boyfriend doles out, but Jamil is not really a "caring boyfriend" and will treat you like dirt in a heartbeat.

He’ll smack you around, and when that doesn’t work, he gets creative- sitting up all night with one of his coconut-scented candles in your grasp, disregarding your comfort when tending any injuries you have, hiding the broom after he asked you to clean so he can pretend to be even angrier when he gets back…

The list goes on, but his favorite warning is a well-placed gut-kick.

Jamil is harsh, and he’s not particularly kind. He knows you prefer being around him when he isn’t insulting you with every other word in that unimpressed voice of his, but he can’t help it.

You just look so cute when you cry.

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bigsoftmarshmallow · 4 months ago

Note

Hiytyyyyyeeeee

Rookwood has been busy, VERY busy, to the point where he doesn't realize that it's their anniversary until he comes home to his Love's setup and gifts.

(Pre Relationship) As a gift, Victor buys his Love the best broom he could buy once he found out they have been a little sad since their broom was stolen. It's only after the gift is given and his Love runs off to fly that Andria is able to tell him why the previous broom went 'missing'.

Andria comes home to a nice dinner after delivering potions to shops in the Hamlets.

.... >_>

************************************************************************

Victor Rookwood was not easily overwhelmed. In fact, he thrived on the pressure of his double life—the secrets, the deals, the endless responsibilities. Lately, though, he had been busier than ever, juggling his operations and managing the fallout from several plans that had gone awry. It had consumed him entirely, leaving little room for anything else.

So, when he arrived home that evening, shoulders heavy with the weight of his day, his mind was still spinning with thoughts of shipments, alliances, and keeping his network in line. He wasn’t prepared for what awaited him.

As he stepped through the door, his usual dark, cluttered home had been transformed. Soft candlelight flickered along the walls, casting a warm glow across the room. A faint, familiar scent of something sweet—perhaps his favorite dessert—lingered in the air. The table was set, adorned with flowers and a delicate spread of dishes he hadn’t seen in far too long.

And there, standing in the center of it all, was his love, smiling up at him, dressed in something special, something that made his chest tighten with a mixture of longing and guilt.

“Happy anniversary, Victor,” they said softly, their voice filled with warmth.

Anniversary.

The word hit him like a Bludger to the chest. His eyes widened, and his mind raced, trying to grasp the fact that today—right now—was their anniversary. How had he let it slip through his fingers? He was always so careful, so meticulous, and yet, somehow, in the madness of his life, he had completely forgotten.

His heart clenched with a mix of regret and panic. He had no gifts, no grand gestures, not even a single thought prepared for the day that should’ve been about celebrating them. And they had done all of this—for him.

“Darling, I... I...” For the first time in what felt like forever, Victor Rookwood was at a loss for words.

His love stepped toward him, closing the distance, their smile gentle and understanding. “It’s alright,” they said, reaching out to take his hand. “I know you’ve been busy. I wasn’t expecting anything... but I wanted to do something special for us.”

Victor’s eyes softened, guilt churning inside him. He didn’t deserve them—not after he had forgotten something so important, something that meant so much to them. His love had always been patient, always understanding of the demands his life put on him, but this? He felt like he’d let them down.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his usual confident tone cracking. “I’ve been so caught up in... everything. I should have been here, should have planned something for you.”

They shook their head, smiling softly. “Victor, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

He stared at them for a long moment, a mixture of emotions swirling inside him. They didn’t hold a grudge. They weren’t upset or disappointed. Instead, they looked at him with the same affection they always had, and it nearly broke him.

Victor squeezed their hand, pulling them gently into his arms. “You’ve done all this for me, and I didn’t even realize... I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to theirs.

They chuckled softly, wrapping their arms around him. “Well, you’ve got me anyway.”

He let out a small, almost shaky breath, holding them tighter. For the first time in what felt like ages, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift just a little. The chaos of his world faded, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the steady beat of their heart against his chest.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Victor promised, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll make every day feel like this, I swear.”

His love pulled back just enough to look up at him, their eyes sparkling with amusement. “You don’t have to go that far, Victor. But I’ll hold you to at least making next year’s anniversary special.”

Victor smirked, his usual confidence slowly returning as he leaned down to kiss them, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.

As they melted into his kiss, he knew that he would do whatever it took to make it up to them. They deserved nothing less.

***********************************************************************

Victor Rookwood had never been one for grand gestures, but when he heard that his love’s broom had been stolen and that they’d been feeling down ever since, he saw an opportunity. He knew how much they enjoyed flying—so much that the loss of their broom seemed to cast a shadow over their usual brightness. And so, without hesitation, he pulled every string, spent more Galleons than he’d care to admit, and found the best broom money could buy.

When the day came to present the gift, Victor was almost smug. He met them in a quiet spot just outside Hogsmeade, the new broom wrapped in a polished black case lined with gold trim. The broom itself was a sleek, top-of-the-line racing model, the kind that would make even the most experienced flyer’s heart race.

His love’s eyes widened when he handed it to them, a wide grin breaking across their face as they ran their fingers along the sleek handle.

“Victor... this is incredible! You didn’t have to do this!” they exclaimed, their voice filled with excitement and awe.

He allowed himself a small, pleased smile, his chest swelling with pride. “It’s only fitting. You deserve the best.”

Before he could say anything more, they threw their arms around him in a tight hug, leaving Victor momentarily stunned. When they pulled back, they wasted no time—hopping onto the broom, barely able to contain their excitement.

“I’m going for a quick fly!” they said, their eyes gleaming with childlike glee as they kicked off the ground.

Victor watched them soar into the sky, feeling content as they looped and glided with ease. His satisfaction, however, was short-lived.

Adria, who had been watching from the side, quietly approached, a knowing smile on her face that made Victor slightly uneasy.

“You really went all out for them,” she said lightly, though there was an unmistakable amusement in her tone.

“Of course,” Victor replied, still watching his love as they zipped through the air. “They deserve it.”

Adria laughed softly, causing Victor to glance at her with a raised eyebrow. “Something funny about that?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied sweetly, though her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Just that you may have unintentionally unleashed chaos.”

Victor frowned, turning his full attention to her now. “What do you mean?”

Adria tilted her head, eyes still fixed on the sky where his love was now attempting some... questionable maneuvers. “You didn’t hear why their last broom went ‘missing,’ did you?”

Victor’s brow furrowed. “Stolen, wasn’t it?”

Adria gave him a small, sympathetic smile, the kind that felt like a warning. “Well, that’s what they said, but... in truth, they fly like an absolute maniac. Their broom didn’t disappear. I’m pretty sure it was taken away—by a terrified friend or maybe even a shopkeeper who witnessed the carnage.”

Victor blinked, processing the new information just as he watched his love attempt a barrel roll that ended with them narrowly avoiding crashing into the side of a nearby tree. He stiffened.

“They... what?” he asked, voice tight with disbelief as his love attempted another risky stunt in the distance.

“Oh yes,” Adria continued, her voice as sweet as ever, but the words sharp. “They’re a force to be reckoned with behind a broom. I mean, I love them dearly, but let’s just say... flying isn’t exactly where their common sense shines.”

Victor’s eyes followed his love’s erratic flight path, now riddled with dangerous turns and wild dips. His heart lurched every time they came too close to the ground or a tree. What had he done?

“They’ll be fine,” Adria added, as if reading his thoughts. “Probably.”

Victor’s stomach dropped as his love zoomed straight toward a patch of forest before pulling up at the last second, laughing like they were having the time of their life.

He turned to Adria, his usually calm demeanor rattled. “And you didn’t think to mention this before?”

Adria shrugged, giving him a sly smile. “I thought you deserved to see for yourself. Besides, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Victor’s mouth tightened into a thin line as he watched his love spiral in the air, their joy evident despite the terrifying display. His grand gesture, once something he thought would impress and delight, now felt like he’d handed over a weapon of mass destruction.

But then, amidst the chaos, his love landed in front of him, breathless and grinning ear to ear.

“That was amazing! I haven’t felt this free in ages!” they exclaimed, beaming up at him. Their happiness was infectious, and despite his concern, Victor couldn’t help but feel his heart soften.

He gave them a small, resigned smile. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, though his eyes flicked nervously toward the sky as if bracing for whatever came next.

His love wrapped their arms around him again, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Victor. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Victor exhaled, his arms tightening around them. Adria’s warning still echoed in his mind, but seeing the joy in his love’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Just... try not to kill yourself,” he murmured, half-serious.

They laughed, pulling back to give him a playful wink. “No promises.”

Adria, standing a few feet away, gave Victor a knowing look as if to say, I told you so. Victor shot her a glare, but there was no denying it—he had his work cut out for him.

Still, as his love climbed back onto the broom and took off again, soaring into the twilight sky, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. Maybe they were reckless, maybe a little too wild for their own good, but they were his, and somehow, that made all the chaos worth it.

************************************************************************

Adria returned home after a long day of delivering potions to the hamlets, her cloak dusted with the remnants of the forest paths she’d trekked, the cool evening air clinging to her skin. It had been a busy day, and all she wanted was to settle in with a warm cup of tea and a moment of peace.

She opened the door to her modest home, expecting the familiar quiet, but instead, the soft aroma of a meal hit her senses. Something savory, warm, and inviting. It took her a moment to realize that the scent wasn't something she’d left simmering on the stove earlier in the day. Someone had cooked.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she stepped further into the house, curious and cautious. As she turned the corner into the kitchen, the sight before her made her stop in her tracks.

There, standing by the stove with a dish towel slung over one shoulder, was her sibling’s love—Victor Rookwood. He was stirring something in a pot while her sibling set the table, carefully placing plates and utensils down with a focused expression.

Victor noticed her first, his eyes meeting hers, and for a brief moment, Adria could see a flicker of something unreadable cross his face—perhaps anticipation, perhaps something softer. He straightened up, giving her a small but polite nod.

“Adria,” he greeted, his voice even. “You’re back sooner than expected.”

Her sibling turned and smiled warmly at her. “We made dinner! Well, mostly Victor. I helped a little.” They walked over and gave Adria a brief hug, their eyes sparkling with affection.

Adria raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them, still trying to process the scene. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to her sibling being around Victor; she had seen them together more often lately. But the sight of Victor Rookwood—known for his dark dealings, sharp tongue, and ruthless reputation—calmly preparing dinner in her kitchen was... unexpected.

“Dinner, huh?” she finally said, her voice light but laced with her usual sharpness. “What’s the occasion? Or are we just trying to butter me up?”

Her sibling laughed, nudging her playfully. “No occasion. We just thought you’d be tired after your deliveries, so we wanted to do something nice.”

Victor’s expression remained neutral, though Adria could sense the slight tension in his shoulders as he stirred the pot. He wasn’t one to show vulnerability easily, and this—this was a vulnerable gesture, whether he liked it or not.

Adria’s gaze flicked to the counter, where a few potion ingredients were still scattered. Her mind wandered briefly to the interaction she’d had earlier in the day—one of Victor’s men had been hanging around her shop, getting a little too close for comfort, and not for the first time. It had been annoying, and she hadn’t hesitated to confront the man with a sharp tongue. But she also knew how to send a message.

As Victor ladled stew into a bowl, she reached into her cloak, fingers brushing against a small vial she’d been carrying all day. With a casual movement, she pulled it out and held it out toward him.

“Speaking of... I made something for you,” Adria said smoothly, her tone as sweet as honey, though the underlying meaning was anything but.

Victor glanced at the vial in her hand, his brows knitting slightly as he took it. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice careful.

“A petrification potion. Strong stuff,” Adria replied, her eyes gleaming with just a hint of mischief. “For when your men start growing too curious about my shop. One of them has been lurking around a bit too much for my liking. Best take care of it, hmm?”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Brother-in-law.”

Victor’s eyes darkened for a brief moment as he realized what she was implying. There was an unspoken understanding between them now—a delicate truce. He didn’t need to ask which man she was referring to; he knew. And while he didn’t outwardly show it, Adria could see the way his fingers tightened around the vial just slightly before he slipped it into his coat pocket.

“Consider it handled,” Victor replied smoothly, his voice calm, though there was a subtle edge to it.

Adria gave a small, satisfied nod, then turned to her sibling with a softer expression. “Thank you for dinner,” she said, her voice genuinely warm this time.

Her sibling smiled, completely oblivious to the silent exchange between Adria and Victor. “I’m just glad you’re home. We’ve missed you.”

Adria allowed herself a small smile in return, feeling the warmth of their sincerity. She took a seat at the table, glancing briefly at Victor as he sat down as well.

Though the tension between them remained, there was a new sense of understanding. Adria wasn’t warming up to him completely—not yet—but she appreciated that he was making an effort. And perhaps, in time, she would come to see him as more than just her sibling’s dangerous love interest.

For now, though, she was content to enjoy the meal and watch as the unlikely pairing of her sibling and Victor continued to evolve—slowly but surely.

#mallowresponse #ai use #use of chatgpt #victor rookwood #hogwarts legacy

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oohnotvery · 8 months ago

Text

Edges of the Night (Chapter 12)

Chapter 11 took me SO long to write, so I was relieved you all liked it (minus the cliffhanger).

Originally as I was writing Chapter 12, I planned to give you the entirety of this next “piece” of the story. As I started fleshing things out though, this chapter got incredibly long, and editing it has been a beast. I’m leaving to go out of town for a few days and have decided to split Chapter 12 into two or three smaller pieces. I’m hoping to feed you at least one more piece before I leave, but I can't promise anything.

Anyways, we’re super close to the end. Thank you soooo much for the comments. They FUEL me.

Although her current accommodations really are quite nice, Scully has been restless since arriving on the property. A combination of shock and sedation has made the past twelve hours a blur. She keeps remembering things in bits and pieces—seeing Skinner and the Gunmen appear at her bedside; listening as Skinner spoke to the woman in the hospital room, then the guard; leaving the hospital facility as a free woman, Byers pushing her in a wheelchair down a well-lit corridor. In fragments, she recalls a long van ride, awakening to a raging pain in her shoulder that Frohike promptly medicated with something over-the-counter.

The rest is lost to her.

When she wakes up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, she tamps down her initial panic by reminding herself that she is with trusted friends, that people who care about her have brought her here. Her shoulder aches badly but her mind is alert. There’s a plate of toast and a glass of water sitting on her bedside table, and she forces herself to sip at the water. A shopping bag sits beside the bed, and she rifles through it to find an interesting selection of generic women’s clothing and toiletries. She wonders who did the shopping and almost cracks a smile at the thought of Skinner picking out her underwear.

A note rests beside the shopping bag, the handwriting unfamiliar.

Come downstairs when you’re ready.

She peeks out the bedroom window and sees a thick forest shrouded in twilight. It takes her a few minutes to find a bathroom and then the stairs. She quickly realizes she’s in an old house, and at the foot of the stairs is a living room where everyone has gathered. All four of the men watch as she takes the stairs and joins Frohike on the couch. They glance at her with a funny mixture of expressions: apprehension, relief, fondness, grief.

Grief.

She doesn’t waste time on greetings or platitudes.

“Do we know anything about Mulder?” she asks, her voice weak from disuse.

Skinner shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “Not exactly,” he tells her regretfully. “My contacts at the Bureau told me that someone lunged at the cameraman, that there was a gunshot, and that Agent Mulder went down. From there, all the accounts report simply . . . chaos. When everything was said and done, Agent Mulder could not be located.”

Scully licks her lips, restraining her emotions. This is good, she thinks. They didn’t find a body.

“Who attacked the cameraman?” she asks.

“It’s not yet clear what happened,” he says enigmatically, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit meaningfully to the Gunmen’s. They know something that I don’t, she realizes with a sinking stomach.

“But you should know,” Skinner continues, “that regardless of the facts, the Bureau is officially reporting that Agent Mulder died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

She closes her eyes and wills herself to breathe. There’s no proof, her logical mind argues. No one actually saw it happen.

But there was a gunshot.

“How did you know where I was being held?” she redirects, her investigative mind fighting for dominance over her emotions.

Skinner clears his throat. “That uh, that was part of the deal,” he explains tentatively.

A pause. “The deal?”

“Mulder made plans to ensure your safety before—before committing the act,” he explains. “Part of that arrangement was releasing you freely back to your life, whatever that may look like. To live in peace.”

She scoffs. There’s no peace if Mulder is dead. “They put a gun to my head and filmed it for him to see,” she counters petulantly. “Mulder never had any real bargaining power with them. They could have killed me the minute Mulder—pulled the trigger.” She fumbles over the words.

Skinner shrugs. “Yes, well . . . he planned for that too.”

She raises a brow in question.

“Before Mulder agreed to any sort of . . . action on his part, he asked that you be released into my protection. I got the orders to meet you at the hospital just hours after you were brought in.” Skinner’s face softens slightly as he nods towards the Gunmen. “I brought these three with me, because a long time ago, Mulder made me promise to use them to keep you safe. So that’s what I did. That’s why you’re here with us instead of back home in California.”

She takes a minute to absorb his words and feels a curious, confusing, unexplainable anger begin to rise in her body. “And where am I, exactly?”

“You’re at a safe house,” Skinner explains, “deep in the mountains of rural West Virginia.”

She cocks her head testily. “If I’m such a free woman now, why did you need to bring me to a safe house? I thought I wasn’t in danger anymore.” Her heart is beating fast, furiously.

“Truthfully, we don’t have all the facts yet. We don’t know what happened to Agent Mulder and we don’t want to risk your safety any further.” He pauses, his expression hardening. “If Agent Mulder isn’t—if he didn’t die, and if they discover that he’s still alive, your life could still be in danger.”

“And if—if the opposite is true?” She can’t even bring herself to speak that possibility aloud.

Skinner nods tightly. “If Agent Mulder is dead, then you’re free to live your life. Mulder’s death guaranteed your continued safety.”

“There is no guarantee,” she spits as heat rises to her cheeks. It’s irrational, and she remembers the threat of a cold gun pressed against her temple, but all she knows right now is a searing pain, a heated rage, a colossal fury, at the fact that once again, Mulder thought he could save her life by leaving her. “Those people—whoever they are—they could still decide to murder me, or torture me, or kidnap me. Just because he might be—dead doesn’t mean I’m safe—”

Skinner holds up a hand and she falls quiet, her mouth open in protest. “It was a guarantee,” he says softly but firmly. “Mulder’s life for your protection. As much as they threatened to hurt you, Scully, they never actually wanted you. Sure, they used some very credible threats to scare Mulder into making moves. But now that he’s gone—”

She flashes Skinner a warning look and he murmurs an apology.

“Now that Mulder might be gone,” he corrects quietly, “they couldn’t care less about you. It was always about discrediting the X-Files, discrediting Agent Mulder. And you were always just . . .”

“A pawn,” she says softly. “But the X-Files were mine too.” A sharp pain rips through her heart, surprising her. She’s been so distracted, so busy, so scared, that she hasn’t quite begun to absorb the loss of the files, or the grief that comes with that loss. She shoves the thought aside. It will be something to deal with later.

Skinner sighs. “Yes, well. Luckily for you, all they wanted was the figurehead of the X-Files. We’re in a holding pattern right now, waiting to see if any more information comes forward about Agent Mulder. But when you return to California, your safety is guaranteed, so long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Her ears ring with the unfairness of it all. “They tried to kill us!” she spits. “They made Mulder destroy his life’s work, they villainized him for kidnapping me, they’ve made him out to be some kind of—of—of lunatic! When all he ever wanted to do was keep me safe. It’s not fair, it isn’t right. The world needs to know the truth—”

“Agent Scully!” Skinner barks exasperatedly. She falls quiet. “Agent Mulder gave his life for you. And these three men have risked everything to keep you safe. If you return to California and start spouting off the truth of what happened out there, Mulder will have died in vain.”

Something inside her snaps. “He’s not dead, dammit!” she shouts, leaping to her feet. She fixes Skinner with a furious look and he rises, catching hold of her biceps. But when he meets her incensed gaze with tenderness, her defenses fall.

“He can’t be dead,” she whispers desperately as he pulls her into his arms.

She feels a large palm cup the back of her head and her entire body trembles as grief and outrage race through her. He’s right, she tells herself, but in the back of her mind, she’s still wondering about the suspicious look he exchanged with the Gunmen earlier. They know something I don’t, her mind plays on repeat. What aren’t they telling me?

“Do you know?” she asks wetly, pulling back. “Do you know what happened to Mulder?”

Skinner shakes his head candidly. “I do not.”

She swallows hard, her vision swimming, and drops back down to the couch. She rakes her hands through her hair, tugging hard at the roots and wincing when the pain is too much.

“Mulder spent years blaming himself for the way my life has played out. Funny,” she says with a mirthless laugh, “that I’m now the reason for his suffering.”

All four men drop their eyes to their laps and a tense, disconsolate silence fills the space. Gently, Frohike places a hand on her wrist and she notices offhandedly the way her tears pool on the back of his hand.

“So,” she asks after a time, brushing carelessly at her wet cheeks. “This is an FBI safe house?”

Skinner’s solemn face finally ticks up into a sort of smile. He glances at the boys. “No. It’s a Lone Gunmen safehouse.”

It’s been twenty-four hours since she was rescued from the hospital room. She aches from head to toe and her post-surgery body is desperate for rest, but she can’t sit still.

Her mind is obsessively fixated on Mulder. Whether he’s alive, whether he’s being held somewhere, whether he’s dead and where they’ve put his body. Skinner has delicately kept her abreast of all the Bureau updates—official headlines about Mulder’s erratic behavior, his descent into madness, his visits to the psych ward. His suicide.

Yes, the X-Files have been properly besmirched.

For hours, Frohike tries to get her to eat, but her stomach refuses anything besides toast. She blames her lack of appetite on the surgery, but anyone with half a brain can tell she’s stuck in the agonizing push-and-pull of despair and hope.

The first morning at the house dawns gloomily. Raindrops streak the windows and low, leaden clouds hang heavily across the sky. Out here in the woods, where a thick forest surrounds the house on every side, she can hardly see anything but trees.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table pushing oatmeal around in a bowl when Skinner bursts into the room.

“Get to the basement,” he demands tersely, yanking his Glock out of its holster.

She jumps up abruptly but before she can ask questions, the Gunmen are ushering her swiftly towards the house’s basement stairwell. She glances back at Skinner and watches him duck beneath the front window.

“What is it? What’s happening?” she asks as she flies down the stairs.

Langly slams shut the basement door and locks it quickly, then gestures for her to keep moving. “A car coming up the road triggered the alarm system.”

“But it—it could be anyone,” she suggests rationally, even though her heart is racing. “A lost hiker, someone just passing through—”

Langly shakes his head knowingly. “Not out here. This is end-of-the-world territory.”

The basement is wide and spacious, lit by a single, exposed bulb with a pull-chain. Although there are places to sit against the walls, everyone remains standing, a collective anxiety thrumming between their bodies. If someone dangerous breaches the house, if Skinner can’t hold them back, Scully knows the four of them don’t stand a chance down here.

“I need a weapon,” she mutters irritably. “Why don’t I have a weapon?”

No one answers her and she swears. “I should be up there with Skinner,” she says defiantly. “Even unarmed, I can fight—”

Frohike places a firm hand on her uninjured shoulder. “Let him handle it. You’re the priority.”

When she opens her mouth to protest, he shoots her a warning look that she’s never before seen on the little man. “Agent Scully, might I remind you that we didn’t go to all this trouble for you to die.”

She glares at him for a second longer before her shoulders sag in surrender. Stuck down in the basement, though, her frustration and anxiety have nowhere to go, and she finds herself pacing restlessly. If there is danger upstairs, she would rather face it head-on. Hell, she’d give almost anything to have a chance at taking down the people who hurt her and Mulder.

Eventually, she makes her way to the top of the stairs and presses her ear to the door, but the basement might as well be a steel trap for all that she can hear. Frustrated and on edge, she paces back down the stairs and rounds on Frohike.

“What do you and Skinner know about Mulder that I don’t?” she demands accusatorily.

His eyebrows fly to his hairline. “What do you mean—”

“I saw the look he gave you earlier when you were talking about what happened at the Hoover Building. Something—something happened and you all know—”

A knock at the basement door sends them jumping out of their skins, and all three of the boys rush to stand protectively in front of her.

“All clear,” they hear Skinner announce loudly.

Frohike frowns, unconvinced, and starts climbing the stairs towards the door. “Prove it, FBI boss,” he shouts back.

“Open the damn door, Frohike,” comes a familiar voice.

Scully gasps, her whole body freezing. And then she lurches forward, shoving Frohike aside to take the basement stairs two at a time. Her fingers fumble agitatedly at the lock on the door and when she finally gets it, she flings it open.

Mulder stands at the entrance, a beaming Skinner behind him. She meets her partner’s eyes, tracks the elation and devotion in his gaze. His lips quirk into a smile and she sags with relief.

“Come here, Scully,” Mulder murmurs quietly, just for her.

Without hesitation, she falls into him and he catches her, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist, pressing her body flush to his. His other hand sinks into her hair, drawing her head down into his chest. She links her uninjured arm around his neck and squeezes him fiercely, unwilling to ever let go.

“You’re alive,” she breathes, tears gathering on her lashes, “oh, thank God, you’re alive.”

“You okay?” he asks, fingertips skimming her wounded shoulder. She notices offhandedly that he is trembling.

Holding back a sob, she nods, pressing her face into his shirt, letting her tears dampen his neck.

“I love you,” she mouths into his skin, unwilling to speak the words in front of their audience.

His fingertips scratch idly at her scalp, then travel down to her neck, then her back, where his warm palm rubs up and down her spine. She wants to stand here all day wrapped in his arms, but after a few moments, his hands slip to grip her waist, and then he gently pushes her back. Off her surprised look, he gives her a soft, sad smile, then brushes his thumb across her jaw. Her hands resettle against his hips, unwilling to lose contact with him just yet.

“You, uh, you may want to say hello to the person responsible for my being alive.” His tone is a complicated mixture of gratitude and resentment, and she frowns.

He pauses, his eyes pinning her in place, and then he dips his head and breaks her gaze. When he moves aside, her mouth parts in shock.

Because standing behind Skinner is Alan.

#mulder x scully #dana scully #the x files #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #x files #fox mulder #txf #xfiles fanfic #msr

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todouswife · 1 year ago

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Guardians of Serendipity- pt 4

Well, I think this is at least decent. but for the ppl who are interested in this story, it is deff gonna pick up and turn into more of an action/thriller romance story it's just starting off a little slow. sorry about that. I hope everyone enjoys!!!

Over the next couple of days, Yasmine made it a part of her routine to grab a cup of coffee with her new friends. They always made time in the morning to stop by and see Yasmine. She appreciated this even if it was short, it was nice. Yasmine was currently sitting on her bed scrolling through TikTok. She had been ignoring the calls and texts from her boyfriend for the past four days. She didn't know how to bring up what she knew. Her so-called best friend hadn't checked up on her since she saw her with her boyfriend. She was watching a video when she got a Facetime call from Shelby, her best friend, she debated on answering the call. Yasmine didn't really want to see or speak to her but figured it would be okay to answer the phone, maybe she would tell on herself and that would be the end of it.

As Yasmine answered the phone she heard Shelby speak, "Hey you haven't texted me in a while, are you okay?" she said, Yasmine sighed trying to figure out how she wanted to go about the conversation. She didn't know if she should bring up her boyfriend to see if Shelby had a reaction. After a brief pause, she decided to keep things cordial for now, not wanting to be too obvious about what she knew.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Yasmine replied with a forced smile. "I've just been dealing with some stuff lately. I haven't wanted to talk to anyone." Shelby seemed to accept the vague answer, but there was an underlying tension in the air. Yasmine couldn't help but feel betrayed and disappointed in her friend, who chose her boyfriend over their friendship.

"I understand, if you ever need to talk or hang out, I'm here for you," Shelby offered, though her words felt fake to Yasmine.

"I know I just haven't felt like doing much," Yasmine replied, masking her true feelings behind politeness.

Yasmine looked at Shelby through the phone screen. Shelby looked so natural while being so insincere to her. Yasmine felt a mixture of rage and sadness swirl within her. She wanted to yell and scream at Shelby through the phone but wanted to see how this would play out. Shelby hums to herself while biting her lip.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Shelby said hesitantly, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them.

Yasmine's heart raced as she anticipated what Shelby might say. Was this it? Was she actually going to tell on herself? How did Yasmine want to react to it if it was?

"What is it?" Yasmine asked, trying to appear casual while her mind was racing.

Shelby took a deep breath, "I've been hanging out with Mekhi a lot lately, and I didn't want you to hear it from someone else, but..."

Yasmine braced herself for what was coming, her pulse quickening as she wondered if Shelby was actually going to tell her.

"But Mekhi and I are just friends," Shelby continued, the words coming out in a rush. "I know it might seem weird, but we've just been keeping each other company because we've both been feeling lonely."

Yasmine felt a mix of emotions at Shelby's explanation. Yasmine let her face scrunch up at the explanation. She lied but her lie wasn't any better than the truth. Shelby's heart began to race at Yasmine's facial reaction.

"So because y'all have been lonely, y'all have been hanging out enough for people to possibly be suspicious and come back and tell me? That shit is weird." Yasmine says mugging the girl on the other end of the phone.

Shelby's eyes widened, "No, it's not like that. We're just friends, really."

Yasmine couldn't believe the audacity of her to play it off so casually. Anger boiled in her, threatening to spill over. She decided to press further, wanting to see how far Shelby would go with her lies.

"Just friends, huh?" Yasmine replied clearly annoyed and angry. "Funny how you conveniently started hanging out with him right around the time that we started fighting."

Shelby hesitated, her eyes darting away from the camera for a moment. "Look, I didn't mean to neglect our friendship. It's just, Mekhi and I found comfort in each other during a tough time."

Yasmine scoffed, "Comfort? Is that what you call it? You found comfort in my boyfriend while I was dealing with my own problems?"

Shelby bit her lip nervously, realizing she was losing the upper hand in this conversation. "Yasmine, I swear, it's not what you think. We're just friends, and I didn't want to burden you with my own struggles."

Yasmine felt a surge of anger and betrayal. The person she thought she could rely on had betrayed her trust. "I'm not stupid Shelby, I know it was you with him at that cafe. Y'all were hugged up on each other. That's not something friends do. Besides don't you think it's better to put your problems on me rather than act booed up with my man?"

Shelby let out an aggravated sigh, "Yas, I was not booed up with him. You need to calm down, you are working yourself up over nothing." Yasmine decided she didn't want to listen to any more of her lies.

"No, I don't want to hear that shit. I already know that you are sleeping together, you can have him. Fuck you and him have a nice night." Yasmine hung up the phone and blocked Shelby and her ex.

The room was tense as Yasmine sat on her bed, her phone buzzing incessantly with messages from Shelby and Mekhi, probably from social media. She wanted to read them but she knew that it would just upset her more than she already was. Yasmine felt like she needed to talk with someone. Normally her go-to is her roommate and friend Jaleah but she was at work and Yasmine knew she shouldn't disturb her at work. With a deep breath, she dialed Roman's number.

Roman's voice came through the line, "Hey, Yasmine. Everything okay?"

Yasmine hesitated for a moment, her voice cracking some as the anger turned into sadness, "I need someone to talk to. Can you guys come over?"There was a pause, and Yasmine could almost hear the silent conversation among Roman, Jey, Jimmy, and Solo.

Finally, Roman replied, "Of course. We'll be there in a bit."

"Thank you," Yasmine said with tears rolling down her face. Roman gave her a short response before hanging up the phone. Yasmine texted him her address and threw her phone to the side and then buried her face in her knees. It was so frustrating. Why did she have to be the one to go through this? While she had already come to terms with what was going on it didn't make it hurt any less. All the years worth of memories with the both of them were tainted. she spent so long and the two people she trusted the most hurt her in the worst way possible.

After about 20 long minutes there was a knock on the door. Yasmine drug herself out of bed, she stumbled a bit as she got up, her sight still blurred with tears. Yasmine reached the front door and looked through the peephole. She saw exactly who she was expecting so she opened the door to find Roman, Jey, Jimmy, and Solo standing there, they all looked worried. Yasmine steps to the side and lets them in the apartment. They silently walked in.

"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Yasmine weakly says with a sniffle.

Everyone settled in the living room, Roman, Solo, and Jimmy smooshed on a couch while Jey and Yasmine got comfortable on cushioned chairs.

"Yas were here for you. You just gotta tell us what's up." Jey says in a reassuring tone while looking at Yasmine. Yasmine sighs and looks at the floor as she begins to tell them everything. From what she found on her boyfriend's iPad to the Facetime call with Shelby and everything in between. Yasmine let it all out she needed it. She yelled, cried, and screamed. She felt so vulnerable.

Roman's face showed empathy for her, "I'm sorry you're going through this, Yasmine. I know it's not easy."Yasmine nodded, her eyes welling with tears once again, "Do you need a hug?" he said with his arms extended. Yasmine nodded, and they both got up to hug. Yasmine buried her face into Roman's chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, still slightly crying. Roman stroked her hair while having his other arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Jey trying to lighten up the mood gets up and wraps his arms around Yasmine's shoulders. "Let me get in on this." Yasmine giggles and pulls out of Romans's chest whipping her eyes.

"I'm actually so glad I ran into you guys," she sniffles again.

Jimmy smiles, "Yeah, and we're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us now." while following his brother's actions. Yasmine couldn't help but let out a small chuckle and hug the brothers back.

"Solo you gotta get in this hug now." Yasmine laughs, Solo smiles lightly and gets up to join the group hug. Yasmine smiles feeling comforted knowing she at least had a support system to help her. Soon they all separated and sat back down.

"Do you want to get some food and ice cream?" Jimmy asks

Yasmine's eyes brightened at Jimmy's suggestion. She quickly nodded her head yes. Roman chuckled, "Food and ice cream sound like a plan," He said, a reassuring smile on his face. The group quickly decided on a nearby diner known for its comfort food.

As they walked to the diner, the guys continued to crack jokes and share lighthearted banter. Yasmine found herself constantly laughing at the others.

The diner, with its cozy booths and familiar aroma of comfort food, provided a welcoming atmosphere. They ordered a variety of dishes, indulging in a collective feast that somehow made everything feel a little better.

Between bites, Jey asked, "So, what's the plan now, Yas? How do you want to handle all of this?"

Yasmine thought about the question for a second. She never actually got that far. "Honestly, I just want to move on. I don't think it's worth the heartache. I don't need that drama in my life. I think I mourned the relationship a while ago I just needed the push to say something."

Jimmy, with a playful grin, added, "If you need any revenge ideas, just let us know. We got you."

Yasmine chuckled, "No revenge needed. I wanna focus on myself and get myself right. I can't do that if I'm focused on getting my get back."

After the meal, they decided to cap off the night with a visit to an ice cream parlor. As they ate the sweet treats, Yasmine couldn't help but feel grateful for the turn in her day.

Later after Yasmine felt better the men took her back to her apartment and soon left after. On their car ride home they talked amongst themselves, Yasmine was so sweet. She was way too good for her ex, and while she didn't have the energy to do anything to make them as sad as her, that didn't go for her new friends. They were upset that someone had the nerve to do that let alone someone they had grown fond of. The four of them had connections and lots of them, and while they wouldn't let Shelby and Makhi be hurt physically they would be hit where it hurt for sure. They would make sure of it.

__________________________________ Now something small I wrote for it that isn't fully in the story and lowkey i love it, i like my men a little delulu but not everyone does sooooo

Solo sat in the backseat of the car as they drove through the city. The night had taken a turn, and he found himself feeling a mix of anger on behalf of Yasmine. He listened to the conversation in the car, his mind already formulating a plan. Yasmine may not have wanted to do anything but he and everyone in the car did.

Roman, driving the car, glanced at Solo through the rearview mirror. "Solo, you been quiet. What's on your mind?"

Solo leaned forward, his expression serious. "Yasmine didn't deserve any of this shit. It pisses me off they did that. I wanna do something to make them feel the same way."

Jimmy, turned around from the front passenger seat and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we can't let them think they can mess with one of ours and get away with it."

Jey chimed in, "But we gotta be smart about it. We can't risk bringing unnecessary attention."

Roman listened to the input from the twins and Solo, "I agree. We need to hit them where it hurts without causing more problems for ourselves."

As they continued to discuss their plan, Solo's thoughts were focused on the best way to deliver a message that would make Shelby and Mekhi regret their actions. He knew they had connections, and he intended to use them strategically.

Finally, Solo spoke up, "Let me handle this. I know some people who can make their lives a living hell without us getting directly involved."

Roman raised an eyebrow, "You sure about this, Solo? We don't want any unnecessary trouble."

Solo nodded, his jaw clenched. "I got it under control. They messed with one of ours, and they need to pay."

The car fell into a determined silence as they headed back to their usual meeting spot. Solo's mind was already working out the details of the plan. He knew how to navigate the underground, and he had connections that could make things very uncomfortable for Shelby and Mekhi.

As they pulled up to their destination, Solo looked at the brothers and Roman. "Trust me on this. I'll make sure they regret messing with Yasmine."

The twins exchanged glances before Jimmy grinned, "Do your thing, Solo. We got your back."

Solo stepped out of the car, his mind focused on the task at hand. Revenge wasn't always the answer, but in this case, he couldn't let the betrayal go unanswered.

As he disappeared into the night, the brothers and Roman exchanged a glance. They trusted Solo to handle things.

_____________________________________

they ain't gonna be physically harmed but their reputation may as well be dead as well as their social life but that's if I actually include this in the lore of the story lol :P

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theknightmarket · 1 year ago

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"It's just not easy."

In which Damien finally decides what to do.

[This is the second part to 'What if I Just Sit Here and Die', a request from my lovely anon, Alexandrite! I hope you enjoy it!]

TW: anxiety, possible panic attack (?)

Pages: 12 - Words: 5,000

[Requests: OPEN]

If someone had told a younger Damien that, in a year, he would be sitting in his normal classroom, in his normal seat with his normal peers around him, he would’ve been confused as to why they were telling him this. However, should they have continued on to say he would be sweating through his cotton shirt, his pen slipping out of his clammy hands and steam practically seeping through his collar - only because of the fact that he was sitting next to someone who said some nice things to him, spoke to him in a kind tone, was pretty damn handsome and/or beautiful themself, and risked a penalty by making jokes about the professor? He’d blush, just as he was in that moment, and ask, “Well, how will that moment end?” And the someone will laugh, shake their head, and say, “You’ll both be forced to clean the classroom for the next week.”

Presently, Damien was barely paying attention to the words of the professor. He was going on about something about the relationship between the government and the public, but he was more focused on the stray mutterings of the person next to him. You, who occasionally leaned over to whisper a joke or comment that had him stifling a laugh, generously spent your time entertaining him instead of listening to the lecture. In truth, it probably benefited neither of you in the long run, but Damien couldn’t deny that this was the most fun he’d ever had in a lesson before. He was learning just as much, anyway, so it didn’t make a difference. Not to him, at least.

To the professor, who was barely managing to stay on track with the incessant whispering that kept stealing his attention, it made a lot of a difference.

“Is there something you two would like to share?” he asked, making you freeze with your upper body halfway out of your new seat. Your mouth hung open, and Damien’s eyes met yours with a flurry of silent emotions. Horror, sympathy, and then resolve. He hadn’t a clue what you were planning, but from the way you slowly reared back and looked to the man at the front of the classroom, he had faith it was going to be good.

“Sorry, sir, I’m just slightly confused on how this can be allowed while following the privity of contract.”

The professor’s expression matched Damien’s own, a pure slate of shock, before the older man’s drifted off into confidence.

“Well, in this scenario, neither party has obligations imposed on them in the technical sense…” He continued his chatter, but Damien was not focused on that yet. He was more taken by you relaxing back into the hold of your wooden chair, the complete relief when your lie passed through your lips like every other breath. He didn’t know whether he should have been impressed or worried, but he settled on a mixture of the two.

“How did you do that?” he wondered aloud, trying to keep his voice low enough that it flew under the radar of the professor’s new tangent. Still, there was evident awe in his tone, a thing that you couldn’t stop a blush rising along the ridge of your jaw at.

You exhaled lightly. “Learned to—” and when you saw that he was still looking at you, you amended, “—if I’m going to be a district attorney, I’m going to have to lie on command.”

Despite the scathing remark about the integrity of the legal system, Damien blinked at the implication. “Really? The D.A?” It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could make it – in fact, he was certain that you’d end up in the newspapers with that title if you set your mind to it –, but he was more amazed that you had your mind made up so sure. There wasn’t a glimmer of hesitation in your words or your face, and Damien marveled at it.

“What, don’t think I could handle it?” you laughed back.

“N-no, I just, well, um—”

“I’m joking,” you replied quickly upon hearing him start to fumble his words. “I get it. Bit of a lofty ambition, but I know that if I finish this course and get the degree, there is a position waiting to be filled at Seriva’s Law Office.” You pulled up one finger. “From there, I’ll work all the cases I have to, until I get a job at the Bolitz court.” Another finger. “Defense attorney for the state, court judge, probably get fired once or twice, and then, eventually district attorney of Los Angeles.”

By now, you had all five fingers on one hand in the air, as if your plan were just easy steps. It was something Damien couldn’t begin to fathom, but it must have been so great that it overrode his facial functions because the next words out of your mouth were, “What about you?”

What about him?

What could he say to you? What did you want to hear? If he lied to you, pretended he had everything planned out, or even a semblance of an idea, would you know? There were so many uncertainties that he couldn’t plot, and only a small amount that he could guess the answers to; you probably wouldn’t look down on him if he admitted the truth, but he wasn’t all that willing to take the risk. The last thing he wanted was to lose a potential friend, especially you, though there was no way he could make up something as detailed as your plan was in such little time—

“I haven’t thought that far.” His mouth had gotten tired of waiting for his brain to catch up, apparently, and it went ahead with spilling the truth. He couldn’t back out now, not when you were looking at him with that expression, so he continued, “I have no clue, and it has been killing me that I don’t.”

For the split second that your mouth remained closed, Damien looked at your face, and used one of the skills that he was most proud of. He’d used it on his parents to avoid an argument, his guidance counsellor to get out as fast as possible, his extended family when they asked when he was getting married. He read your expression with bated breath and was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. You looked surprised, but not in a oh-my-God-how-could-I-talk-to-someone-so-immature way. The tilt of your head and the quirk of your lips showed you were simply surprised, and that was all. No disgust or horror present! Damien was somewhat embarrassed by how his heart sped up a bit when he recognised it.

And how it skipped two beats when you replied, “Hey, if you ever need an ear, I’ll be around.”

With that, you turned back to face the professor, who had still not run out of the fuel that you had chucked onto his flames. You listened intently, even though every sentence was punctuated with ‘this won’t be on the exam but…’, while Damien watched you, equally as intent. The rapid fluctuating of his heart was dying down, and its withering gave way to a small comfort nestled deep in his bones. An unfamiliar sensation, but not one that was unwelcome. In fact, it was entirely encouraging – prompting him to tune back in when the professor got on track and scribble down a few notes. Notably, concepts that he could understand.

The pride only lasted as long as it took for the both of you being caught chatting again – which was in the midst of another unnecessary talk, for context – which landed you in hot water. That someone didn’t lie.

As it turned out, your offer of someone to listen to were needed quicker than you thought. Barely a full day had passed by the time that you were sitting at the desk in your doom room, fiddling with a pen and trying to underline the important information in your textbook without outright underlying the entire paragraph. It was a tough and stubborn read, like wading through mud, and picking out useful aspects was even more so; clumps stuck to the words, hidden roots held them down, and you were quickly finding yourself hoping for a reason to take a break.

The answer to your prayers was at the door in the next thirty seconds. Just as you had taken your reading glasses off to smear a hand over your eyes, you heard a frantic knock ill-disguised as a casual one. You briefly tried to remember if you had messed up in any way for the small amount of time you’d occupied this room, but the question came with a blank answer – so, with little else to do, you got up from the desk and swung open the door.

Th sight of someone distinctly not administration greeted you. You weren’t in trouble, that was good, but a frown made its way onto your mouth regardless.

“Oh, hey, Damien,” you started, taking in his concerning state, “are you okay?”

His bowtie was pulled out, and his jacket was nowhere to be found, leaving him in just his dress shirt and pants at your door. Even his collar button was undone, which, in the rest of the world, might not have been deemed outrageous, but you’d only seen him in business settings before. This was a jump you weren’t expecting to make so soon.

“I-,” he immediately stopped himself. One hand flittered up to his cuff to adjust it before he spoke again, “-no, no, I’m not. I’m worried, and stressed, and scared and…” he trailed off in his panic, the worry trapping itself in his head.

You couldn’t leave him outside like this. From the looks of it, this wasn’t his first time in such a state, but this was his first time coming to you, and you weren’t going to mess this up.

Setting a plan of action in your mind, you planted your hands on Damien’s shoulders, seemingly shocking him out of his thoughts with a jolt. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

He followed your simple instruction well. That alone was good, so you took the time to dip into your room again, not noticing the brief flash of deeper panic that shot across his face. It only lasted until you reemerged with two jackets, but it was there.

A beat up, old truck was your best shot at leaving campus. You’d taken the keys one night after a party with your friends. You hadn’t a clue who it really belonged to, but it was now yours, and it wasn’t as though someone had come to retrieve it. So, yours now.

And what a spout of good luck it had been. Gesturing Damien into the passenger seat, you heaved a sigh of relief. Walking all the way to your little spot would have been a horror story waiting to happen. He climbed in without any hesitation, which would have been appreciated in any other circumstance. Now, it made you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. By the time you’d buckled yourself into the driver, you’d decided that you didn’t like numb Damien.

Multiple attempts were made to tease a reaction out of him. Humming music you’d heard on a gramophone recently, picking up conversation topics out of the bottom of your brain, literal teasing. None worked, aside from getting a few polite chuckles out of him or a nod, so you did the one thing you’d been told not to do from day one; you put all your eggs into one basket and pressed down on the gas pedal.

In general, Damien never knew what he was doing, but this moment was special; for once, he hadn't really thought about his actions. He didn't sink onto his chair by his dorm window and stare longingly out at the students who actually knew what they were doing. This time, he'd acted on instinct, and an unfamiliar one at that. It was an impulse, embarrassing to him, that had drawn him to your door. To you, who in turn, had driven him in your truck all the way to a local lake. He hadn't payed attention to where you were headed during the journey, but, when he heard the sloshing of water against a bank, he had clocked you were in some place unknown to him. He forced himself to look at you when you guided him to a rockier side of the body. You, who he knew, who walked to the edge of the lake, who he trusted, who kneeled beside him with an armful of rocks.

“Take some,” you spoke, as if this were an entirely normal interaction on your end.

And, as if this were an entirely normal interaction on his end, he did. When he had secured two or three medium-sized rocks, the one in his left-hand dripping lake water onto his skin, he managed to ask, “What?”

You didn’t answer him, instead taking a second to lay some more in a pile between the two of you – though, the light-hearted grin on your lips eased his concerns for your mental health and brought a similar one to his own.

You filtered through the remaining ones in your arms, trying to find the best shape and texture. Damien didn’t know what you were looking for specifically, but he sat still, patiently, and watched you smooth a thumb over one of the finalists in your strange competition.

“You know, I’ve always loved rocks,” you commented while tripping to your feet over the sandy beach, “No clue why. Maybe I was a penguin in my past life.”

Now standing straight, you trot to the shoreline and wind one arm back, like a pitcher would for a big game. The concentration on your face was a sight to behold, the little adjustments of your form to get it just right a true spectacle. Damien dared not move a muscle for fear it would jostle your focus.

You shifted to the left, and then to the right, and then four steps backwards. You breathed in the crisp, night air.

And then promptly chucked the stone directly into the water with no skip to be seen.

“Dammit.”

The panic from earlier was beginning to dwindle; a tiny spark of fear that had rushed through him like a match to a gas leak was but a flicker. The hooting of owls this late into the night was common, but he had never been conscious enough to listen to them, whether it was because he was asleep or because he was thinking too much. Here, the flood of problems was traded for the sound of the lake’s water batting against sand. Damien found that he liked this more.

A few splashes and then a proud yell shook him from his pondering – he needed to stop – and then you turned to look at him. Rock in one hand and gesturing with the other, you called out, “Well, are you doing this or what?”

Gingerly, Damien rose from his seat on the dirt and joined them. The pair of you made quite the picture. You were trying to instruct Damien on how to stand, how to position his arm, how to angle the momentum. Along with giving him all the best tips to match your two-skip record, Damien could confidently say it was going averagely. You weren’t going to be entering any championships anytime soon, but your realistic lack of skill had no effect on how much fun you were having.

For the first time in a while, Damien was enjoying his time, and, for the first time in an even longer while, he wasn’t feeling bad about using his time for recreation. On most nights he took ‘off’, he’d sit on his bed, with a book in his hand, trying to keep his mind off of all the assignments he didn’t understand. With you manipulating his arm like a puppet, he didn’t mind. He assured himself that, if you were out with him, he wasn’t the only one ‘lacking behind’.

He broke out in giggles as he watched you practically drop another stone into the water in front of you. With as much an offended look you could manage, you pushed him to throw one himself.

Much to your chagrin, he beat your record. Such an accomplishment.

“The student becomes the master,” Damien joked.

“If this weren’t an actual rock, I would throw this at you.”

“Just joking!”

You continued on like that for the better half of an hour. The night got longer and colder, but it wasn’t enough to bother you. At this point, you weren’t sure what would be. Skipping stones with a friend was much better than doing it alone, you discovered. Your group in class were fine and good, you weren’t complaining, but you had… different tastes to them, and you weren’t about to drag all of them out to the lake to chuck stones until 3 in the morning. You had half the mind to propose you make this a tradition, but the other half told you that you didn’t know where you stood with Damien.

It was no secret to yourself or your friends that you liked the guy. He was sweet, he did his own thing, he didn’t take his life for granted. But were you friends yet? Did skipping stones together count as a friend-activity? Would it be presumptuous of you to call yourselves friends already? Seeming egotistic in front of Damien would be a nightmare for you. And why was that? You had no idea why you became so interested in his opinion of you so quickly. You were so bogged down with unanswerable questions that you hadn’t realized you’d quickly ran out rocks.

You took the out with fervor, rushing over to the pile you’d taken from and then heading back to lay them out from best to worst. Crouched down, you hadn’t expected Damien to start another conversation, so you were stuck in an unfortunate position of craning your neck upwards for the moment.

“How are you so calm about this?” he asked, a lighthearted tone but with an edge that hinted at something else.

Before answering, you clambered to your feet and dusted off your pants. “It’s not like skipping stones is illegal, right?”

“No, no that,” he laughed slightly, but it faded quickly, “I mean, how are you so planned?”

Now, that made you smile. “I appreciate that you think I am, but I’m not.” You jumped to finish your sentence when you saw Damien start to argue. “I just know how to get out of a slump.”

“A slump?”

A hum moved between your lips. “A slump, my friend—” you planted a hand on his shoulder, “—that’s what you’re in.”

As soon as you pointed this out, it was like a switch had been flipped. The corners of Damien’s smile laxed, his shoulders lost tension, and the bags underneath his eyes dropped. “It’s been a long slump, then,” he replied without much conviction, “and you said you know how to get out of one?”

You nodded, sending one last stone into the distance before focusing your full attention on Damien. You didn’t hear its splashes, only the sound of him sighing. “I think, right now,” you began, “you’re caring about the little things as much as the big things, right?”

He considered this for a second, until he nodded with a solemn expression, eyes downcast and darting anywhere but you.

Just that image made you swallow whatever pride you had left and decide very quickly to divulge your background to him. “I did the same thing in my first year. I’d originally planned to be on campus from the start to finish of college, but then I got it stuck in my head that I couldn’t because I’d made promises to do something that I wouldn’t otherwise be able to do. Pet sitting, or helping out with a relative, something like that…

“So, I stayed home. That wouldn’t have been so bad on its own, but assignments piled up and there was this one night when I would have to sacrifice all of my sleep, my food, everything healthy just to get this essay done,” you paused to inhale some of the crisp air. The night was getting darker, almost exactly as it had been the time you were describing. You continued, “And I did. And I felt horrible the day after, not only because I screwed over my whole body, but because I was still worried about it in the morning! Worried if I missed a citation, or I-I misplaced a comma.”

Standing next to you, Damien watched as your face was consumed by the memories. The look in your eyes was distant, but you weren’t looking over the water. It was as if the entire scene had disappeared, leaving only you behind, trapped in a fog. He’d gone through a night like that, and he knew the feeling well. It was the whole reason you were out there in the first place; worrying over something, getting it done, and then still worrying about it after the fact. He’d built his whole college-era around it.

The most he could do was offer a hand, both metaphorically and literally.

Damien’s hand coming to rest on your upper arm pulled your attention to him. A gentle smile that you mimicked on his lips, you couldn’t help but wonder how he got like this in the first place.

“But when I re-enrolled for this year, I thought about it more. I was actually writing the letter as I did, and I knew that if I did the same thing as last year, where I sacrificed my health for one assignment, I wouldn’t make it through. So, my solution was that I decided not to care.”

“What?”

You hummed in response to Damien’s mild shock. “That’s what my family said. The guidance counselor, too, and a couple of my friends. They acted like I’d gone and joined the circus. But it helped me. It was difficult at first; for the few months after we came back, I nearly broke my promise every week. Eventually, it got easier, and now, I’m exactly as you see before you.” You gestured to yourself as dramatically as you could handle after preaching your way of life.

Damien watched you for some time, to the point that you thought he’d run for the hills or call the guidance counselor back on you. It was only when he asked in a smaller voice than you’d heard him before, “What about the big things?” that you relaxed.

“The big things – family emergencies, big exams, twenty-five percent of my grade type of things – I’ll focus on. Don’t stress about the assault essay, but make sure you leave time for the finals. They’re the only things you’ll remember about the course, anyway.”

“You say that like it’s simple,” Damien chuckled.

“It is,” and you meant it, but you quickly amended at the distraught expression of your friend, “it’s just not easy.”

Reaching down to pluck a stone from the line-up, you finished your speech, “Takes a lot of practice to not care, so don’t expect to be an expert that fast.”

Your idea to continue skipping rocks was disrupted when Damien’s grip – which, unbeknownst to either of you, he had yet to remove – tightened. “And how am I supposed to start?” his voice took on a panicked quality, “I’ve already got myself too deep.”

Getting the sense that he was about to spiral, you refused to hesitate and, instead, wrapped your spare hand around his own. When you looked up, it seemed that Damien’s avoidant gaze was reserved for a shallower feeling of worry. The dread that you saw here meant he stared into your eyes directly, as if desperately trying to find the answer faster than you could say it.

“When we started skipping stones, what were you thinking about?” you asked. You tried not to notice how the corners of his mouth dropped even further with your seemingly cryptic question.

Still, he answered, “Whether you were legally sane or not.”

You shared a look of relief that Damien was stable enough to joke about the situation. “Ouch,” you muttered, “but that’s my point. You weren’t worrying about the course or the future or any assignments. You were focused on something that, to be honest, doesn’t matter. Because I doubt that you’ll remember this in a year. Not this moment, or the time you forgot a period in an essay or-or a lot of what you need to know for the exams. At that point, it won’t matter, so why care about it now?”

Despite your monologue being finished, you didn’t dare let go of his hand. You didn’t know whether it for his sake or yours, but you’d be going against your way of thinking if you said it really mattered.

“Of course, don’t go too far with it,” you spoke with a smile, “Care about the things that make you happy. Work won’t make you happy, so don’t care about it too much. Pay attention to who you are as a person, and you’ll be grand.” You didn’t want Damien to go from 1 to 100 in the next year, or, rather, 100 to 1 in the caring department. It was about striking the perfect balance and you were well up for being hit teacher.

When Damien nodded at you, having taken everything in, you allow yourself to slip back into the calm of the lake. It was a beautiful sight, and now you had someone else to share it with.

In your mind, this was the end of the night, and, as you began to aimlessly throw the remaining rocks in the general direction of where you took them from, you missed your new friend’s change in body language. It was subtle, but it was there – the straightening of his shoulders, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the final breath of a cool night’s air. When he was prepared, he turned to you and met your eyes.

No panic. No fear. No worry. A stark determination took their place.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

On a Friday evening, at eight o’clock, a procession of thirty students snaked its way across the college campus, from the entrance gate to the auditorium. Normally, that place would be empty of any life, but, then, it was heaving with parents, friends, and staff. The ceremonies that followed were just as lively. A chorus group sang some classical pieces, followed by multiple professors wishing the graduating class of 1908 a farewell. A final address from the principal sent people into tears, until the presentation of diplomas overruled it with near-constant clapping.

But that didn’t mean everyone was suddenly fine. Damien himself found that trying to keep it all in was a fruitless effort after he watched his fellow classmates receive their scrolls of paper, not to mention how he had to ask someone for a tissue when you went up, shook the principal’s hand, and walked off with a wink in his direction. His heart clenched with pride, and he could barely look away as he watched you make your way to the second row of the audience. The seat you ended up in was at the tail end of the row, right next to Celine, who grasped your hand with a smile that you shared. Next to her was Wilford, who, upon noticing Damien’s staring, cast his own, knowing look. He looked away before he could do anything more noticeable, seeing, next to him, Mark. He’d assumed that, like most things, he wouldn’t be overjoyed to be where he wasn’t the centre of attention, but there was a hint of a smile and happiness in his eyes that told him he was playing it up, this time.

Damien took a breath in and then a breath out. Crisp air – his heart rate slowed down into a duller thud. It was his turn.

Four simple, difficult steps. He got up, he walked to the principal, he took the degree and shook his hand, and then walked off.

He had graduated college, you both had, and he couldn’t be more excited to pursue the next few years of his life.

Especially given the way that you two met up when everyone had filed out at the end.

There had been plans for the friend group – one that you had been made a member of ever since Damien told his sister what had happened that fateful night – to get a table at an old café down the street and celebrate. A little talk prior to going up on the stage pushed those plans back ever so slightly.

Rounding the back of the auditorium, Damien caught sight of you leaning casually against the wall. No staff would be around there while they dealt with the rest of the students, meaning you wouldn’t be herded away just yet. You could enjoy this quiet moment for at least ten minutes, and you were very much going to.

“Hi,” you whispered as soon as Damien came close enough.

His response was simple. “Hello.”

“You looked handsome up there.”

In the past year, he’d gotten better at schooling his expression in public, but he didn’t consider you to be in public at that moment, so his redness and smile were as blatant as the day you met.

“Around people thirty years my senior, I should hope so—” he wrapped his hands around yours, intertwining your hands, “—I’m proud of you.”

You pulled him close with that hand. “You’re proud of me? I’m sorry, but your graduation is the culmination of my outlook on life. I’m proud of you.”

Your only thought in the proceeding second was that it should never be said that Damien was not a romantic man when it came down to it, as he leaned just that inch forward to push his own lips against yours. Whilst all the kisses you’d shared before had been amazing in their own right, this one was combined with the product of two years’ hard work and a year’s practice in self-respect. The smiles you both wore were held aloft by the graduation ceremony, high enough in the air that neither of you felt any need to pull apart. This was the time for love, nothing else, because there didn’t have to be. Everything was over, and, as your mouths moved against each other in crisp night air, you were ready for a new start.

Nearing your faces turning blue from a lack of oxygen, it was time to pull away, but that didn’t stop you from rejoining when you had gotten enough breath. This happened a few more times, though they gradually became more pecks than full kisses; you didn’t know how much time you had left until you were ushered from the campus, but you weren’t one to let an opportunity to tease Damien go easily.

The both of you gliding to a stop, simply staring into each other’s eyes, you whispered, “So, my advice worked, huh?”

Damien’s response was immediate, if not accompanied by a slight flush, “Oh, be quiet, you.”

And, like most times, he didn’t deny that you were right, given that listening to you was the best decision he’d ever made - your relationship was proof enough of that.

#theknightmarket #fanfiction #markiplier egos #markiplier #writing #markiplier egos x reader #one shots #request #x reader #damien x reader #da x damien #mayor damien #college era #reader insert #reader

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omorimodreverie · 2 years ago

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June Development Update

Overview

This month was a mixture of up and down in terms of activity. One notable thing about this period is that most of our team members have now finished with their finals, and have properly begun summer vacation. However, this does not necessarily mean that development speed increases!

There were major and minor bits of work done across most of our sectors this time, with the main being a slight reorganization of writing; some basic tileset work (our tilesets are beginning to be finalized!), and starting on polishing our map files.

What’s been done?

This month didn’t see any significant leaps in progress, but miscellaneous portions of work that are nevertheless vital have been completed across multiple sectors:

Inducted a new writing lead to the leads team

Finished primary dialogue work on around half of the cutscenes planned for chapter 3. Progress has also been made on the other half

Pixel Art is progressing slowly but consistently, with new additions/changes to our spritesheets every few days

Non-CH3 drawn art assets have also been worked on, mostly enemy sprites and concepts (We can’t wait to show them to you in the future, they’re very exciting!)

Discussion and slight reorganization around skill progression for future chapters, as well as on boss design. Rest assured, we are still putting gameplay first and foremost.

Summer Break, Right?

This month is when summer break properly starts for a good amount of people. Some start a bit earlier in May, and some in June; But by mid-June almost everyone is on summer break.

It might be tempting to think that progress will become much faster now that break is here, but to think so is a bit naive: as some people will also be taking their own time for, well, a break. [Like myself, Stahl. I’m typing this very dev log during vacation right now, that’s why it’s a bit late. Oops.]

Progress is projected to be more or less consistent with the speed of development so far, balanced by some being able to work more while some becoming unavailable for break.

Ending Notes

You may have noticed that this month’s dev log wasn’t as long as the last one in May. This is because the last one was our first ever dev log, so we had more stuff to talk about: including all developments made previous to May as well. Please expect posts of a similar length to this one going forwards.

We’d love to showcase some teaser for chapter 3 at this point, but since our progress this month has consisted mostly of writing and tilesets (which is difficult to showcase nicely), we don’t really have much to show off as usual.

Anyways, here’s an old Ice Angel enemy sprite made around April last year. This one’s unused now, and only has 2 (out of 3 and bunch more emotion variants) frames made, so this is not our final product (or appearing anytime soon lol).

#omori #omori mod #mod #omori game #omorimodreverie #reverie #omori reverie #devlog

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misty-zzz · 11 months ago

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Chapter 9

Finally writing block had let me go, off to its next victim 🤷

It’s a tad bit of a shorter chapter, but I think it’s a nice one :)

The Wubbox offered its gifts. Shiney clear stones, filled with potential. Dragong steals them right as he lays eyes on the valuables. He shut his eyes, but his concentration was halted by Auglur. They motioned some towards Dragong, he immediately remembers what he’s supposed to do. Not for the gems. He places the three gems on the goopy ground, and clears his throat.

“Thank you… for these supplies…” his eyes scatter around, avoiding any sort of eye contact. Auglur pushes him foward. “And, uhm- these will be a great help for me, and… I am appreciative of it.” He smiles quite awkwardly. Auglur eyes hint in a faint smile. Can’t tell too much of emotion in a floating eyeball flower. Tootoo smiles back, “It’s our pleasure!” She says.

“Anyways, back to this, I’ve finally remembered what I had to do.” Dragong crushes the crystals under his weight. He continued until it was fine dust — but it was just what he needed. He gathers the pile of dust up, and spits right into his palm. This is what magic is like for the monsters. A tad bit strange, but what’s needed.

Fiddlement seemed a tad bit disgusting by the now ball of spit and fine dust. Dragong carefully shapes the mixture into a round fire emblem, somehow able to with his cymbal hands. “Magic for us is weird. I’m not sure how our ancestors found out about this.” Dragong finished the reshaping of the mixture. So he does as he remembers, and places it on top of his forehead.

The orange sludge seeps into his skin and scales, his eyes are shut, and there was a faint glow of red radiating from him. His eyes peel back open. His magic was back, at least for fire balls.

“Did it work?! Fiddlement eagerly tilted forward. Dragong moves over to an area with no one. He draws out the same symbol mid air.

The symbol makes a light carve in the air, quickly becoming a cloud of fire. It shoots out, blasting the wall of the workshop. Gunks of the wall goop fly in every direction. “I did it!” Dragong’s wings burst up. “Oh how I missed magic!” He grins with his sharp teeth.

There were a couple of more explosions from Dragong. Eventually they decided the time had to come. Dragong was going to leave the hole. He’ll miss the triple element ethereals, sadly they aren’t able to join along.

“Don’t tell them about us.” Auglur plead the four. “I don’t want us to be found out by the mythicals. Especially after all I’ve heard from Dragong.” She sighs. “I promise, only we will know.” Tootoo assured her.

“Maybe I’ll come back here every once in a while.” Dragong thought out loud.

They headed off to the outside. Finally Dragong will smell some fresh air. For someone who had been trapped in a cave for so long, he really was a bundle of energy. He bounces on the walls, exploding everything in his path. The only area Wubbox forced Dragong to stop was the areas with the cave paintings.

Along this area, Dragong had a moment to slow down. “Sorry about that, way earlier.” He starts apologizing for seemingly nothing. “For what?” Fiddlement questioned. “That thing with auglur, how she made me say thank you and that stuff.” Dragong grumbled. “We’ve been working on our manners, I guess.” He went on “We knew that eventually we would have to see other monsters eventually. And we didn’t want them to see us as rude or anything.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that!” Tootoo exclaimed. “I’d rather have someone be kind than to be mean when I first meet them!”

“I guess I just kinda saw it as awkward.” Dragong drags along the dirt path.

With a few back rides on Dragong, and a whole lot of walking. They had done it. Now Dragong will reintroduce himself. A new era for him!

He takes his last breath of cave air, and his first in a while of ethereal air. But everything besides the air was ethereal. A group of monsters stood a couple of feet away.

“A little tweedle told me that someone was going inside that cave.” Laughed the small, stout, orange monster. “Is that-”

“The mythicals!” Dragong cuts off Tootoo. “Why in the name of galvana are you here?” Dragong snapped. He hated that Buzzinga. “For you, of course. Eventually you would wake up, we knew it wasn’t permanent.” The edges of his mouth curl. Something bad was about to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some silly notes::::

GUYSSSSS AAAAAHHAHAHAH

I’m SO excited to write the next chapter, FIGHTING AND ARGUING, LETSSS GOOOO!!!!

Also I kinda want to write a part 2 to fate of the stars, but then there’s another one shot in my mind too. Augahagah. I think I’ll write part 2 when all the adult celestials are released. Okay I think I’m going to go insane. 💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼

#msm #my singing monsters #broken titan au #msm broken titan #msm au #au #fanfic #fanfiction

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secretgaygenttomura · 4 months ago

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A Life Worth Living - Chapter 8

(A/N: If the change in tone is a little drastic, I apologize, haha- I would feel bad if I left this unfinished any longer)

Tomura awoke that morning in a cold sweat. Something was wrong in this house, more than usual, and he could feel it. A presence in it filled with malicious intent that a more naive version of him might think was a villain. But it was quiet, and day shone through the window. He could hear polite shuffles and talking from outside his room. No signs of hostility.

His sister seemed to have already gotten up, seeing the way her bed across the room was ruffled and empty. So his whole family must have already begun the day without him. At least that meant a nice sleep in… But now he had to face this terrible feeling in his chest as he got up and almost soundlessly stalked out of his room. What he saw peeking from around the corner paralyzed him.

He was right to dread his father’s absence last night. Talking with his family with a fake smile he could recognize anywhere, was his former Sensei, All For One. Mr. Goemon, as his family knew him. It’d never occurred to him before how involved All For One was in his family’s life before he came back here, but the effortless way his family addressed him, and the way he did the same in return told Tomura he’d been a familiar figure for much longer than he’d known, he didn’t even remember most of it. It made Tomura feel sick. Internally, he wondered if he could use that. Give the excuse that he was feeling sick so that he could stay in his room and not have to deal with that man, but… A morbid curiosity took him. And it was too late, anyways.

Very quickly, All For One took notice to Tomura’s appearance, meeting his eyes with the elder’s vacant, white stare. Having lived with the man for years in more ways than one, Tomura knew the different ways he’d show the few emotions he let himself emote. It was unsettling, but familiar, the way All For One took on a… genuine smile when he saw Tomura. It was one that Tomura usually saw when All For One was enacting some intricately tortuous plan, but even though he recognized the apparent threat his presence was, it just brought him back to bittersweet memories. All For One helping him back up to his feet after he’d failed time and time again. Maybe it was some kind of conditioning, some pavlovian response that told him whenever All For One smiled like that, that things were okay, but it made Tomura feel… Very oddly at ease.

“Tenko! Is that you? You’ve changed so much since I’ve last seen you!” All For One greeted. That was a major understatement, almost insulting, Tomura tried to convince himself to think. He needed to not give into All For One’s ruses.

Hana, who was sitting in front of his former Sensei on the couch, looked back at him and waved him over, “Finally! Come on over, sleepyhead! Mom and Grandma made breakfast already!”

Tomura stayed still for a little while longer, staring at All For One with a mixture of distrust and hope. But eventually he moved. Slowly, and cautiously, he made his way over to the table where he found a nice, full breakfast of fried fish, egg, and rice. It wasn’t his favorite, but it wasn’t bad either, full of protein. As that thought occurred, he recognized his inner voice shifting again, and pushed the thought away with a panicked shake of his head. Not only did he recognize the voice, but the way he took it into consideration. It must have been the fact that he was sitting barely 2 meters away from the man, making him take up every anxious thought in his mind. Tomura wouldn’t have thought about the nutrition he’d get from food without his input. That he was too frail, malnourished, would never make a proper vessel. And Tomura found himself staring blankly as the spreading golden pool of yolk over his fish, and found the imaginary taste of it souring in his mouth. Turning dull, gritty… dusty.

He made eye contact once again with the menace sitting in his house with the sadistic smile that haunted his frequent nightmares, “Mom… I don’t really feel like eating…” All For One’s eyebrows raised with curiosity.

His mother looked over, concerned, but the way Tenko was tensed, how his hand was trembling holding his chopsticks. She figured it just had to be a bad day, “That’s okay Tenko, just try to eat a little. It’s not healthy for you to skip meals.” His grandmother looked like she had something to say as well, but seemed too intimidated still to speak up louder than a whisper around Tenko, which frustrated Nao just as much as it did Mako.

Tomura did not like the way All For One looked at him, like he was about to make some smartass comment that would ruin his mom’s genuine intent, and broke the eye contact, just to look back at his food with a particular lump in his throat now. He decided to get it done with before All For One could utter a single word, stuffing his face with the breakfast he convinced himself he had the right to enjoy.

All For One seemed to be stunned silent, but as Tomura put down his chopsticks, he had yet another expression on his face. His eyebrows squinted with uncertainty, thinking about something, and of no good, he was sure. Tomura steeled himself, stared right back in that uncertain gaze as if he had something to prove, and he definitely did. Just not to this All For One’s knowledge, which he naively neglected to consider in his actions. The corners of All For One’s mouth twitched, barely noticeable, before returning to his previously placative demeanor.

Some shuffling in the kitchen started, paired with a worried, “Oh…” that undeniably came from his mother. And then, the shuffling only grew more intense. Nao was suddenly panicked. “Oh, I completely forgot Hana’s doctor appointment was today..! Where is… Oh gosh, it’s in ten minutes… Hana!”

The aforementioned sibling looked up, perplexed. Sharing a concerned look with Tomura, she whispered, “Huh? Appointment…?”

Tomura couldn’t muster back any response other than a lost shrug.

Nao stepped out of the kitchen, frantically looking through a bag. “Okay, wallet, keys… Do I have the patient cards…? No- Sh-...” She met eyes with All For One, who was also seemingly perplexed by the situation, yet… much calmer about it, as if he had all the time in the world. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Goemon, I- Usually Kotaro reminds me about these things, he’s much better with time. I hope it wouldn’t be a bother if you watched over Tenko and the house for a little while, would it?”

His expression hardly changing, but a subtle grin to both himself, and to put her at ease, took to his face, “Nao, I told you I was here to help, there’s no need to fret. I merely wish I could have reminded you myself, but I’m not all-knowing, am I?”

A dismissive laugh punctuated that statement, playing it off as a joke, but Tomura; trying to spot every tell to his ruse, could not help the feeling that was a lie… Something targeted specifically at him, if not.

Nao let out a sigh of relief, but little relief did she actually feel, “Oh, thank you- Don’t let Mako and Chizuo do any housework while I’m gone, okay? They really need to learn to take a break, and you know, things aren’t exactly the best right now… And-” She was interrupted by All For One already starting to usher Hana to her feet.

“Now, now, I do believe you two are going somewhere,” All For One’s crow’s feet crinkled slyly, in such a way, that Tomura almost couldn’t believe his family believed a word uttered out of his mouth. The demon ushered Hana to her feet, “Best to hurry, isn’t it? Go on, get your shoes on. There’s nothing you have to worry about here at home.”

Nao pursed her lips in an attempt to prevent herself from sputtering more instructions on her way to hurry out the door. She really wasn’t exaggerating when she said Kotaro was better with time. And quickly out the door she went, with Hana in tow. The lower frame of the door whistled against the floor and the hinges squeaked before it shut with a notable click. That was the only sound in the room, for a while, other than shuffling fabric, and the ticking of an analog clock hung up on the wall as the metaphorical elephants in the room avoided eachother with the same intensity one would a parasite.

Tomura maintained his composure as long as he could. It was just him and All For One, sitting in the silence of a home too afraid to speak to one, and just unfamiliar enough not to speak to the other. It almost became like a game, as the minutes ticked by. They both knew one had to speak up, but it would be a test of persistence, of resistance to curiosity, who would give in and speak up first. One who had literally already lived life once over, or one who seemingly had lived so many in just one? Red eyes met white, smile met frown, until Tomura couldn’t take it anymore.

“What do you want, s-sir?” Tomura droned coldly, yet weakly. Turns out that upon speaking, he discovered the test was not only of curiosity, but of courage. And Tomura was barely scraping by on the latter.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Pretend I’m not even here.” All For One responded with the elegance of a black swan. Perfectly calculated. He wanted the game to last a little longer, but Tomura no longer wanted to play, and refused to give him the satisfaction of winning any more than he already had.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do, old man?” Tomura turned fully towards the elder, trying to hold a certain contempt in his stare, but he could tell he was getting rusty. This fresh face, despite seeing horrors before, was not etched with the experiences of hatred as much as Tomura was used to. He had many creases, but not the ones practiced to furrow in the center of his brows with various negative expressions as time went on. He was telegraphing his insecurity, and he could tell by the look in All For One’s eyes as something sparked in them.

All For One leaned forward, propping his hand up to lean his chin onto, “You know, Tenko, I’ve been… A friend of this family for some time now, and I can’t help but notice, you’ve changed, haven’t you? Just a week ago, you were this bright-eyed child with hardly a care in the world, and now…?” His smile faltered, and Tomura could only describe the feeling of seeing it in the moment as chilling, “I can hardly believe the sentences you’re saying are coming from a five-year old. A poor imitation.”

Tomura flinched as All For One stood, imposing above the boy. All For One had already been tall, but his memory hadn’t retained the feeling of being so small in comparison. Tomura felt the adrenaline building, and pulsing in his ears. “The average human recalls very little from this point in their life, it would make sense if you didn’t remember how to speak the part… It’s obvious to anyone who even looks at you, that you’re not who you’re trying so desperately to be. So who are you, really, Tenko Shimura?”

Tomura’s heart was pounding with anxiety, but he tensed his grip, grounding himself with the feeling of his glove’s fabric bunching around his tiny, clenched hand. He felt almost shameful about his inability to hide himself any further. “... Who do you think I am?”

All For One paused, before his gaze, which previously scrutinized Tomura’s every movement, switched to be amused, “Oh don’t play those games with me. Come on, now.” All For One waited patiently, the clock once again ticking, barely filling the silence. Then his grin fell back into a frown. “You won’t tell me outright, will you?”

Tomura was tempted to not dignify that prompt with a response, but obliged with a small nod, more out of a want to get this over and done with.

All For One sighed, and crouched down, somewhat to Tomura’s level, stating matter-of-factly, “Your reactions to me are very… conscious, yes we’ll go with that. And your tendencies indicate you’re used to a life much more lively than this. Perhaps, on the run, even. A life of peril you have not witnessed here, exactly. So my guess is…” That smile was back again, and Tomura’s blood still boiled looking at it, “You’re someone who knows me, very well…”

“And what of it?” Tomura still couldn’t take the sound of this infantilizing voice he had seriously, contrasted so greatly by the voice he thought in, worn, and raspy. It made him feel even more vulnerable under that glowing white gaze. “What if I do know you as such? What does that make me to you?”

“It makes you a nuisance.” All For One said so plainly, it almost hurt in Tomura’s well-conditioned, and approval-seeking heart. But, one piece of the puzzle was yet to be revealed. All For One lowered his voice, “Whatever quirk you’re using to take over this child’s body, I suggest that you leave it be, before you witness something you regret. Maybe I’ll neglect to harm you or your loved ones once I find who you truly are. I already have plans with residency in Tenko’s body, and you’re taking up valuable property.”

He… Doesn’t know. He doesn’t know! Tomura had to hold in a sigh of relief, and a laugh at how horrendously off-mark All For One was. But on second thought, it occurred to him how disturbing it would be if he wasn’t in fact, some outside participant in their feud. Revealing his ulterior motive right to his face, that he was planning to take this child’s body as his own.. All For One had risked a lot, saying that in this house, even if his grandparents were away. Maybe, All For One really isn’t as infallible as he seems… But regardless, Tomura figured it would be safer if he just played the part he was already casted… He’d play as All For One’s villain.

Tomura raised his eyebrows, and put on his smile too-wide for anyone but his friends and family. “Am I now? Then a nuisance I shall remain.”

All For One had a brief expression of bewilderment on his face, to which Tomura once again had to hold back laughing at. He must have not been expecting a sudden show of confidence, or maybe even disregard for self well-being, but that bewilderment barely lasted a second before it turned to frustration. “For someone who knows who I am, the audacity you have to say that… You have a week’s time before I forcefully evict you, through any means necessary.”

“Do I now?” Tomura considered the possibility of sending his former sensei on a wild goose chase. Now, that was an opportunity he wasn’t willing to pass up. Looking through his memories, he recounted the various places he’d been. He’d lived in Kamino Ward, and here in Chitose, but that would be too close for comfort. For a month, he’d fought with Gigantomachia near Gunga Villa… That would do for now. “I’ve never seen you in Gung…” Tomura fabricated a false fear, covering his mouth with a sudden look up at All For One.

That smile that burned in Tomura’s mind returned, and he knew he succeeded. “Well then, that wraps up this, I believe?” All For One turned a glance to the ticking clock, opening his voice up a little, “What a pleasant chat, hardly even noticed how much time passed, your mother and sister are bound to return any minute now!” Even with the sweet taste of getting back on his Master, he still found this cheery mask he put on for his family unsettling, “Why don’t we be nice and make some lunch for everyone, shouldn’t we?”

“... Yes, we should.”

#my hero academia #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #all for one #fanfic #ao3 writer #a life worth living

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