#can you imagine what his reaction would’ve been if he was alive to see that?

[smtown-tourist]

Happy Birthday, our SHINiest angel 🩵

I hope that you can feel all the love that everybody still has for you, and I hope you enjoy getting to block out the sun for a while 🌙

[drakiandh]

Shifting Jewels - Chapter Two, Strawberry Trip

Another one. Imma update every Saturday in hopes that I can make these chapters without stress. I am in love so far, and am currently making their designs. Anyways, happy reading! Words - 4,265

Star’s gaze lingered on the fallen gem, its vibrant red hues now dulled by the golden corruption that had taken hold. His weapons returned to their places within his gem with the flick on his true hand. The air around him hung heavy with a mix of emotions, a complex tapestry woven from joy, grief, and fear.

Joy surfaced at the sight of Painite, an old companion he thought lost to the ravages of time. Grief welled within him, knowing that despite the years that had passed, Painite still harbored resentment and hatred. Fear, however, clutched at his core, an icy grip that tightened with the looming threat of the corruption that had claimed his friend.

Approaching cautiously, Star moved towards the gem as if the very act of proximity might trigger the other’s reform. He hesitated before gently nudging it with his foot, as though testing the waters. When no reaction followed, he reached down and cradled the corrupted gem in his hands, a sense of regret lingering in his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment. His finger traced the intricate cracks on the gem’s surface. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

Before Painite could attempt to reform, Star enveloped the gem in a sphere of deep navy blue, cradling it gently. He hesitated to send the other gem to the temple back in Beach City, opting instead to shrink down the bubble small enough to fit it into his pockets. Clutching the bubbled gem in his hands, he stood and walked over to the nearby pillar. Retrieving his jacket, Star concealed the gem under the fabric, beginning the journey back to the nearby human town. As he walked, he couldn’t bear the silence, so he decided to speak aloud.

“Things have gotten better, at least in my combat skills,” Star murmured into the open air, absentmindedly rubbing the bubble with his thumb. “When I last visited Rose, I could handle nearly three whole minutes in a fight with her. I wonder how she is; it’s been, what, a hundred years since I’ve visited?”

He was certain that if Painite could hear him, he’d be complaining about Star talking his ears off. Star weakly chuckled at the thought, the memory quickly tainted by their current relationship. “It wasn’t my fault,” he began, hopping down the stone path while keeping the gem within the bubble steady. “Well, it was, but could you blame me? I couldn’t bear the feeling of being just some slave to them. Blue was cold and rude to me, assigning me a purpose without even checking if I was functioning properly. Sure, I’m glad she didn’t, because if I wasn’t, she would’ve shattered me, but the thought would’ve been nice. Yellow was just an ass to me, telling me to ensure Pink would win the war. I’m not even going to mention White; she was terrifying. Pink was a lot better before, well, you know. She was the only one who treated me like someone alive, but even then, she was distant and only really interacted for war-related matters.” Star rambled.

“When Rose offered my freedom, she treated me like I was something alive, not just some tool to see into the future. How could you have stayed? Did you like being their slave? Being nothing more than what you were made to do?”

Star could already imagine the words Painite would say if he wasn’t poofed and bubbled in his hands. “My purpose is what I am made to do. Why should I fight it?”

“But what about after it?” Star responded to the whispers of the question. “After the war, would you be shattered? Poofed? If you were lucky, you’d be taken by Yellow and sent to fight there. But is there really nothing for you other than just claiming worlds filled with life to make more repressed gems? Earth is a free world, Painite. It’s not too late to renounce your allegiance to the Diamonds. I doubt they would even take you back if you somehow get to Homeworld again. They’ve probably already made thousands of Painites on some claimed world of theirs, and maybe they’ve already created thousands of Star Sapphires too. So what’s the point when they’ve already got copies of us?”

They arrived in town before Star could continue, prompting the blue gem to sigh and tuck the blue bubble safely into his pocket. After ensuring the bubble wouldn’t pop when he moved, he shook his still-blue hands back into their false brown color and began his trek toward the nearest warp pad, conveniently located on the other side of the human town.

“Hey, Star!” The Sapphire turned his head toward the human who walked up to him, smiling nervously. He recognized this person as the one who had encountered him in the forest.

“Hey, Carl,” Star greeted, faking a warm smile. He chuckled, clearly nervous.

“I heard a big bang earlier; did you find that big beast and take care of it?” The human asked. Star’s hand drifted down to the bubble hidden in his pocket.

“Yep!” he responded, popping the ‘p’. “You won’t have to worry about it now.”

“Thank god,” the human sighed before offering a genuine smile. “Want to stay over for a while? I know a good hotel-”

“No, thank you, though.” Star cut the human off, still smiling. “I’ve got to get back home.”

“You sure?” The human asked.

“Sure,” Star nodded. The human watched him for a moment before shrugging.

“Your loss.”

Star walked off before the human could say more, his smile falling when the human was out of sight. The Sapphire pulled his hood up to cover his expression, walking as casually and as fast as he could. He’d been to this town many times before, unintentionally earning himself a friendly traveler reputation. And true to his nature, he strived for everything to be pleasant around him.

He smiled and waved at each human that greeted him, engaging in brief conversations with those who asked him questions, and graciously accepting any small gifts offered. By the time he arrived at the edge of the village, the sun was dipping down the horizon, and Star felt the weight of exhaustion settling in.

“Alright,” he muttered, more to the gem in his pocket than to himself. “The warp pad should just be down this road.” The shadows of the night devoured the last remnants of sunlight, and hidden pockets of light illuminated his path. His own gem began to glow with its blue hue, casting a gentle radiance that helped him navigate through the darkness. Intrigued, he took out Painite’s gem, holding it in his hand to see if it, too, would glow. Surprisingly, it did, but the light was subdued and took on a purple hue due to the blue bubble encasing it. Star wondered how Painite’s true red color would look in the dark, but he dismissed the thought, assuming it would be dull and muted, much like Painite’s current appearance. Star pondered what might have happened to his once-vibrant friend for his colors to fade into a pale pink. Was it the corruption? It seemed unlikely, as most of the Corrupted gems he encountered retained the vibrant colors of their original forms. So, what had happened to change Painite’s appearance?

The warp pad glowed subtly in the surroundings, concealed yet unmistakable. Star felt a tired smile spread across his face as he stepped onto it, clutching Painite’s gem close to his chest to ensure it wouldn’t slip from his grasp in the beam. The white light enveloped him, a low hum filling the air as he traversed to his home. The journey took only a few moments, and as the light dissipated upon arrival, he stepped off the pad and took a deep, unnecessary breath. His home, Mask Island, was saturated with the sweet scents of nature and pure water. Though he didn’t require air, he appreciated the olfactory experiences it offered. His smile grew a bit as he strolled down the familiar path he had tread countless times.

His eyes lifted to the split mountain in the center of the island, a frown creasing his features as he recalled the event that had caused it to crack open. He was grateful that Rose, Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst had managed to thwart the Cluster, just as he had foreseen many years ago. When he first glimpsed that timeline, concern had gripped him about Rose’s fate, fearing that it might be altered, as if she wasn’t truly there. Yet, as the world beneath his feet still flourished under the first rays of the sun, he found ease, finding he had nothing to worry about.

His home, aside from being part of Mask Island itself, consisted of a simple cave within the mountain that had remained unscathed. While it lacked the embellishments he had envisioned, its dull grey walls still emitted the comforting yellow bioluminescence. It wasn’t filled to the brim with decorations, but it was home—his home. However, he knew there was one more task to accomplish before he could retire for the night. Stepping to the center of the cave, he summoned his shadows, drawing them from his gem’s light to form a large, protective dome. Placing Painite’s gem at the dome’s center, he stepped outside, ensuring Painite wouldn’t escape. Using one of his shadow hands, he punctured the blue bubble, and Painite’s gem fell to the ground.

Star stared at the freed gem, nerves coiling in his chest as he waited. He recalled that Painite had only poofed once before during the many years they’d known each other, and it had taken a considerable amount of time for him to reform. Star wondered how long it would take now that he was corrupted.

As it turned out, not very long. Painite’s gem began to glow in its vibrant red hue, illuminating the cave as his form emerged. Star winced as it shivered and glitched from the crack, but Painite reformed with a gasp. The red gem fell to his knees, frantically surveying his surroundings, eyes wide with shock. Upon spotting Star, an animalistic hiss escaped from his mouth, and he instinctively retreated as far as he could. Star winced, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender to try and calm the other gem down.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Star said softly, slowly, keeping a careful eye on Painite. The red gem continued to stare back, his mind not fully present, as he emitted a low growl. Star took a few steps back, recognizing it as a warning growl from past experiences. He patiently waited as Painite gradually regained his composure. After a few minutes, Painite blinked and slowly looked around.

“…Where am I?” Painite asked, his gaze returning to Star. The Sapphire didn’t respond immediately, lowering his hands and allowing Painite to stand, leaning on the dark navy of his containment.

“You’re on Mask Island,” Star explained gently, enunciating carefully to ensure his words reached the red gem. “You’re in my home.” To his surprise, Painite emitted a sharp laugh.

“I’m in your home? This hardly looks like a temple,” Painite remarked, his voice trembling slightly from exhaustion. Star frowned, torn between leaving Painite to rest and pressing for the information he sought.

“How did you survive the Diamonds’ blast?” he inquired, stepping forward until he was a foot away from the dome. Painite glared at him, his teeth clenched and bared in an obvious threat, but he appeared too weary to do more. In fact, it seemed Painite knew he was too fatigued to fight, so he opted to provide an answer instead.

“I hid in Earth’s crust,” Painite replied simply.

“But how?” Star pressed, unsatisfied with the brevity of the explanation. His insistence drew a hiss from Painite.

“The Cluster didn’t get corrupted,” Painite explained slowly. “It was too deep for that. I thought if I got deep enough, I would be safe.” He paused, shifting his weight slightly. “I was not fast enough.”

That was all Star needed to hear. “Okay,” he breathed, nodding to himself. His eyes snapped to Painite’s leg as it glitched, forcing the red gem down with a shout. Star responded by shouting the other’s name and bringing a hand to his gem, summoning the old healing liquid from the depths of his memories. Luckily, the glitching on Painite’s form faded quickly, leaving the red gem on the ground. “Pain,” Star called, waiting until the other’s single eye stared at him. He lifted the liquid floating in his hand, holding it out in an offering. “I can heal your gem if-”

“No!” Painite hissed, wincing as he got to his feet again. Star recoiled as if he’d been hit, surprise evident on his features.

“No?” Star repeated, confused. “What do you mean no?”

“I will heal my own gem,” Painite responded, leaning heavily on the wall of the dome. “I do not need your help to do so.”

“Dude,” Star said incredulously. “Your gem is cracked, a good hit and it would shatter.”

“Then so be it,” Painite responded, finally gaining enough strength to only leave a hand on the wall in case he fell again. “But I will heal on my own.” Star stared at him, mouth slightly open in confusion.

“Wait? You don’t mind being shattered?” He asked, watching as Painite slowly began to walk closer, using the wall to guide him.

“No,” Painite responded simply. Star waited for something else, an explanation, a reason, anything, but all he got was silence. So instead he prodded. “Why?”

“Why?” Painite repeated, stepping closer. “Why not?”

“Why not? Because if you get shattered, you’d die,” Star said. “You want to die?”

“I don’t mind dying,” Painite responded, his arm slowly lifting in a gesture Star recognized well.

“Well, you should,” Star responded, keeping his eyes on Painite’s face. “You shouldn’t mind dying. There’s so much to live for on this planet.” That got a laugh from the other, short and fake.

“There is nothing on this planet worth living for, other than it being a good gem-producer planet,” Painite responded. “Besides, it has a new purpose. Soon the cluster should emerge; I felt those quakes.”

“The cluster has already been calmed,” Star said, causing Painite to pause. “I saw it 5321 years and two weeks ago. The cluster has been subdued, and I don’t see it returning anytime soon.” Star didn’t flinch as Painite’s arm thrust forward in a pathetic attempt to hurt the other. He did flinch when Painite’s arm pushed against the dome before recoiling with much more force than necessary, forcing the gem back and knocking him off balance.

Painite landed on his back, and a horrified gasp escaped Star as he heard the tell-tell sounds of a gem cracking. Painite’s form erupted into glitches, lasting much longer than the one before. When it settled down enough for Painite to reform fully, the red gem rolled onto his side and laid there. Star saw a few small yellow shards fall to the floor, bringing a kind of dread Star hadn’t felt since the Diamonds decided to corrupt the rebellion.

“Painite! Your gem!” He said, dissipating the dome and rushing forward. He knelt by the other, earning himself a weak hiss. He held out his hand with the healing water, his hand shaking slightly. “Please, please, please just let me heal you.” He begged, hating how the Diamonds had made him. To never give, to never act without being asked first. He hated how he was made to just be a future seeing and better pearl.

“…Only the Diamonds… can heal a gem…” Painite said weakly, glaring at Star.

“Come on dude, all you have to say is yes! You know how I was made, you know!” Star begged, tears beginning to pool in his eyes as fear caused him to shake. Painite simply stared, his expression softening from the hardness Star was so unused to. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving Painite to turn away.

“No.” He hissed.

“What is your problem?!” Star yelled, dropping the water and allowing it to fall to the ground as he stood up. He was tired of his friend’s attitude, hating the stubborn nature he had once loved. “Why won’t you let me heal you?!” Painite didn’t respond, only laying still as he looked away. Star groaned, burying his hands into his hair as he fought the urge to go destroy something.

“Fine!” He finally yelled. “Be that way! I’ll be back in the morning, and when I do, I better get an explanation as to why you’re being such a stubborn and stupid ass!” He reerected the dome with a grunt and turned on his heel, storming out in the open night. He left for the warp pad, knowing exactly where to go to vent his frustrations.

╭──────────.★..─╮

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

When Star returned to Mask Island the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to find his cave empty. Instead, he stood there, gazing at the tiny yellow shards scattered on the ground. A heavy sigh escaped from Star’s lips as he stepped off the wall he had leaned on, embarking on the paths he had etched into the earth. He wandered aimlessly, not actively seeking Painite, already resigned to the likelihood of not encountering the other gem for another millennium or so. The idea of visiting Rose crossed his mind—it had indeed been a substantial span of time.

With that contemplation, he altered his course toward the island’s warp pad. As he strolled, he observed the quaint watermelon creatures that now populated the island. Star had even picked up a smattering of their language, learning from them that his vision of the Malachite fusion had indeed come to fruition. The thought was disheartening, but he found solace in knowing that the remaining Crystal Gems had managed to handle the situation in his absence.

A sudden voice interrupted his musings, prompting him to shake off the inquisitive watermelon beings who had tagged along. Swiftly and quietly, he dashed towards the voice, halting in astonishment when he beheld Painite, forcefully pressing his corrupted foot onto the warp pad. Painite’s countenance twisted into a snarl, and it seemed as though he was barely restraining himself from summoning his weapon and assaulting the pad. “Why won’t you work?!” Painite bellowed in frustration.

Star hesitated, well aware of Painite’s propensity for coldness and hostility. Despite the lingering anger that urged him to confront Painite, his concern for his former companion took precedence. “Painite?” he called out tentatively, taking a cautious step forward. Painite’s head snapped towards him with a sickening crack, and for a fleeting moment, Painite softened slightly with surprise. Yet, that softness vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a snarl as the red gem bared his teeth.

“What do you want?” Painite hissed, his attention fixated on activating the warp. Star assumed Painite regarded him as either too insignificant a threat or had already accepted his fate.

“I was just going to visit someplace,” Star said, maintaining a distance. Painite continued to glare, and Star respected his space. “Is something wrong?”

“You,” Painite hissed bitterly. “You’re the problem. If it wasn’t for you cracking my gem further, I would be able to leave this diamond-forsaken planet.” Star sighed, nodding apologetically.

“I am sorry for that,” Star said earnestly. “I can heal you if you want.” He flinched as Painite’s glare intensified.

Painite scoffed, and his expression hardened. “You think I’d trust you after what you did? I don’t need your help. I will find that damn fountain of yours and heal myself.”

Star paused. “Wait, fountain?”

Painite sighed. “Yes, the rumor of some healing fountain the rebellion used to heal gems. If it exists, I intend to find it.”

“Oh, it does,” Star said, earning a slightly less angry, confused look from Painite. “I helped make it.” Painite stared at him for a long moment, causing Star to fidget slightly under the gaze. Suddenly, Painite seized Star’s coat, pulling them close enough that their noses nearly touched. Due to Painite being on the warp pad, Star found himself shorter than the other, causing his face to redden from the unexpected proximity.

“Take me to the fountain,” Painite commanded, utilizing the authoritative tone Star had missed. The closeness and the rough voice almost next to his ear made Star melt momentarily, surrendering himself to the unexpected intensity. A good shake, however, brought him back to his senses, and he straightened up.

“R-Right! Sure!” Star stammered out, offering a crooked grin. Painite scoffed and released the Sapphire. Star yelped as he fell, his legs too jelly-like to hold him up. He groaned as he hit the ground, laying there for a moment before sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.

“You’ve been around too many humans,” Painite stated. “You’re acting like one.” Star laughed sheepishly before standing and hopping onto the warp pad, determined to push aside the warmth of the other’s breath on his face. Now was not the time to dwell on past connections.

“To the garden!” Star declared, waiting for the white light of the warp pad to envelop them. Nervousness crept over Star as the warp pad failed to illuminate, and Painite shot him a pointed look.

“Well?” Star flinched, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The warp pad to the garden must’ve been damaged,” he admitted, laughing nervously in an attempt to defuse the growing tension beside him.

“What?” Painite demanded. Panicking, Star scrambled to find a solution.

“I can take you to the next closest warp pad!” he suggested hurriedly. “A-And I can take you there directly!”

Painite seemed to ponder the option, studying Star intensely. Just as Star was about to propose another alternative, Painite spoke, his tone gruff, “Fine.”

“Wait, really?” Star asked, taken aback.

“Do not act like an idiot, Sapphire,” Painite hissed. “Just take me to the fountain, and I will let you live until I can repair the homeworld warp.” Star furrowed his brow but nodded nonetheless. With a simple thought, the warp pad activated, transporting them to the next nearest warp. The short journey was enveloped in silence, with only the subtle hum of the light surrounding them. Star considered offering an apology, as he had done millennia ago, but he hesitated, turning his gaze away.

The light subsided, revealing a sprawling field of strawberries and butterflies drifting gently on the breeze. Painite inhaled sharply, prompting Star to steal a glance at his reaction. The corrupted gem appeared lost, gazing over the field with an expression Star couldn’t quite decipher. After a moment, Painite blinked and stepped off the pad, unintentionally crushing a strawberry in the process. He then turned toward Star with a pointed look, his expression now devoid of the earlier confusion. Star nodded and hopped off, following an invisible path. Yet, curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t resist the allure of conversation.

“Sooo….” Star began, glancing at Painite from the corner of his eye. “Did you ever fight here?” Painite remained silent, and Star assumed he wouldn’t respond.

“Yes,” Painite finally replied, prompting a surprised “huh?” from Star.

“Wait, really? That’s cool! What was it like?” Star inquired, turning around and walking backward to face his travel companion. Painite frowned and swatted away a curious butterfly.

“Were you not there? You should have seen it for our Diamond,” Painite retorted, earning a wince from Star.

“Well, I had foreseen it. I told Pink that the battle would be horrible, but that there were going to be multiple. There were so many that I don’t exactly remember the details,” Star responded.

“Speak her name with respect,” Painite hissed before continuing. “This place is where the rebellion turned the tide of the war. And I was there from the beginning.”

“Really?” Star asked. “What was the biggest one? I remember you were a commander then.” Painite frowned, but Star knew just how to encourage him to share war stories.

Star could see the internal struggle on Painite’s face, but eventually, he sighed and began recounting the tales, much to Star’s delight. “The most significant battle I led was the one that changed the tide. It was destructive, and in the first half, we were winning.” A slight smile appeared on Painite’s face, lost in reminiscence. “We nearly shattered half of the rebellion forces with barely a scratch on our own. I could easily see their attempts and their paths, making it easy to thwart their plans.”

However, his smile quickly faded into a solemn expression, and Star noticed Painite absentmindedly rubbing his gem. “I became too confident, too cocky, and I paid the price. A single gem’s strike took out the leader of our forces, and the battle shifted in their favor. With my crack, I couldn’t fight on the front lines or guide my forces, and that’s the only reason you won.”

As the atmosphere turned somber, Star chimed in with a meek “Oh.” After a brief pause, he ventured, “I remember that day. I’m sorry.”

“Your apologies will not change the past, Star,” Painite responded, saying the name with a surprising absence of hatred, momentarily catching Star off guard. However, the resurgence of resentment was swift, and Painite’s gaze transformed into a piercing glare. “Now, how long will this ‘trip’ take?”

“Oh, just a little over a month.”

“What?!”

[rustyvanburace]

Analysis on SMTIV’s Issachar

I wrote up a long analysis on Issachar from Shin Megami Tensei IV, covering his aspirations for wanting to become a Samurai, his myriad struggles, and even a bit of how he’d compare with Walter.

Spoiler warnings for the beginning of SMT IV up to Kiccigiorgi Forest. This is all my own interpretation, of course!

-----

My personal belief is that if Issachar did become a Samurai, I don’t actually see him as becoming "Another Walter". In some ways I actually even think that Walter would clash with him somewhat. And I say this in respect to Issachar's own beliefs and ambitions. As a Samurai, I can see Issachar clinging onto his new role with overwhelming pride and maybe even turning a blind eye of denial to the discrimination within. I can imagine him turn excessively determined to prove himself and even more so in defiance of his growing disillusion. And maybe that would still culminate in him losing himself and becoming vulnerable to demonic influence all the same.

For both good and bad, Issachar has raw emotion. And it's those same emotions that kept both his ambition alive against impossible odds, as well as what ultimately consumed him. Issachar isn't just at odds with the Luxurors' stifling oppression, though that is a large part of it, but also what he idealizes the Samurai to be and his complicated relationships.

So let's analyze Issachar's reason to become a Samurai. At quick glance, it is a means to escape his Casualry status and become a Luxuror. And that is true and something he expresses, but that also doesn't cover all his values nor his complicated anger at his rejection. What’s important is to first consider the value he holds the Samurai to and their perceived role in society.

If you go to the Obelisk before taking the Rite, Issachar comments on each section. And there's a comment there that really stands out. In retelling the founding of the Samurai, the epigraph relates Aquila's heroic deeds and ends by describing today's Samurai as the "cornerstone of our defenses". And it's right afterwards that Issachar starts to daydream in that role. "When I am made a Samurai, then I, too, shall be..."

Issachar doesn't state it outright, but given what the epigraph just described, I take this to mean that he values the Samurai as heroes of justice. Maybe even reveres Aquila. And this reverence would've come to him at an early, impressionable age, when he and Flynn had first gone to the castle on an errand as children and vowed then to become Samurai. Seeing as Issachar is a Casualry from a remote village, I can see him believing the Samurai to be noble heroes who equally come to everyone's aid. This belief would certainly give a lot of hope to a young Casualry and something to aspire to be, especially for one struggling with his own village's expectations.

During the Kiccigiorgi mission, there are a pair of NPCs who are implied to be Issachar's parents (or at least close acquaintances). Yet instead of expressing concern for their son's safety during a crisis, they speak of his absence with contempt -- in sharp contrast to their lauding of Flynn's bravery. Mind, they haven't seen Issachar at all since he left for the Rite. They have no knowledge that he led the Sabbath and embraced the demonic. Their assumption and source of ire is that he has cowardly run off. Maybe even abandoned his duties before all of this even happened. While Flynn is busting his ass to save everyone, where the hell is that lousy Issachar?

If that's their reception towards him during a major crisis, then I don't think they were supportive of his ambitions and efforts either. They may have seen his training as goofing-off from work. Casualries becoming Samurai are almost unheard of, so why waste all his time doing that? It's a fact that a lot of Casualry NPCs early on have simply accepted their lot in life and it's this conformance that creates a divide between the elders and youths. The elders have no interest in the Sabbaths. There are Casualry elders who give God their thanks for their role, who let the Luxurors think for them, and who are too concerned with work than bigger issues.

All that, of course, is rooted with the Luxurors for creating a controlled, oppressive society. Nonetheless, to a Casualry youth who may not have realized that yet and wants more out of life yet is shown no support by their own peers, that is incredibly frustrating. The exchange from Issachar's implied parents is very short, but it paints the picture that Issachar was among those struggling with his own peers on top of the Luxurors. Maybe even at odds with his village at large. And I believe that to be one aspect that encouraged his aspiration to become a heroic Samurai. So that he could bring hope to his village and become someone they could look up to instead of down upon.

At the Gauntlet Ritie, Issachar reassures himself by repeatedly saying "I will become a Samurai... I'm definitely going to be a Samurai...  A Samurai and Luxuror at that..." He chants becoming a Samurai three times and a Luxuror last. It's not that he doesn't want to escape his trade, but that he holds greater value in becoming a Samurai first and what that role signifies. Conversely, there is a NPC during the Rite who, having just been rejected, waves off the whole thing as a dog and pony show. And this is a crucial exchange as it directly counters the heavy significance that Issachar is placing in the Rite. What that NPC is saying is that the Rite and by extension the Samurai aren't actually as grandeur as the early narrative is suggesting.

Then, to be rejected and shortly afterwards discover books that open to new ways of thinking, it's likely that Issachar would've been confronted by the reality that the Samurai are not actually defenders of the people but soldiers who enforce the Luxurors' rule. And if he truly believed the Samurai to be just, noble heroes and aspired to become that, then this revelation would've been a painful one.

So Issachar is struggling with society, his unsupportive family/community, and his beliefs shattered. But there is also a fourth thing going on: his complicated relationship with Flynn. It needs to be said that Issachar, even before being rejected, is not without flaw. He didn't actually have confidence in Flynn’s success despite together vowing to become Samurai. While at the same time that Issachar is reassuring himself, he doesn't extend that same hope to Flynn. He never mentions "we will become Samurai" but consistently "I". He states this could be farewell and thus indirectly hints that Flynn would be the one leaving. And instead of feeling proud that his best friend and fellow Kiccigiorgi Casualry was chosen, his reaction is of appalled shock.

And this all culminates at Kiccigiorgi Forest. Issachar isn't happy to see Flynn to the rescue and responds back sarcastically. He tells him his revelations, but only "I'm telling you this because you're you." He is treating Flynn as stupid, incompetent, and undeserving of becoming a Samurai. At most Flynn is now just another Luxuror dog upholding authority, in contrast to the survivors who laud Flynn's arrival or knew him positively. It's very possible that Issachar is also jealous of that, especially if he was like an older brother to Flynn and helped him out with most things. Like baiting hooks.

I imagine, following his rejection, Issachar must've felt abandoned by Flynn and his future stolen by him. Now Flynn gets to be that heroic Samurai that everyone can look up to. Worse, he may even betray his Casualry roots and forget all about Kiccigiorgi. Issachar essentially expresses that belief during his battle depending on how Flynn responds and it's why he reacts with surprised torment and regret for his actions if Flynn affirms that he is still a Casualry.

Now of course, none of this is actually Flynn's fault nor his intention. Issachar is running on high emotion. Regardless of the Rite though, it still doesn't change the fact that Issachar initially doubted Flynn. Issachar has a selfish side, and that's a good thing actually, as that gives him more nuance and his reaction is honestly a natural one. But he also comes around to overcoming that jealousy at the end and, in his final words, pleads that Flynn becomes that "magnificent Samurai" that he dreamed the Samurai to be.

So having gone through all that -- the oppression, the shattered moral value he placed in the Samurai, his lack of community support and pressure to prove himself, and his future seemingly stolen by his best friend and then abandoned -- it's infuriating. It's soul crushing. Where do you go from there when you have placed your entire worth into one moment that has never guaranteed you a future? Back to the village, alone, that's already disappointed in you? It's little wonder then why he became easy prey to the Black Samurai looking to stoke that anger and why he'd throw everything away. And it's because of those complex emotions and beliefs that I believe Issachar would struggle even as a Samurai.

I believe Issachar's idealization is where he and Walter differ greatly. Walter doesn't revere the Samurai nor does he place his entire worth in being one or upholding their image. He doesn't adopt a heroic or Luxuror identity. Walter also wanted to escape his family trade, but the way he treats the Samurai is much less of a life's goal and more as a pleasantly surprising turn of events. If he were denied, he would've likely sought his own way of escape. I earnestly don't believe that Walter actually aspired or even hoped to become a Samurai. Walter also runs high emotions, but he is still able to reign those in. He is able to hone his anger into a strength as opposed to a vulnerability. And he tends to be a lot more realistic or grounded.

And it's those differences where I think that the idealistic Issachar and realistic Walter would honestly clash. Maybe not necessarily as a heated argument (at least not right away), but as an annoyed or awkward discomfort. In some ways, Issachar actually has more in common with Jonathan insofar as their views of the Samurai.

Now obviously, who knows what would've happened if Issachar did become a Samurai. I do think he would at least be able to cope much better, having finally made it. But I also still believe that his idealized view of the Samurai would begin to crack while still clinging onto those same values. Maybe he would still fall to demonic influence out of despair. Maybe become a resigned, insipid shell of himself. Maybe emboldened to become that noble hero at all costs. Maybe his jealousy of Flynn would even carry on with him. Who really knows? 

But if he did become a Samurai, I cannot see him as "Another Walter" nor would I want him to be.

[unohanabbygirl]

Could give us a what if scenario if Luke had returned to Dragonstone in HIPS? As sad as it is, I think what Aemond did to him would have worked in the blacks favor and hastened their victory. Obviously Luke is right to think that what happened to him would be spun in such a way to shame his family and more specifically his mother, but also I think more specifically the common folk and lords on the fence would have rebelled faster against the greens. We all know that if Daemon learned Borros’ part in what happened, he would have no doubt forced a confession out of his court. The greens have only been successful in covering it up because the blacks don’t realize they have anything to uncover. Not to mention Daeron abandoning the greens early on since he played such an important role in the war would have lead to many victories for Rhaenyra

First off, sorry it took so long for me to answer you babes. I needed to think about this one for a good moment!

There’s two ways I like to imagine a scenario where Luke returns to Dragonstone. One being that the men who originally brought him to Omen stumbled upon him sooner and recognized that Luke was in fact the prince Lucerys who’d been missing for three days. Perhaps at such a time even Arrax would’ve still been alive. Doing his best to protect Luke despite being so weak, so the chances that both of them surviving this encounter are higher seeing as Arrax died due a bad infection after his wing was torn off mixed with severe dehydration.

Another way this could go is that Luke was found and still taken to Omen yet decided to return to his family once he woke up from his medicine/stress induced coma. Likely taking Omen with him just so the man could confirm his injuries to the black council and receive compensation as Luke feels its the least he could do. However for the sake of our baby Arrax surviving I’m going to go with the first scenario

In this version of events Luke is rushed back in the arms of two men; he’s bloody, covered in dirt and would be exposed if it weren’t for the coat one of the men wrapped him in. When they actually make it to Dragonstone news spreads immediately as they’re carrying around an injured boy who smells just like their prince but so much sweeter. By the time they actually make it to the castle there’s a group of gaurds waiting for them. The men make it clear that they only just found Luke in this state and thought it would be best to help him return home while making sure to let them know that the prince’s dragon is still out in the forest around shipbreaker bay and very sickly.

Rhaenyra, Daemon, Corlys and Rhaenys are called immediately as the gaurds take Luke as well as place the men into their custody for questioning despite the fact that they can all very well smell the alpha’s aren’t the ones who’ve assaulted the prince. Their scents as a whole are extremely dulled as well thanks to herbs that suppress their base instinct’s courtesy of Omen.

It’s safe to say that the first reactions are painful, it’s obvious what’s been done to Luke from the scent of heat and an alphas rut on him amongst other things. Rhaenyra can recognize the scent of her brother and see the blood running down Luke’s legs. She’s a mix of absolutely heartbroken and burning in rage, I’d say her anger would be enough to actually scare Luke into thinking she was mad at him had he actually been fully conscious. She won’t let anyone touch her son except for Maester’s, not even Daemon is exempt from her threats but it’s understandable considering she’s a territorial alpha minutes away from breaking down. She thinks of how her own mother talked about her grandmother. An omega just like her son. It’s hurtful at first, not because of what he is but because she knows how this will affect his future. Omegas are to be seen, not heard. She knows keeping his second gender a secret and even suppressing it with medicine to show him off as Beta would be the best option, but she also knows the truth has to come out so her brother and everyone who’s sided with the greens can be shown for who they are.

Daemon and Corlys begin planning immediately. An Omega raper is seen as scum of the earth in the eyes of all (especially small folk and lower ranking houses) so even though it disgusts them to use Luke in such a way, the abuse he’s been through is their killshot to the greens + getting him justice for what’s been done. No one in their right mind would side with the party that not only hurts omega’s, but tries to cover up the crime as they know for a fact the greens have to know what’s happened by now since word of the Baratheon’s forming a pact with them, as well as Aemond’s return to Kings Landing has come out in the past days. The greens already have so little support since the only great houses on their side are the Lannister’s and Baratheon’s, once they show what’s been done, everything will fall to the ground.

It takes a two days for every message to be sent out and by then everything is a mess. Word of Luke’s presentation and injuries (as well as likely pregnancy considering that Prime Alphas seed is strong and even moon tea wouldn’t have a high chance at stopping conception) They don’t have all the details as of yet since Luke is still out cold, but they do call out the Baratheon’s. Luke was in fact in their care as an envoy, something that can’t be denied since everyone knows of the betrothal agreement between them and the greens. Putting both Luke and Aemond in the same space as when Gerardys hypothesis he went into his first heat.

The small folk are rioting, thousands at the keeps gates demanding justice for the hurt omega and most, if not all house both great and minor have made their pledge to Rhaenyra known. Sending out word that the actions of Aemond are despicable and no one who could ever do such a thing or those that support them have their allegiance. House Lannister drops support for Aegon as well and decides to go Switzerland.

Not even those in Oldtown (Especially Daeron seeing as his brother is the one who committed the crime) could proudly stand with Aegon since they’re the main worshipers of the faith. Respecting the holy mother and omega is their identity and Aemond has soiled it. I could even see Otto’s nephew aka the current lord of house Hightower, bending the knee to Rhaenyra to not only save face but because part of him is truly disgusted.

The war is won before it could even begin and Luke has no idea of what he’ll wake up to or what he’ll be made to speak up about. It’s horrible but it’s what has to be done.

Rhaenys is having a bit of a panic herself. Coming to terms with the fact that her grandson’s been assaulted and that her own family would gladly hide the crime can change a person’s world view. She goes with Daemon to confront Borros because she needs to know that her own kin wouldn’t do something so unbecoming. Though we all know the sad truth.

Aegon wants to fight of course, after getting a taste of power he’s gone drunk with it. However, he has so little to fight with. They only have the Baratheon’s and a handful of small houses that still haven’t pulled support but likely will. Aemond is out cold from his injuries so Vhagar is out of commission. While Helaena is too busy holding the kids and thanking the gods because “they will live to see another day” Not that she would participate in any fighting to begin with.

It’s over for them and they know it. At best they come out and bend the knee in hopes of a simple exile, and at worst they try to hold over the keep and fight with the soldiers they have but there’s really no point. When they hear the familiar shriek of Syrax each and every one of them knows they’re done for.

[words-are-fireproof]

Year of Song: Mercy - Joel Miller

Summary: Joel makes a choice to atone for his sins.

Word Count: 1k

Content/warnings: canon typical violence, mention of the military, blood, angst, NOT ALL WARNINGS LISTED.

A/N: It's February and here is my @yearofcreation2023 entry from this month! This is completely unbetaed. Hope you enjoy. Thank you again to @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms for this! It's been great!

Story inspired by Mercy by Nathan Wagner. You can listen here.

[Masterlist] || [Series Masterlist] || Part One || Part Three

-----

Tell me how’d you up so numb

What kind of trauma would it take

To delight in someone's killing

Let your conscience be erased

The first time he killed a man, he wore the man’s blood on his uniform for over thirty-six hours, in the middle of the desert, the smell of copper and iron permanently etched into his nose.

Sometimes, when he stopped and tried to take a deep breath of fresh air, that smell almost knocked him off his feet. The decay of the world didn’t help now, either. That earthy mix of death and wet earth–petrichor, Sarah said once–sometimes made him gag. But he wasn’t sure if that knee jerk reaction came from the smell or from the memories of Sarah. Whatever it was, he tried not to breathe too deeply. Deep breaths only brought misery and an ache in his chest that he couldn’t shake. 

The death didn’t stop. The desert painted with the limbs of his brothers, torn apart by the roadside bombs that sought to inflict the most damage, emotional and physical. The bodies no longer looked like bodies. They were simply puzzle pieces that no one could ever stitch back together. Closed coffins awaited them on their return home. Now it was no different. The floral nightmare bloomed from the broken and decaying bodies, tethering them to the rest of the infected. The broken bodies were traps for the living. The dead weren’t buried anymore. They far outnumbered the living. 

At the beginning of the outbreak, he clubbed an old lady over the head with a wrench, the sickening crack of her skull reverberating in his mind. Moments later, he coldly instructed Tommy to run over another, two-thirds of longtime neighbors dead at his hands. He could still see the viscera dripping from the wrench, Sarah’s tears shining in the amber light as they slunk down her cheeks. He’d been in hell before, but a part of him began to die that night, made worse by the shot that took everything from him. 

Everything after that point had been in the service of keeping him and Tommy alive. Tommy had been almost worthless that first night, showing restraint when he shouldn’t, wanting to help other people, showing up late and standing there in the dewy grass with the rifle in his hand while his baby girl bled out into the dirt. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. From the ground they came and to the ground they’d return. 

He just wished it took him instead of her. Only he knew better. In the quiet nights in the forest, while he was on watch for the first shift while Tommy slept, he tried to imagine Sarah in this world. He tried to imagine her shooting creatures that still eerily looked like people. He tried to imagine her hands covered in blood like his and Tommy’s were, but he couldn’t. Sarah was just too innocent, too kind. If the infected hadn't gotten her, her open and trusting nature would have. He would’ve lost her no matter what. 

The thought didn’t make it any easier. 

Nothing was “easy” in the former sense of the word. But inhabiting that space where the monstrous became the norm was almost too easy. It felt too familiar, like it was a skin he slipped into when he no longer wanted to remember. 

The first time he doused himself with someone else’s blood and came staggering out onto the leaf covered, cracked pavement he almost forgot who he was. He didn’t recognize who he had become, like he was outside his body and looking in. He didn’t even flinch when he stuck the muzzle of his gun into the soft skin of the person’s chin, the gun sinking easily between the space of the jaw. He pulled the trigger without blinking. When he returned to the camp he and Tommy set up, he didn’t say a word. He just unloaded the supplies he’d collected and said he’d go again in the morning. 

He ignored the fear in Tommy’s wide brown eyes. 

The next morning, he returned to that road and repeated the process, coming back with more food, more water, and more bullets to refresh their depleted stash. 

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked quietly as Joel ate some of the food he’d recovered. 

“Protectin’ you,” he replied shortly, glancing at him cooly. 

“You think I need protectin’?” Joel didn’t answer. “I asked you a question, Joel. Do you think I need protectin’?” 

“I think you need somethin’. I don’t see you goin’ out there. If you’re not gonna step up, then I will.” 

“I don’t need your help.” 

“Then why are you here, Tommy?” 

He watched his brother struggle for words. 

“To save you from yourself.” 

Joel chuckled dryly. “I don’t need savin’.”

And he didn’t. Definitely not from Tommy, and he wasn’t planning on saving himself. The violence made it easy to ignore himself and the pain he carried on his tired shoulders. He could compartmentalize the need to survive. He could push it away and keep it far away from the part of him that wanted to–no needed to–die. He could inhabit this person who was no longer himself. 

The next morning, the blood drying on his clothes and his skin, he met the group that would become his family. They didn’t question his motives. They didn’t question why he chose violence, why he inhabited it so nicely. They just needed another person to be their muscle and they found it perfectly in Joel. He threw himself head first into the group, ignoring the way Tommy judged him with every single kill. He didn’t need him hovering around and questioning every choice he made. He made his bed and now he was going to lie in it. There was nothing Tommy could do to stop him. Every kill felt like atonement for Sarah’s death, and he was going to keep doing it until he felt he could atone no more. 

[darlingmurdock]

I was just daydreaming about batquinn kids, like can you imagine Harley and Bruce giving their children everything they lacked in their childhoods 😭 I just think they would make the most loving parents. And their kids would be the happiest, perkiest, smartest (and also a bit mischievous) babies ❤️

Do you think they would be blondes? I think Martha was blonde??? Yet Bruce has brown/black hair and so did Thomas. Definitely blue eyes since they all have blue eyes.

In my opinion it would be 100% different than what we’ve gotten of Bruce Wayne as a parent because this time he would be head over heels in love with the mother of his child and would’ve been there since day 1, morning sickness, pregnancy, cravings, birth, first words, steps, first day of preschool, everything 🥹

Also I remembered how badly I want a story where Bruce’s parents are alive, so they could see their kid in love and happy 😭

hi anonie !!!

please their kids would be so spoiled (just right amount) and loved so much! they would make the best parents and always be their kids number one supporters! i think with their kids the determination shifts into creating a safe and welcoming environment for them 😭💗

i think it would be perfect mix of blonde and black/brown hair but lowkey i think black/brown hair as maybe the wayne gene is stronger lol

i dont know why but bruce is definitely a softie for those he cares about! and i think maybe with harls even more as she might be scared of his reaction or something but he would reassure her that everything is okay and he will be with her for everything 😭💗💗

his parents seeing him become a good man and father will be everything oh my 🥹💓

[amnesia-collection]

AMNESIA Drama CD ~Meido no Kuni no Amnesia~ 3

3rd track out of 8

Translation by gardenofmelodies

Track 3 – Sleeping Beauty

Shin: Ukyo-san, are you okay?

Ukyo: Ah… Huh? What happened to me?

Shin: I don’t know very well too. Just now, you were about to have your head cut by the manager and I felt a dizziness… When I regained my conscience, I was here.

Ukyo: Here is… What is this? A castle… and a forest?

Shin: It seems a forest but… Actually, it’s just roses.

Ukyo: Roses? Maybe it’s the Queen’s garden?

Orion: You’re wrong, Ukyo. This is a different world from the earlier one.

Ukyo: Orion?!

Shin: Hm? Did something happen?

Ukyo: Ah, no, sorry, just talking to myself a bit. Are you saying we jumped to another world again?

Orion: Yes, that’s right. It would’ve be great if we gathered everyone in that world, but since that would be too hard, I decided to shift everyone or else your head would have been cut.

Ukyo: Well, that’s right. I would like to avoid that too.

Shin: This… Seems to be the Sleeping Beauty, probably.

Ukyo: Eh? Ah, yes, that may be so. But then, who imagined this one?

Shin: This is REALLY unpleasant, but I can guess who.

Ukyo: Eh? Who?

Shin: Toma, definitely. These damaging roses, doesn’t make it seem like a fortress? He is the only one who could put so many obstacles to other intruders. Then, I think he is with her in the castle.

Orion: Exactly. The evil wizard Toma is protecting her inside the castle.

Ukyo: Ah, this is the worst. Then, who is the prince? Don’t we need him to wake up the princess?

Orion: There was a prince, but it seems he gave up and retuned to his home, because of the guard of the castle being so strong. It seems the princess has been sleeping for 267 years already.

Ukyo: 267 years?!

Shin: Ah? What?

Ukyo: Ah, umm… I’ve just got the information that the princess has been sleeping for 267 years. Let’s ignore how I got this information, since it’s hard to explain. Then, Toma is protecting the princess.

Shin: “Got the information”… Well, whatever. Then, does it mean Toma has been watching her sleep face for 267 years?

Ukyo: He’s a bit too much devoted, right?

Shin: And it seems no one else in this world.

Ukyo: That’s what it seems…

Shin: Then it’s only us, huh.

Ukyo: A bit like a horror movie, right…

Shin: Anyway, they are inside the castle, right? Toma! If you’re there, show yourself!

Ukyo: No reaction. Well, since we don’t have other choice, let’s find a way to open a path through the rose garden and go in. Hm? Something got caught in my foot- WAAAH!

Shin: Ukyo-san?! What was that? An explosion?!

Ukyo: Ouch…! That was dangerous! If it wasn’t me, someone could have died!

Shin: How can you even stay alive after that?! “Click”?

Ukyo: Shin! Get off there!

Shin: …I-Iron ball! Since when this was a dungeon?!

Ukyo: Getting hit by that would break all of our bones! It’s impossible, we need to head back— A trap?!

Shin: Ukyo-san, are you okay?!

Ukyo: Ah…hah…hah… I’m okay. Somehow… The water stopped.. but.. Waah! This pitfall trap is full with landmines!

Shin: Bombs, landmines and an iron ball… Isn’t this world way too weird?!

Ukyo: This is way too much! The guard is way too strong… It’s obvious why the prince gave up! Aah, shit… What should we do?! We can’t reach the castle like this… Ah, I see, turn to the castle’s side and try to yell “Toma onii-chan!”.

Shin: Definitely no.

Ukyo: But Toma may return to his original self if you do that.

Shin: Even if I was about to die, no.

Ukyo: Even if it’s for her sake?

Shin: Hg…! That is…

Ukyo: I’ll close my ears, so I won’t hear it. If you don’t do that, neither we or her we’ll leave.

Shin: Huh…guh… aaah… Understood. But, please, really don’t hear it.

Ukyo: Of course, I’ll keep with my promise. Then, I’ll be counting on you.

Shin: Damn… Why I have to do this for her sake…? Toma… onii-chaaan!

Toma: ….Shin?

Ukyo: Ah, we got a reaction! You’re amazing, Shin!

Shin: I feel rather disgusted.

Ukyo: Toma! Can you hear our voices here? We came to bring you back! You’re not really from this world! Let’s go back to our original world!

Toma: Original…world…?

Ukyo: Yes! You want to return, right?! To your original self!

Toma: I don’t care about that.

Ukyo: Eh?

Shin: Hey, you…!

Toma: Right now, with just the two of us inside this castle, I’m pretty happy. That’s why I don’t care about my original self. There’s only one thing…

Shin: You can’t remember her name, huh?

Toma: Yes. How did you know?

Shin: There’s no way I couldn’t know when I’m in the same situation. Even though I can remember her perfectly well, the only thing I can’t remember is her name. And this is sticking in my throat. She is inside of the castle there, right? Then, leave with her and come here. Let’s come back to our original world and let’s take her name back.

Toma: I don’t want to leave here. I don’t know what can happen out here. I must protect her.

Shin: Your way of protecting her is way too wrong. Or rather, this is already too bothersome. If you don’t leave and come here, I’ll tell her everything about your high school ex-girlfriend

Toma: Wai- Shi-… H-How did you know that…?!

Orion: Oh, the castle’s doors are opening! Seems like Toma now wants to leave there.

Shin: He should just come out like this right from the start. Making me do unnecessary things…

Ukyo: Then, I’ll meet up with them. Since carrying her alone will be hard.

Shin: Wait, Ukyo-san, beside your foot…!

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

well i mean if you’re giving me the opportunity

ok so like. the thing about scott’s after life in empires is that the the whole thing is meant to be scott’s perfect happy ending, and in order to facilitate that, everyone involved is a Little Weird. xornoth doesn’t remember the events of the series. his parents are alive. jimmy is a perfect house husband. jimmy’s weirdness is compounded i think by the fact that unlike everyone else, his soul is still busy being alive and is definitely not here, whereas scott’s soul is definitely here, xornoth is probably here, and his parents might be? could be? that’s definitely not jimmy’s soul though.

but like. ok in the words of @pixlostinatos when i was running my thoughts by them: the jimmy we see in scott’s after life “is how scott can be happy. but he’s not the jimmy that scott is pretending to be happy with.”

because that’s just Not what jimmy was like. and ultimately had scott lived/had the world not ended/you get the idea, i don’t think fh would’ve worked out because both of them wanted the other person to be someone they’re not. both of them see in the other someone who isn’t there.

scott wants and has convinced himself that jimmy is this perfect domestic house husband, that jimmy would move to rivendell for him, that they would have an idealistic happy ending. jimmy wants scott to be a good ally, for scott to be nice to him all the time, for scott to never go beyond the “butt of the joke” level of joking that he gets from lizzie, pix, and joel (see: his reaction when fwhip traps his nether portal and scott takes fwhip’s side). they both want the other person to be something they’re not and never will be, and so, had everything not gone down the way it had, i don’t think they would’ve worked out. and it would’ve been fine! it probably would’ve been amicable! but instead we have scott living with the idealized version of jimmy that never existed and jimmy wandering the world entirely alone (and left to imagine what things could’ve been like if the world hadn’t ended. and left to reminisce and warp his memories of everyone into the way he thought about them rather than the way they were). i think about empires fh a lot they’re. they’re something.

sits down at the kitchen table with my head in my hands… long despairing sigh… The “home? home” scene. it takes place in Scott’s perfect afterlife, seeing as the world had been changed to reflect what Scott “always wanted it to look like” and whatnot. this is all well and good but have we considered this from Jimmy’s perspective. have we considered the implications of Jimmy being sent to an afterlife catered specifically to Scott

[ofstoriesandstardust]

the in between (pete “maverick” mitchell)

a/n: i will be caught dead before i write maverick x reader. but i will do anything to write about Maverick as a Dad. you can pry the same mistakes universe from my cold dead hands, idc idc

summary: moments from what happened between landing back on the aircraft carrier with Rooster alive to reconvening back at the Miramar base leading the Iron Daggers. Maverick learns that he’s missed out out a lot more of his daughter’s life then he would’ve liked

part of the same mistakes-verse

main masterlist | top gun: masterlist

warnings: i tailor the Navy to fit my fics not the other way around idc, food mentions, yes i do have a couch in my childhood bedroom what about it, i often imagine Rebel as like being a flamingo who would stick the head in their sand rather than deal with their feelings and problems, i don’t even know if this is good 

word count: 4,532

Maverick blinked awake, taking in the darkness of the room in the med bay, the barely noticeable shifting of the carrier bringing a small bit of comfort. A quick glance around the room showed him Phoenix was passed out in the chair next to Rooster’s bed, the man snoring softly. Bob’s lanky figure was laid out uncomfortably on the opposite of his bed. Fanboy and Payback were curled up into a bunch of chairs at the foot of the bed and he chuckled to himself. They must’ve all fell asleep at some point after he did. The moon shown through as he glanced over, catching Coyote looking at his phone from a chair at the foot of his bed. No (Y/N), he noted. Looking up from his phone, Coyote realized he was awake and quickly put the phone away. Coyote moved closer, very conscious of the sleeping figures of his team mates. “Hey Mav.” He whispered.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked. Here, with Coyote, he knew it was safe to use her real name. Coyote nodded his head to the door. 

“Tarmac.”

“It’s late, why is she out there?” Coyote shrugged. 

“Just thinking, I think. I’ll probably go join her later but, uhm...” Coyote hesitated and Maverick cocked his head curiously. “No, it’s not my place.”

“Coyote.” He said carefully, taking in his reaction. 

“Well, sir, it’s just that-”

“Coyote, forget for a moment that I’m your instructor. You’re my daughter’s best friend, it’s just you and me.” Coyote nodded, still very obviously nervous. 

“Sir, you really scared her today.” His heart sank, hated hearing Coyote confirm what he had already known. “Um, but-” Coyote swallowed, clearly trying to find words. “I’m also worried about your decision to select Rooster as your wingman is gonna do.” Maverick shook his head, uncertain by what the younger pilot meant. 

“Coyote, how long have you known my daughter now?” 

“Two years, sir.” 

“And how close are the two of you actually?” Coyote nodded slowly, thinking about it.

“We had an, uh, rocky start, but I’d give my life for her. She’s my best friend.”

“Then you know her well.”

“Yes sir, I’d say so, sir.”

“Then how would my decision to select Rooster as wingman affect her?” Coyote shifted uncomfortably, clearly weighing which route to take. Maverick felt his breath catch in his throat. His daughter had been through a lot. He also wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t see the world weigh on her, a certain familiar loneliness appearing in her eyes every time the two of them talked. Coyote finally sighed. 

“Sir, I don’t really know if it’s my place-”

“Coyote.” Coyote sighed. 

“All I feel I should say is that, well- you should be prepared for your relationship with your daughter to change.” A beat. “If not end entirely.” Maverick felt like his world was spinning as he took in the pilot’s words. “Sir, I don’t know what happened between you and Rooster or her and Rooster. But I do know that she carries the weight of everything on her shoulders and I don’t know if she’ll walk away from this one the same.” Coyote let out a deep breath. “I- I should go check on her.” He said, standing up slowly, glancing at the still restful figures of his teammates. 

“Coyote.” The man turned to look at Maverick and it was the first time Maverick had really seen Coyote. He had to admit that Coyote had not ever been one of his first choices for this mission, but his daughter cared for the man, that much was clear. He saw the friendship that existed between the two of him, reminding him of his own with Goose back in the day. He swallowed, pushing that thought away. 

“Sir?”

“Thank you for looking out for my daughter.” 

-

“Hangman, don’t wake them up.” Bob. 

“I don’t care about Pops or Rebel, but man, I wanna talk to Coyote.” Hangman. 

“I’m sleeping.” Coyote.

“Are not.” Hangman. 

“Would you shut up? You’re gonna wake them.” Rooster. 

“Lil’ princess looks so peaceful.” Payback.

“She won’t be if you don’t shut the fuck up.” His daughter. 

He slowly shifted, blinking awake for the second time. He took in the figures of the squadron crammed into their section of the med bay. His sight fell onto his daughter who was leaned on his bed, holding on to his hand. He tapped her hand with his finger and she looked up, rubbing her eyes. He nodded his head and scooted over. Without hesitation, his half-asleep daughter climbed up on to the bed and into the spot he had patted, almost as if she was 5 again. She all but collapsed into his chest, and he winced slightly. Emergency ejection had not been kind to his old body. He was really getting too old for this. She clutched on to his arm as if he might disappear if she didn’t and promptly fell back asleep. 

“Aw, this is so cute.” Phoenix commented from her post next to Rooster’s bed.

“Someone tell me they’re taking a picture of this for later use.” Hangman taunted and Coyote kicked his shin. Maverick looked over at Coyote who was clearly awake but had his head leaned up against the wall, eyes closed. 

“Coyote.” Maverick said and Coyote opened an eye. 

“How late were you up with her?” He shrugged and closed his eye.

“Like, dawn? I don’t know, the sun was up when we made our way back in here.” Maverick blinked. His daughter had spent the entire night on the tarmac of an aircraft carrier, awake, talking to her best friend. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad she had someone to sit with her or concerned she hadn’t gone to bed. 

“Where were the two of you last night?” Hangman asked and Coyote didn’t respond. “You know, sometimes I really doubt that the two of you are as platonic as you tell everyone you are.”

“Hangman, when you and your wingman almost die together, you’re kinda bonded for life dude.” Came Coyote’s response. 

“Wait, when did this happen?” Rooster asked. Maverick vaguely knew what incident he was referring to but it’d happened while he was still in Afghanistan before he’d gotten transferred to the Mojave Desert. He hadn’t been around for the aftermath, not nearly as much as Ice had. Coyote waved a hand, brushing Rooster off. 

“Long time ago. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Maverick?” Rooster asked curiously. He shrugged in response. The door opened and in walked Cyclone, Warlock not far behind him. 

“Admiral Simpson.” Bob said hurriedly, and those not sleeping (Coyote, Rebel) quickly stood up. Maverick and Rooster couldn’t, seeing as they were still bed-bound and Maverick had the problem of his daughter clutching to his arm. Cyclone took in the forms of a sleeping Coyote and Rebel clutched to her Dad and a hint of a smile appeared on his face. 

“At ease. I wanted to let you know about a few changes regarding your postings and debriefings schedule, but uh...” Cyclone concluded, looking at Rebel. Coyote at this point was awake and half-paying attention, if still slumped down in the chair. Maverick nudged Rebel. 

“Hey, wake up.”

“I’m awake.” Came the muffled reply and Maverick sighed. he looked over at the two and half-shrugged. Cyclone shook his head and turned back to the rest of the group. 

“Someone can fill her in later. I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be docking at 1700 hours. You’ll all have three weeks leave, starting tomorrow.” A collective murmur of excitment rippled through the group. “At the end of which, you’ll reconvene in Miramar for debriefings and then you’ll be joined together as an official squadron, the Iron Daggers, should you choose to accept the post. Captain Mitchell here will be your instructor, should he choose to accept the post.”

“He better.” Rebel stated and he glanced down at his daughter. “I’m still pissed off about him emergency ejecting from Mach 10.”

“He what?” Rooster asked and she shifted up, looking over at him. 

“You didn’t know that? Yeah, he emergency ejected and landed in the middle of nowhere in the desert. Right before we all got called back for the special detachment.”

“How do you know about that?” Maverick asked curiously. He had kept that from her on purpose, knowing she’d worry about him. 

“Ice told me. Because you fly like you don’t have anyone to come home for.” He flinched slightly at that comment.  She let go of his arm and shifted off the bed. He was little disappointed she elected to take a seat next to Coyote, but he figured he probably had a lot to answer for with how much he made her worry. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to give you all that update. Hopefully, I will see you all back in three weeks. Have a good rest of your day aviators.” Cyclone finished with a smile and exited the room with Warlock. Chatter picked up in the room as the team discussed their plans for leave and what had just happened. He assumed he’d spend the three weeks in the desert, Rebel in tow, and hopefully Rooster would join them. 

“How do the two of you do that?” Hangman exclaimed and Maverick looked over. Coyote and Rebel were looking at each other, clearly having a silent conversation. “You guys like, communicate telepathically.” 

Coyote finally groaned, stretching out and standing up. “We’re gonna go get food.” He said to no one in particular and his daughter followed suit and then disappeared out the door at the same time the medical staff reappeared to clear him and Rooster for discharge. Hangman was still looking around baffled. 

-

He wasn’t sure when the decision was made to come to his house for dinner but there everyone was, piling into his house. He laughed at them. “(Y/N), go give everyone the tour. I’m gonna order pizza.” She groaned, flopping down on the couch. 

“I’ll do it, I’ve been here before.” Coyote volunteered, laughing. 

“When have you been in my house?” He asked, turning to Coyote. He shrugged looking at (Y/N). 

“We got three days leave a few months after I got assigned to the Green Vipers. It wasn’t enough time for Coyote to go home and I figured it was silly to make Coyote get a hotel when he could stay here. He just likes to pretend that he doesn’t remember I’m from here, because he’s annoying.” She explained as Coyote laughed at her, dodging her foot that was trying to kick him off the couch. 

“C’mon, I’ll show y’all the house.” Coyote said and Maverick chuckled to himself as he went into he kitchen, ordering the pizza. He was slightly embarrassed about the amount they were ordering but knowing these kids, it’d be nothing. The group came back around as he came out into the living room. His daughter was still on the couch, feet dangling off as Coyote slid in easily next to her. 

“Who's Switch?” Fanboy asked. 

“Mine.” (Y/N) responded. “You think ol’ Mav over here knows how to work any gaming system from this century?” He scoffed at that, shaking his head. It was true, he didn’t understand how to work his daughter’s gaming console and didn’t totally understand why she’d bought it in the first place. He wasn’t going to tell her that though. “You wanna play?” Fanboy nodded and she sat up. “Okay, let me go get changed. “

“Hey, pizza should be here soon. I’m gonna go to the store and get drinks and stuff. Anybody want anything in particular?” He asked and there were a few requests he took. He watched out of the corner of his eye as (Y/N) grabbed her car keys off the hook in the kitchen and tossed them to him. 

“Don’t crash my car.” She warned and he laughed. 

“Hey Pops, do you think I could come with?” Hangman asked and he nodded. 

“I’ll go too!” Coyote volunteered. 

“Okay, here’s the money for the delivery guy.” He said, handing the money out of his wallet to his daughter, who promptly turned around and gave it to Bob, making it his problem. He rolled his eyes and turned to the two men who were joining him. “Alright, let’s go. We’ll be back soon.”

-

“You’re doing it again!” Hangman exclaimed and startled, Maverick looked over from Rooster to Coyote and Rebel. The squadron had been discussing their plans and flight details for their leave. The idea had been raised earlier in the night about spending the night at the Mitchell residence and apparently that had been the decision the team had made. They turned and Coyote and rebel turned towards them. “You’re doing the thing, where you talk to each other, without ever saying anything. It’s all... in your faces!” Hangman exclaimed and Maverick glanced curiously at the blond man. He had a feeling Hangman wasn’t used to having to share Coyote. 

“We don’t do that.” Coyote defended and Hangman spluttered. (Y/N) grabbed her keys from the counter.

“We’re going to the grocery store.” She said and without explaining, turned for the front door. Maverick shook his head after the pair left. 

“She’s so weird.” He muttered. Rooster gave half a laugh.

“She’s your kid.” 

-

He watched with laughter at the way his daughter ran around the house, delegating sleeping arrangement’s and blankets and pillows to the crew. He puttered around in the kitchen cleaning when she finally walked in. “The children are tucked in.” She joked as she stood opposite from him, leaning up against the counter. 

“Where’s everyone sleeping?” She sighed, trying to think. 

“Coyote and me in my bed. No.” She protested, seeing the look on his face. “Fanboy and Payback on the big air mattress on the floor of my room. Halo’s on the couch in my room. Phoenix and Rooster are on the bed in the guest room. Bob’s on the other air mattress in the guest room. Yale and Harvard are on the floor of the guest room in the sleeping bags and Omaha decided to sleep in the hallway. Hangman’s on the recliner in the living room, I think.” 

“I still can’t believe I let you put a couch in your room when you were 15.” He said, shaking his head. 

“Oh, it’s a loveseat anyways, let it go.” He laughed at that as he settled against the counter as well. 

“Anyways, listen, I’m gonna head out to the hangar for the next few weeks. I think Rooster is gonna join us as well. So, unless you’ve got some grand plans for leave I don’t know about...” His daughter shook her head.

“Can I just meet you out there? I promised Coyote I’d take him to the airport.” Maverick nodded.

“Sure, sounds good kiddo. Speaking of-”

“No, I already know where you’re going with this. There’s nothing going on between me and Coyote.” Mav narrowed his eyes at his daughter. 

“I wouldn’t get you in trouble if you were. He’s a good kid.” 

“Dad, I swear on Iceman’s life that Coyote and I have not nor ever will be romantically or sexually involved. We are just good ol’ platonic besties.” He cringed slightly at the implication of the words but nodded. 

“I just wouldn’t be mad, that’s all. I like him, and you could do worse.” She shook her head. 

“No, we’ve been tight since The Incident, but just friends.” She gave a half laugh and shook her head. “I never told him this, not that it would mean much to him, but I realized a couple days before we got the re-assignment order that he was my Goose.” He took in a sharp breath at her words, flashing back to the memories of the days he flew with his best friend. 

“I’m glad you have a Goose.” He whispered and she nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. 

“Yeah, me too.” A silence settled between them as they took in the quietness of the house. He cleared his throat finally.

“Anyways, what’s going on with you and Rooster these days?” She shrugged. 

“Hell if I know.” She said and he smirked at her. “What?”

“You have a thing for him.” She spluttered, gaping at him. 

“No, I don’t! You come off that because Coyote won’t let it go either.” Maverick shrugged. 

“Whatever you say kiddo. But you should probably talk to him while we’re at the hangar. The two of you have a lot to discuss.”

“No, the two of you have a lot to discuss. I’ve got nothing left to say to him.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m going to bed.” 

-

He woke up to chatter and music coming from the kitchen and... was that bacon? He shifted up slightly, groaning once again at the ache of his injuries. They could’ve been worse but he was getting too old to keep doing this. He rolled out of the bed and opened the door, realizing it was in fact bacon he’d smelled. He wandered out to the kitchen, silently laughing at the figure of Hangman still sleeping. And then- 

He took in the sight of the kitchen counter covered in fruit, cinnamon rolls, pastries, donuts, different beverages and the squadron crowded around. His gaze moved along to Coyote and (Y/N), who were cooking. He took in the eggs, bacon, two types of sausage, three different kids of potatoes, pancakes and waffles, that were all being cooked. “What in the world?” He muttered and Bob looked up at him. 

“I don’t know, we all woke up to them cooking and they wouldn’t let us help.” Rebel caught sight of him and smiled. 

“Hey Dad, you woke up just in time. Food’s just about ready and then we were going to take it out to the patio and sit out there.” He nodded dumbly, trying to take in the fact that his kid was now some sort of chef. Or at least, Coyote was. He wasn’t sure how much she’d helped. 

“The hell’s this?” Hangman sleepily mumbled from behind him. “This what the two of you were doing at the store last night?” The pair nodded as they finished plating everything. He watched as his daughter began again delegating people to taking things outside to their patio area. She wasn’t a natural-born leader, but Ice had done a pretty good job of turning her into one. 

-

“Dad?”

“In the kitchen.” He called back, hearing his daughter come through the front door. Rooster paused slightly while eating, hearing (Y/N) too. She appeared in the doorway. 

“Mmm, smells good.” She said, and he looked down at the pasta he had made. It had actually been a dish she opted for a lot during high school and it was simple, but he was tired and feeling nostalgic for the days when his kids were much younger. 

“How was the drive?” He asked as she grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet. He was surprised she remembered her way around this place with such ease, not sure when the last time she’d been here had been. He glanced over at Rooster, who looked mildly nervous. “It’ll be fine.” He mouthed and Rooster nodded slowly, looking back down at his food.

“Good. Quiet. I realized on the drive out here this is the longest in two years Coyote and I will have gone without seeing each other. Just a tad weird.” She said, emotion coloring her tone as she grabbed food and sat down in the chair next to Rooster, opposite him. 

“You and Coyote are pretty close huh?” Rooster asked, an awkward attempt at making conversation. She nodded. 

“Yeah, kind of the equivalent of you and Phoenix.” 

“But you’ve been getting to fly together for the last two years.” She nodded. Maverick had to admit that this sight in front of him was odd. For the time in years, his kids were together and things were awkward. They’d never been awkward between Bradley and (Y/N). 

“How’s the Golden Warriors?” She asked and Rooster half-shrugged.

“Not too bad.” She nodded again, clearly at a loss for continuing the conversation. Mav cleared his throat and they both looked at him. 

“Why don’t you both come out to the hangar? I’ve got some stuff I want to show the both of you.” Rooster nodded and (Y/N) sighed. 

“Fine, but I’m bringing my dinner.” Rooster chuckled and he laughed. 

“I’d expect nothing less from you kiddo.” They walked the short distance out to the hangar and he held open the side door as the two walked in. He gestured to the small side table as he moved further back to some boxes. He heard the scraping of chairs and he went for the box he knew had the things he’d been looking for. He pulled out two envelopes and turned back to Bradley and (Y/N). He set the respective letters down in front of their owners, each name in a different set of handwriting. Bradley’s name was in Carole’s, (Y/N)’s was in Natalie’s. They both looked up at him and he cleared his throat. “Bradley, your Mom left that for you when she died. She said I’d know when was the right time to give it to you and I guess that’s now. (Y/N), the night your Mom left, she handed me that. I think she had it written for a while before she did finally leave. I’ve debated all these years on giving it to you but I don’t see why you shouldn’t have it.” The pair cautiously picked up the envelopes and then glanced at each other. They opened the envelopes and slowly began reading. He wasn’t sure what Natalie’s said, but he watched as his daughter became very more visibly upset. Not more than two minutes later, she was dropping the letter on the table, turning on her heel and headed back towards the house, dinner long forgotten. 

-

He and Rooster had had a long conversation in the hangar, a necessary one. The one they’d been avoiding for years and one that had mended their relationship and brought them both closure. He was very aware his daughter was somewhere in the house upset, but he’d also known his daughter to need to be alone when she was like this. It wasn’t often the subject of her mother got brought up and she was always very quick to shut it down. He paused in the hallway, seeing Rooster wander over to the couch where she was sitting, lights completely off. He elected to turn to his bedroom instead, letting them have a much needed talk.

-

He awoke this next morning and meandered out to the kitchen in search of food. He was greeted with the sight of Rooster sitting alone at the kitchen counter, quietly eating cereal. “Hey Brad.”

“Hey Maverick.” There was something in his voice that caused him to turn, mildly concerned. He took Roster in and he sighed, setting his spoon down. “She’s gone.”

-

The sound of keys opening the door to the house in San Diego alerted him that his daughter was back, from where, he wasn’t sure. It was almost 10 pm, this being their last day of leave, and he hadn’t seen her since she’d left the hangar the first night. He had been back a few hours but had elected to stay in the living room, waiting for her to come home. To ensure she was okay. He turned from the TV show he wasn’t really watching to take her in. She seemed to be doing okay. “Hey kiddo.” He said and she turned from where she was trying to disappear down the hallway. 

“Oh, hey.”

“Where’ve you been?” 

“Picking Coyote up from the airport. His flight was late.” He nodded, muting the TV and nodding his head towards the seat next to him on the couch. 

“Sit down, we need to talk.” She didn’t move from her position, leaned up against the frame of the hallway. 

“You gonna lecture your grown adult daughter for leaving?” Her voice was slightly hostile and he took a deep breath, knowing she was looking for an argument. He wasn’t sure what she was angry about but he could guess. 

“No, but I would like to know why.” She huffed.

“You and Rooster had some stuff to figure out. Didn’t me there for that.”

“Yes, but you and Rooster also have some things you need to figure out as well.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, we don’t.” He gave his daughter a careful look. 

“This has nothing to do with Rooster and everything to do with the mission, doesn’t it?” She shook her head. 

“Just let it go Dad.”

“No, I won’t let it go.”

“Dad, you can’t fix everything!”

“I know that, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try to fix what happened between my kids.”

“And why should I fix anything with him? Huh, he’s the one who-”

“Carole is the one who asked me to pull Bradley’s papers.” She stopped, staring at him. She blinked once, and then twice. “And I made a mistake by not telling you what I did and by not telling him why I did what I did. So, please let me fix this.” She turned away from him that, slamming her bedroom door behind her. 

-

He wandered into the classroom, trying to discreetly search for his kid. Bradley was already here with Phoenix and Bob. “Hey Mav.” Phoenix called and he raised a hand in greeting. 

“Hey Mav, is Rebel with you?” Bradley asked and he shook his head. 

“No, she was gone this morning when I got up.” Bradley nodded, seemingly lost in thought. He didn’t miss the way Bob and Phoenix exchanged a look. He stood at the front of the classroom, patiently waiting as the rest of the team filtered in. Finally a few minutes before they were due to start, he heard Coyote’s voice coming down the hallway. He felt relieved knowing his kid was just with her best friend. But as the door opened, he realized it was only Coyote and Hangman, no (Y/N). 

“Hey Coyote. Hangman.” Payback greeted. “Rebel with you?” Coyote shook his head. 

“Maybe she got so sick of your shit Hangman, that she went back to the Green Vipers.” Fanboy teased and Coyote snorted in disbelief. 

“That’ll be a cold day in hell.” Maverick glanced curiously at Coyote, wondering why his daughter disliked her squadron so much, she wouldn’t want to go back that bad. Coyote and Hangman took their seats, all too aware that their debriefing would start in matter of moments. And then, there was the sound of boots hurrying on the tile and his daughter slipping into her seat next to Coyote. He watched as different members of her squadron threw her varying glances as Cyclone called everyone to attention. He shook off the annoyance and concern directed at his daughter, and mustered up a smile. These were his kids now, and they were all his priority. Bring them home alive, remember? 

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

��- “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

[ayyezhongli]

horny hungry dom zhongli x innocent slutty childe

where zhongli is horny asf and childe has this lusty energy around him which makes it hard for zhongli to concentrate bc he just wants to ravage and fuck childe using him as a fucktoy

ok so its late in the day n zhongli jus came back from a mission. he has paper work he needs to finish but forst he needs to shower bc he’s sweating like crazy.

so he says “good work today”

trying to contain himself with all this lust and sexual desire that was pouring out of childe. childe smiled saying.

“yeah thx, you too”

n zhongli walked over to take a shower. the lust was too strong. like a tornado. if he stood there any second longer he would’ve for sure fucked childe stupid right there. he turned on the shower water to hot and stripped revealing his member hard asf.

“fuck not again.”

so now zhongli steps in the shower, cheeks tinted pink and one of his hands against the tile wall.

“i’ll just get it over with now”

with his free hand wrapped around his dick, he starts pumping himself as images of childe flash in his brain. childe in a maid outfit. childe with a lewd face. childe moaning….all he could think about were these abstract images and dirty scenarios about childe he made up in his head mumbling childes name under his breath.

“Fuck! fuck! fuck!”

so zhongli cums shooting his load all over the tile wall panting. after a few minutes of washing himself he turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist and gets out. he puts on a fresh pair of boxers and has the towel over his shoulders. when he looks up to his surprise, he sees childe standing in front of him with a bright red face.

“S-sensei!”

“how long have you been here?”

“w-well i went to go shower bc i thought you were done b-b-but….”

zhongli stares childe down biting his lip. childe could see the hungry look in zhonglis eyes. he looked like a beast who captured his pret and ready to devour it any second. n he suddenly found himself backing up as zhongli approached him until he was pressed up against a wall kabedoned.

He’s gonna eat me alive!!

“u saw enough.”

zhongli couldnt hold back anymore. he jus couldn’t. he has been for so long and too long. and with the way how childe was acting, his flushed face. He REALLY couldnt.

“S-s-sensei?!”

childe was squirming around trying to escape and oh that turned him on so much. watching childe squirm underneath him. and so he fiercely attacked childes neck marking and claiming every spot he can which in response to this action childe gripped his shoulders letting out tiny little pants and moans right into zhonglis ear.

“Sensei p-p-pls stop”

childe begged while zhongli ignored him. childes begging only made him harder. there was no going back now. zhongli slid his hands up childes shirt mouth still attached onto childes neck. he went up pinching his nipples causing a loud moan to escape his mouth.

“F-Fuck Sensei!!”

he moved up to nibble on his ear and reached his hand down into his pants to palm him.

“you’re already so hard for me childe….”

“S-s-sensei….”

childe moaned into his ear. childe had the lewd face that zhongli always dreamed of. It turned him on so much he almost came.

“D-d-dont to- Ahh~!!”

it was too late, zhongli had a tight grip around his dick and started pumping him fast. childe came within seconds all over zhonglis hand and in his pants. zhongli rid childe of his pants and started rubbing against him through his boxers.

“Mmmnn S-sensei dont stop ahh~”

“i never planned too”

He’s even hotter than i imagined

“childe….”

“w-w-what.”

“kiss me.”

n so childe did. wrapping his arms around zhonglis neck kissing him passionately. he wanted to have all of childe for himself. have him all to his self. violate and claim every orifice or non orifice of his body. all of it should n would belong to him by the time he’s done. pulling away breathless a string of drool attached from the mouth he went back in and childe rubbed back harder and needier than before.

“S-sensei….i want you….”

zhongli felt himself blush but kept a calm composure.

“prostrate yourself in front of me and maybe i’ll consider it.”

childe did so all shame going down the drain. n zhonglis view was nothing short from perfect. it was beautiful. seeing childe’s pink innocent little hole with his ass high up in the air. he couldn’t hold back. it was so plump, so untouched, so round, so innocent looking he wanted to destroy it. and so he bit down marking and claiming what belongs to him which made childe yelp. with a loud smack childe came as a red hand print formed on his ass.

“you came just from that? what a slutty little masochist”

childe quivered while zhongli spanked him a few more times. he could feel his legs going weak until they finally decided gave out and he dropped to the floor unable to hold himself up any longer.

“i’m not finished with u yet. get back up.”

childe struggled to follow his directions but eventually did wobbling.

“good little slut.”

zhongli bent over and planted a gentle kiss on his head.

“turn around and suck”

zhongli said pulling down his boxers revealing his hard member. childe just stared. that wouldn’t be able to fit inside him!! how was he gonna take all that it!!

“stop gawking at it n suck it!”

childe gulped and started licking his shaft sucking on the balls from time to time. he slowly lowered himself down gagging at every inch. he wanted to see zhonglis reaction through it all so he maintained eye contact as he watched zhonglis face flush and his hand covering his mouth. it was hot ngl and childe could feel himself becoming harder. after a few zhongli came and he could feel the slimy liquid go down his throat and drip down the side of his mouth. he pulled away but before he could fully zhongli held him down.

“keep going.”

childe did the best he could. and he could feel zhongli’s throbbing cock in his mouth.

“stick out ur tongue”

zhongli said panting slightly

“Fuck!”

and he came all over his face and getting sum on his tongue. catching his breath he looked down at childe to see such a slutty cum covered face panting with his tongue sticking out and tears forming from the side of his eyes.

“you look so hot covered in my cum, such a slutty whore all for me~….”

zhongli put his fingers in childe’s mouth.

“suck and get them nice and lubricated.”

childe did so until zhongli pulled them out.

“prostrate yourself for me again.”

and when he did, zhongli shoved his fingers inside causing childe to moan in pain, crying.

“S-s-sensei it hurts…”

“it wont for long just hang in there. this isnt even the part that hurts the most.”

zhonglis fingers wiggled around inside childe

“god ur squeezing my fingers so tightly”

his fingers searched for that one g spot.

“where is it now….”

zhongli said still looking until childe arched his back and let out a loud moan drool dripping down the side of his mouth.

“found it.”

what was he feeling? what was this immense amount of pleasure? has he have no shame? it all felt too good childe couldn’t think straight. as a puddle of drool formed from the side of his mouth n on the floor zhongli pulled out and aligned himself.

“woah woah wait sensei thats not all gonna f- AHH SHIT!!”

but before childe could finish zhongli pushed himself inside him. all of him. and childe choked on his own spit, eyes widening and crying clawing at the floor to escape as zhongli thrusted into him fast and rough showing no mercy.

“Sensei it hurts! It hurts! It hurts so much!”

childe cried out clawing and scraping at the floor.as much as he tried to escape zhonglis grip on his hips was too tight.

“shhh its okay….it’ll feel better soon.”

and like zhongli said, the pain started fading away n all he could feel was pleasure. all he could think abt was zhongli. zhonglis dick deep inside him. destroying him. ruining him. claiming him.

“Zh-zh-zhongli~!!”

childe moaned out.

“fuck that was hot. moan out my name again. moan the name of the person who’s fucking u stupid. claiming you for themselves.”

zhonglis pace quickened and by now he was slamming into childe ruining him like he always got off too.

“ZHONGLI FUCK!! I’M GONNA-”

and with that childe came dropping to the floor.

“this isnt over yet childe, not even close~….”

zhongli flipped him around placing each of his legs on his shoulder and pounded into him harder n faster than childe could ever imagine.

“I’m gonna cum again…”

“n im gonna cum too….”

giving a few more thrusts zhongli came inside him and childe came again on his chest cum dripping out of him and panting heavily and twitching.

“ur still so hard for me.”

zhongli palmed the twitching childe and he came once more all over zhonglis hand. zhongli lifted his hand up to childes mouth.

“lick it clean”

hesitating, childe sucked his hand clean tasting himself. the bittersweet slimy consistency. he couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose.

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style.

“lets take a shower shall we?”

“t-t-together?”

“mhmm.”

and so they stepped into the shower to bathe but it turned out to be another round. the end :)

(but guess what- i wrote an alt ending so enjoy 😈)

ALT ENDING:

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style. when zhongli raised his head he could see diluc standing in there eyes widen is shock to speechless to say anything. Childe looked at diluc face flushed

“DILUC??!!!? HOW LONG HAVE U BEEN THERE?!”

diluc was too speechless he couldn’t say anything.

“i’m just gonna-”

diluc said turning around.

“dont tell anyone diluc”

“i never planned too.”

diluc said walking out.

“Besides…i dont wanna risk the chance of me n kaeya getting out.”

(ok now thats the alt ending. hope you enjoyed the story. it’s pretty rushed but don’t mind that)

[jeonsjiddies]

little things | jhs (m)

⏤  Pairing: single dad!Hoseok x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: 6.1k ⏤  Warnings: very brief mentions of abortion (that didn’t happen), breast play, daddy kink, impregnation kink, cream pie, dirty talk

⏤  Summary: The best things in life are often unexpected. Like the two year old girl who ran up to you for comfort, and her devastatingly handsome father. 

Thank you to @excusemin​ and @sugaflake​ for beta reading. I love you.

Part of my Milestone Celebration Event! Check out the other fics here.

The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was bright and shining but it wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat. The wind was gentle and rustled the leaves on the trees with a tender caress, the birds were singing, and for the first time in a while, you felt good. You had taken a walk to the nearby park, making a few laps around the walking trail before settling yourself against a tree to soak in some sun and relax. You had promised yourself you’d get out more after being holed up in your apartment alone with only your red wine and oreos to keep you company. It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of the time, and you were finally ready to become a productive citizen of society again.

It was the perfect day to do so in your opinion, everything around you seemed so tranquil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the warm air to soothe you. That was, until you heard a shrill shrieking and your eyes popped open seconds before a girl who couldn’t have been older than two, catapulted herself into your arms. She was screaming, crying, clinging to you for dear life, one hand pointing behind her and you looked up to see a disgruntled goose hissing at the two of you, stalking closer with a threatening posture.

You slowly stood and backed up behind the tree, holding the small girl close to you, ready to use your body to shield her own. The goose hissed a few more times, but thankfully did not advance any closer. You waited, watching quietly, and it seemed to decide you weren’t worth it before hissing in warning once more and stalking off towards its nest. You let out a breath of relief, and tried to set the little girl down but she clung to you and made it clear she wasn’t letting go, so you rubbed her back soothingly.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” she sniffled into your neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll help you find them.”

You carried her closer to the playground section of the park, looking around for someone who might be looking for her. Soon you heard a frantic male voice booming through the air.

“Yeona! YEONA!”

The little girl’s head popped up at the sound, her head turning towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

You looked up and followed her line of sight, your gaze landing on a hunk of a man. He was tall, well-built but not bulky, with thick, black hair and lovely tan skin. The man’s eyes locked with the child in your arms and he visibly melted in relief seeing his daughter alive and unharmed. He ran over to the two of you quickly, guiding the fluffy dog on the leash with him. He reached the two of you almost instantly, and Yeona slipped from your arms into her father’s embrace easily, snuggling up to him.

“Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried!” he fretted, smoothing down her hair and fretting over her, causing her to let out the cutest giggle you’d ever heard in your life.

His gaze turned to you after he’d calmed down enough to pay attention to anything but the little girl in his arms, and it was then that you noticed his perfectly straight pearly white teeth, soft lips, and eyes that shimmered like diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as he watched you and then he began to ramble.

“Thank you so much, I am so sorry! Mickey got his leash tangled around a pole and I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone! I was so scared I thought I was going to throw up, I kept thinking about all those stories I heard about little girls getting kidnapped and sold into slavery and I think I almost passed out. Thank you so much for keeping her safe, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. She is my everything I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s all I’ve got left and I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and opening those shimmery eyes to meet yours once again, “thank you.”

“It’s really no problem, I get it. Kids can be a handful.” you smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you so much. For helping. For not judging. Oh! I’m Hoseok.” he extended a hand to you and you shook it gently, feeling sparks racing up your arm and down your spine but you shook them off.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

You both heard Yeona’s stomach growl and Hoesok laughed.

“Time for lunch, little one?”

She nodded and pouted adorably.

“Say bye to Y/N.”

Her little face scrunched up in displeasure and she started crying, reaching out desperately for you, and Hoseok almost dropped her from the unexpected shift in her weight. Taken aback, you allowed her to jump into your arms once more, cradling her close so she didn’t fall. She buried her head in your neck and you looked at Hoseok in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Yeona come on we have to go.” he tried prying her from your frame but she only wailed in response, clutching tighter.

“NO.”

“Yeona please, Y/N must want to go home.”

“No!” she sobbed.

You rubbed her back soothingly, rocking from side to side a bit to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face and you smiled.

“There’s a pretty girl!” you smiled, smoothing down some hair that had gone awry. “How’s this? If you go get lunch with daddy, I promise we can play together at the park soon. Okay? Well, if that’s alright with you?” you looked up at Hoseok.

“Of course!” he agreed quickly.

“But… I want you to come too.” she pouted, looking up at you with  pitiful puppy dog eyes.

You looked up at Hoseok for some direction and he watched the two of you carefully.

“Would you like to join us for lunch? My treat. As a thank you.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a shy smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t want to impose-” you began but Yeona whined loudly.

“Please!”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off.

“Yay!” Yeona grinned, hugging you tightly then wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand, pulling you along with her towards the car.

Hoseok laughed and followed the two of you with Mickey on his leash. Yeona insisted that you sit with her in the back so she could show you her collection of stickers. You gave the appropriate excited responses to each one, even gifting you a shimmery mermaid, pressing it into your shirt, telling you it was her favorite but she wanted you to have it.

Hoseok pulled up to a local cafe that had outdoor seating, saying he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mickey in the car alone, a fact that warmed your heart. You helped Yeona slide onto the bench, Hoseok sitting across from the two of you. You ordered something cheap, not wanting to burden him, and made small talk while you waited for your food.

“Thank you again, so much, for keeping Yeona safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to her,” Hoseok sighed.

“No problem at all, thank you for lunch!”

Hoseok smiled, and turned to watch Yeona draw something on one of those kids menus they give out with crayons, her picture depicting the day at the park.

“So is your wife at work?” you asked, sipping on your soda, attempting to avoid the silence.

“I, uh, don’t have a wife,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize - your husband?”

“I’m single.” Hoseok laughed.

“Oh. So it’s just you raising Yeona?”

“Yeah, it’s been just us since the beginning. Her mom… it wasn’t a permanent thing, and when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to…” he glanced over at Yeona, and though she was busy messing with Mickey, Hoseok still imitated the scissor motion with his hands, rather than saying the word.

Your eyes grew wide and you glanced over at Yeona.

“I mean, I believe in choices, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t imagine that happening to my child. I begged her to reconsider and promised I wouldn’t ask for anything if she let me keep Yeona, and here we are.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you watched his face for a reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything! I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same, I hope.”

“You would hope, but oftentimes I just get judgemental looks or scowls. People aren’t very kind to single parents, apparently,” he sighed, twirling the straw around in his drink, “so your kindness is appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to raise a child alone. If you never need anything, you can call me? If you feel comfortable?” you offered, holding out your phone.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock.

You shook your head with a smile, handing over your phone for him to input his number and texted him so he had yours. Hoseok looked star struck, and you wondered why someone so bright and happy could receive such backlash. You couldn’t focus on that thought for long, because Yeona jumped up excitedly, clapping and pointing to the waiter who was bringing your food.

You helped her cut hers into smaller bites and entertained her throughout the meal whilst eating yours so Hoseok could relax and enjoy his food, and you didn’t miss the appreciative smile he sent you.

Throughout the next few months, you spent more and more time with both Hoseok and Yeona. You’d meet them at the park, accompany them on little adventures, video chat with them before bed. You began hanging out at their house, spending your days nestled in the crook of their couch with Yeona snuggled up against your side while you watched Frozen 2 for the six hundredth time, or conducting a rather elegant tea party in which you’d convinced Hoseok to wear a tiara for.

You spent so much time around the pair, their home had begun to feel like a home away from home. You often found yourself crashing on the couch after playing too hard and staying too late. You searched YouTube and learned how to french braid since Yeona couldn’t stop talking about “princess hair” and Hoseok was… less than talented with her hair. You would sit behind her on her bed, braiding her hair and telling her silly stories and jokes, and began to love the little girl as your own.

Hoseok would sneak up behind you and attack the both of you with tickles or start a bubble fight. Sometimes it was hard to forget you weren’t a family, especially when strangers in public mistook you for one. You’d blush and look away, while Hoseok would gently correct them… at first. Slowly, Hoseok stopped correcting them, saying they could think whatever they wanted.

You tried not to read too much into that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he would just let other people think that you were together, that you were a family. Sometimes, he’d even play it up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close, purposefully giving people the wrong idea with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You’d try to hide the heat on your skin, the way your heart pounded, the way your breathing seemed a little uneven when he got too close. While you’d just seen Hoseok as an attractive man and a wonderful father at first, the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to fall for him. He was so sweet and funny and kind and cared about Yeona so much it burned your insides with joy.

The nights when you’d stay, you both had a habit of sipping on a glass of wine while you chatted, just enjoying each other’s company, and enjoying the peace and quiet. You’d never trade Yeona for anything, but sometimes she was so energetic the both of you couldn’t quite keep up, needing to unwind and relax after she’d fallen asleep.

You’d met his friends and parents at Yeona’s third birthday party, and they loved you as much as Hoseok did, a fact that caused his bright smile to glow to the point he rivaled the sun. You’d become a staple in their lives, a constant, someone they could rely on. It was crazy to you how one fateful day had changed the course of your life, and these two unsuspecting strangers had grabbed onto your heart and refused to let go. You couldn’t say you were complaining though.

Not when you were the cause of Yeona’s adorable little giggle, her tiny hands coming to cover her face while her entire frame shook from the force of her laughter. Not when you’d look over and catch Hoseok watching the two of you with a wistful, joyful expression. Not when he’d join the fun and you’d both chase her around the yard, Mickey following and barking while his tail wagged a million miles an hour.

There had even been a few nights you’d awoken on their couch to find Yeona crawling up next to you, whimpering pathetically as she mumbled “bad dream” and reached to you for comfort. You’d hold her close and stroke her hair, humming gentle lullabies to soothe her weary young mind. There were nights when you weren’t there and you’d get a FaceTime call at an unholy hour, Hoseok apologizing, saying Yeona wouldn’t go back to sleep without speaking to you.

You’d comfort her and assure her everything was alright, and you would visit her soon, and the two of you would have so much fun she wouldn’t even remember why she was sad in the first place. Hoseok would thank you, apologizing that he couldn’t convince her to leave you be, and you’d shrug him off, telling him you were available anytime. You loved her and would do anything to make her happy. What you didn’t tell him was that the same applied to him...

It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him, how badly you wanted to be a true part of their little family. You knew you had a special place in their hearts, that you were an honorary part of the family, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might have been like if you were to be with Hoseok, if you were to accept Yeona as your own. Would you be able to make them happy? Or would you just be trying to fill a void meant for someone else? You’d shrug those thoughts away as soon as they came and focus on living your life as normally as you could.

That’s when your other thoughts about Hoseok would set in. To say you wanted Hoseok would be quite the understatement. Yes, you wanted to be a part of their family in the simplest ways, to be there for them and love them unconditionally, but there was also that lingering attraction. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him some days when he laughed, when his shirt rode up and accidentally displayed the trail of hair leading down to the promised land.

When he’d display his strength by helping you move something, or when he’d wrap his arms around you just a little too tightly, allowing your bodies to press against each other. If you weren’t cooing over how cute the two of them were, you were thirsting over Hoseok and trying desperately to think innocent thoughts, lest your arousal get so potent he would notice.

Once, you’d gone to the pool with Hoseok and Yeona, thinking nothing of the invite until you’d shown up in your bikini, ready to swim. Hoseok had physically ceased moving and his gaze had slowly trailed down your body, drinking in the sight of you so scantily-clad. His gaze had your skin burning more than the hot summer sun and you squirmed under his undivided attention, unable to stop yourself from also peeking a glance at his shirtless chest. Smooth skin, abs that weren’t too defined but were definitely there, that drool-worthy v shape that disappeared into his trunks…

You’d both snapped back to reality when Yeona had whined loudly, asking you to play with her under the waterfall station. Heat had flooded your cheeks and Hoseok had looked down with a guilty expression, scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle, saying he’d find a chair to place your items at and would meet the two of you over there.

There was also the time you’d come over for movie night a little earlier than planned and Hoseok had answered the door in a towel, loosely hung low on his hips and you’d been mesmerized by the water droplets that slowly traveled down his almost naked body. You’d audibly sucked in a breath, your mouth parting just slightly, and Hoseok had apologized, then rushed off to get dressed, but you hadn’t gotten the image out of your mind since.

On Friday night, you’d just arrived home after a long day at work, flinging yourself onto the couch with your amazon package in hand, a cute JoJo bow you’d picked up for Yeona after seeing it on the app during your late night scrolling. All your targeted ads were now centered around items for young girls rather than women your own age from you spoiling the young girl so much. You smiled to yourself and just as the thought had left your mind, your phone rang.

“Y/N!” Hoseok gasped, sounding panicked.

You immediately sat up, “what’s wrong?”

“I have this event for work tonight that I absolutely can not miss and my babysitter just cancelled. I tried calling the guys, my mom, everyone! No one’s available and I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch Yeona? I swear it’ll only take like, two hours! Tops!”

“Hobi, calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?!” he sighed in relief.

“You ordered me pizza for tonight.”

“You got it. The usual?”

“You’re the best, I’ll see you soon.”

You hoisted yourself up from the couch and trudged out the door, making quick work of your drive to Hoseok’s place. The door swung open before you could even knock, and Yeona flung herself into you, wrapping her arms around your legs, then reaching up for you to hold her. You leaned down and picked her up, snuggling her close to you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Daddy said you’re going to play with me! By ourselves!” she bounced excitedly in your arms.

“It’s true! Are you excited?”

“Yes!”

You giggled and placed her on the ground, turning to Hoseok who was slipping his jacket on. He leaned in to give you a tight, thankful hug that allowed you to smell his intoxicating aftershave. You swooned silently to yourself, hugging him back.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The pizzas on the way, I already put the tip in. I will be back by 8 at the latest!”

“Take your time, I love hanging out with Yeona.” you reassured him.

He shot you an appreciative smile before leaning down and kissing Yeona on the cheek, then absentmindedly doing the same to you before rushing out the door. You stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door Hoseok had just exited from, shell shocked until Yeona tugged at your tights, forcing you to avert your attention to her and not your racing heart.

“Y/N, come play.”

“Oh! Right. I got you a present,” you dug into your purse and pulled out the shimmery bow, clipping it into her hair.

“Jojo!” she shrieked excitedly.

You giggled and followed along as she tugged you towards the mirror, surveying her new bow and twirling around like the diva she was.

“I look like a princess!” she said in awe, her eyes shining.

“You are a princess!”

Her chubby little cheeks tinged pink with glee and she pulled you into her room, deciding she wanted to play dress-up with her princess dresses and find the one that matched the bow the most. Mickey lay on her bed, looking up at you with curiosity and wagging his tail. You sat beside him and gently stroked his head, causing him to nuzzle into your touch.

You watched with amusement as Yeona tore apart her closet to find the best dress to go with her new bow, absentmindedly picking up the used dresses and hanging them back up for her. If she drug out her toys though, you’d make her pick those up. But she was just having so much fun you didn’t want to interrupt, and the clutter bothered you so you picked it up in between your choruses of “ooh I like that one” and “you look so pretty!”

The doorbell rang, causing Mickey to let out a protective bark and you soothed his fur down before standing to open the door. The man on the other side greeted you warmly, asking you to sign the receipt for the pizza, which you did, before wishing him a good night. You drooled a bit, smelling your favorite toppings that Hoseok had remembered to order.

“Yeona! Dinners here!” you called, grabbing two plates and setting the table.

Yeona came skipping into the kitchen, and you helped her climb into the booster seat on her favorite chair before placing a bib on her so she didn’t ruin her dress. You cut the pizza slice into more manageable pieces for Yeona to eat before sliding into your own chair, biting into the heavenly food. You groaned happily and Yeona giggled, eating hers with her little cartoon character utensils.

Putting the leftovers in the fridge to ensure Hoseok had a snack later, knowing he didn’t eat before rushing off to work, you continued to play with Yeona for about an hour or two before she started yawning and you checked the clock, realizing it was almost bedtime. You helped her clean up the toys and mess you’d both made before pulling out some pajamas for her and assisting her with brushing her teeth.

You tucked her into bed and she pulled on your sleeve, looking up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to read me a story like daddy does?”

“I can! What do you want to read?”

“If you give a mouse a cookie!”

You grinned and grabbed the book off the shelf, leaning against the headboard next to Yeona and began reading.

“If a hungry little mouse shows up on your doorstep, you might want to give him a cookie. And if you give him a cookie, he'll ask for a glass of milk. He'll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn't have a milk mustache, and then he'll ask for a pair of scissors to give himself a trim…”

About halfway through the book, Yeona’s eyes started drifting closed, but her little hand reached out to hold onto your free one, and you looked down at her, setting the book down in your lap.

“I love you, Y/N,” Yeona mumbled, snuggling closer to the warmth of your body.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” you cooed, smoothing her hair out of her face with a tender touch.

“Wish you were my mommy.” she sighed, barely awake.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully she didn’t seem to be looking for one, her eyelids fluttering shut before you heard her soft, even breathing.

“Baby girl, I would never leave you behind if I were,” you whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear as you continued to stroke her hair, “I would take care of you, my love. I wish I was your mommy too.”

You watched her sleep for a little while longer, her precious face looking so peaceful and pure. You wondered how anyone could ever walk away from such a beautiful little girl. Stroking her hair one last time, you stood and placed the book back on the shelf, exiting the room with Mickey on your heels and slowly shutting the door.

You let him outside to use the bathroom and gave him a treat before settling into the couch with him in your lap, petting him absentmindedly as your thoughts raced with the events of the night. How Yeona had been so cute dressing up, had been so entertaining with the little tea party you’d both held, how she’d told you she wished you were her mom… How Hoseok had kissed your cheek, clearly not thinking about it, and doing it out of habit, but how it had sent your heart lurching out of your chest. Just as the thought of Hoseok had crossed your mind, the door opened and Hoseok rushed inside, quietly but profusely apologizing for being late.

“I am so sorry, the function ran over and I was on the cleanup crew so I couldn’t leave.” Hobi whisper-shouted.

“It’s fine, I had fun, I barely realized what time it was. Yeona’s asleep.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hoseok gushed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hold out some bills for you to take.

You looked up at him with one eyebrow arched, a sassy look on your face, and that had him putting the money away.

“Are you sure? I can pay you, I know you probably had other plans, it is Friday night after all.”

“Hobi, there is nowhere I would rather be, no matter what day of the week it is.” you smiled.

“You’re a god-send.” he groaned.

“It’s late, I should get going.” you smiled, seeing how exhausted he was and wanting to get out of his hair.

“Nooo, it’s too late for you to drive home alone. What if you fall asleep at the wheel? You should just stay. You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can take the couch.”

“Are you thirsty? Want some wine?” he offered, walking backwards towards the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Hoseok grabbed two glasses of wine and the bottle, setting the objects on the coffee table in front of you and easing himself into the seat beside you, and you both sipped on the dark red liquid as you talked.

“I really am so thankful for your help tonight, all your help with Yeona. It’s not easy doing everything on my own. I know I have my parents and the guys, but sometimes I wonder if I’m giving her the best life or if I’m holding her back from having a happy family,” he sighed.

“Hobi, that little girl adores you, there is no one she’d rather have as her father.”

“I know, but is that what’s best for her? Doesn’t she need a mom?”

“She needs people who love her and support her, and she has that,” you comfort, rubbing his back soothingly, “she has you, the guys, her grandparents, me…”

“You’re right, thank you. I just get insecure sometimes, thinking she deserves better than… well, me.”

“Hobi, you’re an amazing dad! You’re so good with her, you’re raising her so well. She’s sweet and smart and well-behaved. She is so loved and it shows, because she displays love. You are a wonderful father, and you are more than enough.”

“Thank you, really. You always know just what to say. I’m so glad I met you, you’ve been so good to Yeona and I.” he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you too, you two are so important to me! I couldn’t imagine a life without you both in it.”

“...really?”

“Of course!” you immediately replied with conviction, holding onto Hoseok’s hand without realizing it.

Hands still in yours, Hoseok’s gaze lifted to meet your own, and you didn’t shy away like you’d immediately wanted to, wanting to both comfort him, and also look into his beautiful eyes for a moment more. You couldn’t believe Hoseok was insecure about his abilities to raise Yeona, he was the best father you’d ever seen,  one of the million things you’d come to love about him. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips momentarily, and he slowly leaned closer to your now-shivering frame.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off,” he whispered as he closed the gap between your lips.

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to close the remaining distance yourself, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. Hobi scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you against his body, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative at first but quickly lit a fire inside your core, and somehow, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding your core down on his semi-hard erection.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his kisses down to your neck, muttering into your skin, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.” you admitted through breathless exhales, working your hips against his while he worked his lips against your skin.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, feeling his stomach up to his nipples, grazing your nails gently across the buds, causing his body to jerk towards you. You smirked to yourself, lifting the shirt which he aided you in removing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his smooth, tan skin. You gently nudged him backwards until his head rested on the arm of the couch, and kissed your way down his torso until you reached the hem of his jeans.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as you undid his belt, looking up at him to make sure it was okay and he grinned at you, running his hand through your hair to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. You took that as an okay and slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to reveal his throbbing length, precum, leaking from the tip. You licked along the slit, gathering the precum on your tongue and swallowing, making a pleased noise in the back of your throat.

Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip and watching you lick a bold stripe along the underside, your hand reaching to cup his balls while you sunk down on his length, hollowing your cheeks around his throbbing member. Hoseok gripped your hair a little tighter in an attempt not to buck up into your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat as you sucked him for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he moaned helplessly, his grip on your hair loosening.

In response, you simply bobbed your head up and down faster, sucking harder on his length, using every trick you had to get him to his orgasm. Hoseok groaned, probably a little too loudly, before tapping the side of your cheek to warn you, but you didn’t pull away. Hoseok groaned, his back arching off the couch as he spilled his seed down your throat and you swallowed it all, licking your lips once you’d pulled off of his softening cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You giggled and leaned up to peck his lips, which he returned with fervor, licking along your bottom lip and deepening the kiss, pulling you closer , letting your hips settle atop his while his mouth worked against your own.

“I really want to be inside you,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you pleaded, grinding yourself on his length, and you felt it stir to life once more.

“Need to prep you.”

“No, I’m so fucking wet for you, I’m ready,” you groaned, lifting yourself off of him to shed your panties from under your skirt, bunching it up around your hips and lining your entrance with his now-erect penis.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, sinking down on his member and groaning at the way he stretched your walls, the slight burn being aided by the amount of arousal that had pooled in your cunt, allowing his length to slip into your inviting heat with minimal resistance. Hoseok bit down on his arm, holding in a moan at the feeling of your wet cavern wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

Hoseok’s hands came to rest on your hips, guiding your pace as you bounced on his cock, riding him with enthusiasm, your walls clenching around him each time the tip of his cock kissed that special spot inside you. Hoseok lifted his hips to meet yours, keeping time with your thrusts and you bit down on your lip to hold in a moan.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” you wondered, swiveling your hips down on him.

“Every night since I met you,” he admitted.

“Fuck, Hobi. Me too. Want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with my seed? Fuck a baby into you?” he growled and you clenched at the words.

“Yes, fuck.”

“Mmm, you like that? Wanna be filled with Daddy’s cum? Wanna see it drip out of that tight little pussy.” he groaned, speeding up his thrusts.

“Hobi, yes,” you whined, his dirty words spurring you closer to your release, “close.”

“Me too, baby. Come on, cum for me,” he urged, leaning up to bring one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your orgasm crashed over you the moment his tongue ran over the sensitive bud. You held your breath to keep from crying out as Hoseok worked you through your high, reaching his before you had finished yours, the feeling of his warm seed filling your battered hole making your orgasm even more intense.

Coming down from your highs, you lifted your hips to allow his length to slip out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your sex, running down your leg and his. Hoseok groaned at the sight, pulling you into his chest. You snuggled up to him for a moment before you both got up to clean up, him assisting you by gently running a damp rag along your folds and you running it along his leg to clean up the mess you’d both made.

You pulled your clothes back on and Hoseok grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom and offering you a t-shirt to sleep in. You weren’t sure he would want you to stay, but you were thankful he did. And not on the couch. After changing into Hobi’s clothes and cuddling up to him, his arm wrapped around your middle, you felt at ease. Hobi was the first to break the silence.

“Please tell me this means you’ll be mine,” he whispered against the skin of your neck while placing little kisses along the skin there.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” you answered, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

One year later 

Pushing the key in the lock of your brand new house, you opened the door and looked around the foyer, and heard little footsteps running through the hall, a sweet giggle echoing.

“Mommy! You’re home!” Yeona grinned, launching herself into your arms, and you spun her around, holding her close to your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl. How was your day?”

“It was good! I missed you though, you and my baby sister!” she grinned, her tiny, chubby hand caressing your plump belly.

“We missed you too, pumpkin. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s in his office, he’s been boring today, but he did take a break to play with me. He doesn’t play dress up like you do, you’re more fun,” she whined, clutching at your neck.

“Hmmm, how about we play a little before dinner then?”

She squealed excitedly, wiggling out of your grasp and running to her room. You followed behind her, leaning up against Hoseok’s office door on the way.

“Hey, handsome.”

Hoseok looked up, immediately standing and walking up to you, his hand gently caressing your baby bump while he pressed his lips to yours.

“Welcome home, baby. And baby,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, pecking his cheek.

“Yeona says you’re boring and don’t play dress up the right way,” you smirked, mocking him.

Hoseok groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically before his smile reached his eyes as he softly said, “Well, it’s a good thing we have you.”

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 25

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 25 - This Venerable One Hates Him So Much!

Chu Wanning couldn't force a "go away" to leave his throat. There was a long sombre pause before he changed his answer to: "Come in."

"Huh? Your door isn't locked?" They had been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But now, Mo Ran had the intention of reconciling with him, so he pushed open the door as he spoke like nothing had ever happened. Chu Wanning, on the other hand, sat expressionlessly at the table. He raised his eyes and glanced at him faintly.

In all fairness, Mo Ran was incredibly beautiful, and the whole room seemed to brighten as soon as he walked in the door. He was indeed very young. His skin was tight and seemed to exude a faint glow. The corners of his mouth were naturally slightly curled, and he seemed to be smiling even when he wasn't showing any emotion.

Chu Wanning didn't move his eyes off of Mo Ran. His slender eyelashes drooped and raised his hand to pinch out the incense burning on the table. He coldly asked:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came. . . to check your injury." Mo Ran awkwardly coughed. His eyes fell on Chu Wanning's shoulder and he froze. "You dressed it already?"

Chu Wanning faintly said: "Yes."

Mo Ran didn't know what to say: ". . ."

He really hated Chu Wanning, and he was furious that Chu Wanning had hurt Shi Mei. But, after calming down, Mo Ran wasn't completely without a conscience. Yeah, he hated him, but he didn't forget that Chu Wanning's shoulder was injured.

In the claustrophobic coffin, Chu Wanning had tightly guarded him in his arms, blocking the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws with his own body. His body had trembled in pain but he didn't let go. . .

To Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was disgusting.

But in addition to disgust, some very complicated emotions were always mixed in with it for some reason.

He was a rude person. He didn't read books when he was a child. Although he obtained some literary knowledge later, he still couldn't grasp many concepts easily when it came to many delicate things, especially when it came to feelings.

For example, when it came to Chu Wanning, Mo Ran rubbed his head and pondered. The back of his head was going to go bald, but he still couldn't figure out what this feeling was.

He can only identify certain kinds of feelings: love, hate, detest, happiness and unhappiness.

If all these emotions were mixed together, the wise and powerful cultivation emperor would get crossed-eyed and really dizzy.

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know. Help, my head hurts.

So Mo Ran didn't bother to dwell on it. Besides, he didn't have time to focus on any details other than Shi Mei.

He didn't hold good feelings for Chu Wanning in his heart, and while secretly plotting when he might have an opportunity in the future, he would make him pay with double the ferocity. On the other hand, he felt guilty. After an internal battle with himself, he finally knocked on Chu Wanning's door.

He didn't want to owe Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning was more stubborn and ruthless than he thought.

Mo Ran stared at the pile of blood-stained cotton gauze on the table, the bowl of hot water stained red with blood, and the sharp knife that was thrown haphazardly thrown aside. The tip of the knife was still coated with flesh and blood. His head was spinning.

How did he manage to heal himself?

Had he really cut off the festering flesh without so much as blinking? Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Was this guy even human?

He thought about when he had cleaned up Shi Mei's wound. Shi Mei had groaned softly in pain with tears in the corners of his eyes. Even though Mo Ran didn’t like Chu Wanning, he couldn’t help but silently give him credit——

Elder Yuheng was truly a domineering and righteous man, no arguments there.

After standing in place for a while, Mo Ran was the first to break the silence. He coughed, tapping his toes against the floor, and awkwardly said: "What happened in the Chen house. . . Shizun, I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't say anything.

Mo Ran stole a glance at him: "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Chu Wanning still ignored him. His face was still. As always, he had no reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't aggravated and just not saying anything.

Mo Ran walked over. When he got closer, he saw the mess of bandages on Chu Wanning's shoulder. The cotton gauze was tied in several different ways. It looked like a group of crabs that were stuck together.

". . ."

Also, for a person who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes, can he really be trusted to treat himself?

Mo Ran sighed: "Shizun, don't be angry."

"Do I look angry?" Chu Wanning angrily responded.

Mo Ran: ". ."

After a long pause.

"Shizun, that's not how you wrap a bandage. . ."

He retorted unceremoniously: "You want you to teach me?"

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He raised his hand. He wanted to help Chu Wanning untie the gauze and wrap it again, but he was observant and felt that if he dared to touch him, he might end up with a lashing, so he hesitated.

He raised his hand then lowered it, and then raised it again, repeating the action several times. Chu Wanning was getting annoyed. He squinted at him: "What are you doing? Do you still want to fight me?"

". . ." He really wanted to fight him, but now wasn't a good time.

Mo Ran smiled sheepishly. Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly reached over and grabbed his shoulders, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth: "Shizun, let me help you re-bandage it."

Chu Wanning wanted to refuse, but Mo Ran's warm fingers had already wrapped around the bandage. His mouth felt dry and stiff. He couldn't speak, so his lips moved slightly but nothing came out.

The gauze was peeled off layer by layer. Blood had soaked through it, and when it was all torn back, the five holes were piercingly obvious and hideous.

Just looking at it, he shuddered. It was many times more serious than the would on Shi Mei's face.

Mo Ran didn't know what he was looking at. He was stunned, then suddenly asked softly: "Does it hurt?"

Chu Wanning lowered his long and slender eyelashes, and simply said lightly: "It's fine."

Mo Ran said: "I'll be gentle."

Chu Wanning didn't know what he was thinking, and suddenly his ear flushed a little red. As a result, he got angry with himself again. He thought he was going crazy. All day he had been thinking up such nonsensical thoughts. His expression grew stiff. His temper worsened, and he said dryly, "It's up to you."

The candlelight in the guest room flickered. In the dim light, he could see that he had completely missed some spots with the ointment. Mo Ran was honestly speechless. He thought it was a miracle that Chu Wanning was still alive and healthy today.

"Shizun."

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you today at the Chen house? Why did you suddenly lash out and hit someone?" He asked while applying some ointment.

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, then replied: "I was angry."

Mo Ran asked: "Why were you so angry?"

Chu Wanning didn't want to trouble his disciple, so he told Mo Ran a brief and concise version of Luo Xianxian's story. After Mo Ran listened to the story, he shook his head: "You're stupid. In this kind of situation, even if you're angry, you shouldn't confront them about it to their face. If it were me, I would've made a mess of things and lie to them that the ghost had been removed, and then pat their asses and leave, letting them fend for themselves. Just look at you making a scene over such a rotten man. You knew you probably wouldn't get through to him, and then you missed and wounded Shi Mei--"

Halfway through the sentence, Mo Ran abruptly stopped. He stared silently at Chu Wanning.

He tied the bandage carefully. He was a little forgetful and he was talking to Chu Wanning like he had when he was 32, pretty cheekily.

Chu Wanning obviously noticed. He squinted his eyes, looking coldly at Mo Ran. That look resembled a very familiar phrase - "See if I don't whip you to death."

"Uh. . ."

Before his brain had thought up a response, Chu Wanning has already begun speaking.

He said indifferently: "Is Shi Mingjing the one I wanted to fight?"

When Shi Mei was mentioned, Mo Ran's originally calm mental state started to shift and his tone hardened: "Isn't he the person you hit?"

Chu Wanning did regret hitting him, but he couldn't admit it. At this moment, his face was sullen and he didn't say a word.

Chu Wanning was the stubborn type. Mo Ran was the lovesick type. Their eyes meet and sparks crackled. The atmosphere that had just eased a little became hopelessly stagnant again.

Mo Ran said: "Shi Mei didn't do anything wrong. Shizun, you hurt him by accident. Don't you want to say that you're sorry?"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes dangerously: "Are you questioning me?"

". . . I'm not." Mo Ran paused. "I just feel bad that he got hurt but never got an apology from Shizun."

Under the candlelight, the handsome and youthful teenager finished wrapping the last bandage on Chu Wanning's wound and carefully tied a knot. It may have looked like the scene was quite warm, but the mood between them had changed. Especially Chu Wanning; his chest felt like a jar of vinegar had exploded in it. The feeling of sourness was overwhelming and he felt angry and annoyed.

Apologize?

How do you even spell that word? Who'll teach him how to write?

Mo Ran said: "It'll take half a year for the wound on his face to heal. When I gave him some medicine just now, he still told me not to blame you. Shizun, he doesn't blame you, but do you think that justifies what you did?"

This sentence was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

Chu Wanning had been enduring it but he finally couldn't hold it back. He suppressed his voice and muttered: "Get out."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Chu Wanning exploded: "Get out!"

Mo Ran was forced out and the door slammed shut in his face, almost clamping his fingers. Mo Ran was furious. Just look at this! What kind of person was this? All this just to avoid apologizing? Such cherished and treasured pride. What was so difficult about saying sorry? All he needs to do is move his mouth. This Venerable One was the Emperor TaXian, yet this Venerable One didn't hesitate to apologize to others. As for the Beidou Immortal, half of his words were inexplicable, as if he had swallowed them. What a ridiculous temper!

No wonder no one cared about such a handsome face!

It was a waste of time. He deserved to stay single for the rest of his life!

Since Chu Wanning would rather ignore him and give him a closed-door to talk to, then of course the high and mighty cultivation emperor, the emperor of the human world, wouldn't lose any sleep over this. Although he was tenacious and as hard to get rid of as a piece of sticky candy, he stuck to Shi Mei, not his shizun.

He immediately left without a care and went to join Shi Mei.

"Why are you back so soon?" Shi Mei was in the midst of lying down to rest when he saw Mo Yan come in. He froze and sat up, long strands of ink hair hanging all over the place. "How's Shizun?"

"Very good. His temper is as strong as usual."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Mo Ran brought over a chair and sat on it backwards. His hand rested on the back of the Taishi chair, a lazy smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked across the appearance of Shi Mei's soft and long hair.

Shi Mei said: "Why don't I go and see him. . ."

"Don't think too much about it." Mo Ran rolled his eyes. "He's terrible."

"Did you make him angry again?"

"He needs someone to provoke him? He makes himself angry. I think he's made of wood considering he's so flammable."

Shi Mei shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Mo Ran said: "Get some rest. I'll borrow the kitchen downstairs and make you some food."

Shi Mei said: "What's the fuss? You haven't closed your eyes all night. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Haha, I am in good spirits." Mo Ran laughed. "But if you can't bear me leaving, I can stay with you for a while until you fall asleep."

Shi Mei hurriedly waved his hand and said warmly: "No, if you have to look at me like this, I won't be able to sleep either. You should go to bed early. Don't exhaust yourself."

The curvature in the corners of his mouth stiffened slightly. Mo Ran was a little sad.

Although Shi Mei treated him kindly, he always maintained such a distant attitude. It was the attitude of someone who was obviously close at hand, but as the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water, he could be seen but not obtained.

". . . Okay." In the end, he just tried to cheer up and laughed. Mo Ran's smile was very bright. When he wasn't completely evil, he was actually pretty silly and cute. "Call me if you need anything. I'm either right next door or downstairs."

"Okay."

Mo Ran raised his hand, wanting to touch his hair, but he held back. He spun his hand around in the air and scratched his head.

"I'm leaving."

Outside of the room, Mo Ran couldn't help but sneeze.

He sniffed.

Because Caidie Town produced incense, the price of all the different kinds of incense wasn't as expensive, so the inn wasn't stingy with it. Each room was lit with a long branch of special incense; one can ward off evil spirits, another can dehumidify, the last one can give the room a nice fragrance.

But as soon as Mo Ran smelled the incense, it made him uncomfortable. But if Shi Mei liked it, he would endure it.

Coming downstairs, Mo Yan wandered over to the innkeeper, slipped him a silver ingot. He squinted his eyes and said with a smile: "Innkeeper, do me a favour."

The innkeeper looked at the silver ingot and smiled more politely at Mo Ran: "What is this immortal gentleman's request?"

Mo Ran said: "I see that not many people come here to eat breakfast. I wanted to discuss that with you. I want to use the kitchen this morning. Please let the other guests know."

How much money would breakfast make him? It would probably be impossible to earn a silver ingot in half a month. The innkeeper immediately smiled and agreed, leading the swaggering Mo Weiyu into the kitchen of the inn.

"You want to cook by yourself? It's better to let the chef in our inn do it. He's very talented."

"No need." Mo Ran smiled. "Have you heard of the Jade Wine Building in Xiangtan?"

"Ah. . . Is that the famous music performance building that started getting popular more than a year ago?"

Mo Ran: "Yeah."

The boss took a peek outside and confirmed that his wife was busy and couldn't overhear. He snickered and said, "Who hasn't heard of it? It's the most famous restaurant on the Xiangjiang River. It used to have a lead musician there. It’s a pity it's so far away, otherwise, I'd want to listen to her play a song."

Mo Ran laughed: "Thank you for the compliment. I'll pass it onto her."

"Pass it on?" The innkeeper was puzzled. "Do you know her?"

Mo Ran said: "More than just know."

"Wow. . .You don't say? But you cultivators can be. . . well. . ."

Mo Ran interrupted him with a smile: "Other than the lead musician, do you know anything else?"

"Hmm. . . Their food was said to be a must."

The corners of Mo Ran's mouth curled higher and he smiled brighter. He skillfully picked up the kitchen knife and said: "Before I took up cultivation, I was a cook in the kitchen in the Jade Wine Building for several years. You said that your chefs make delicious dishes. Whose is better, theirs or mine?"

The innkeeper was even more shocked, and stammered out: "You're really. . . really. . ."

He couldn't get the words out.

Mo Ran gazed at him with narrowed eyes. His smile was barely holding back his smug and cocky demeanour: "You can leave. This chef is going to cook something."

The innkeeper didn’t know that he was talking to the former Lord of Darkness, and he put on a cheeky expression: “I've heard a lot about Jade Wine House's exquisite desserts. I wonder if you would let me have a bite once they're ready?"

He didn't think this was too high of a request. Mo Ran would definitely agree.

Who would've expected Mo Ran to squint his eyes and say with a smirk: "You want some?"

"Hmph!"

"Really?" Mo Ran snorted. He was bursting with pride. He scoffed: "You think I would cook for just anyone? This Venerable One is doing this just for Shi Mei. If not for him, I wouldn't even be lighting a fire to cook. . ."

He flipped a radish over and started to slice it, muttering.

". . ." The innkeeper slumped defeatedly. He rubbed his hands and stood there awkwardly. He halfheartedly chuckled at him then left.

He was also muttering to himself.

This Venerable One? For someone this young, his spiritual core hasn't even fully formed yet. He thought about his chatter and how he was probably referring to his elder sister disciple, but there was no female cultivator among the group who walked with him today.

The innkeeper rolled his eyes.

This person must be deluded.

Mo Ran stayed busy in the kitchen for several hours. It was almost noon when the work was finished, and he rushed upstairs to wake Shi Mei up.

When passing by Chu Wanning's room, he slowly came to a stop.

Should he ask if he wanted to eat together. . .

Thinking of Chu Wanning's harsh temperament, Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat, his face full of contempt.

No, no, no. He only had a few portions. There wasn't enough to share with him!

[keepingupwithpotters]

How about General 42: Are you flirting with me?

Thank you so much for the prompt Lauren <33 I've missed parties and flirting so much so I've decided to make that everybody's problem 🥰🥰

Lily can feel the music pulsing all over her as she stands in the middle of the common room. Her heartbeat still hasn’t calmed down after dancing for two hours straight and she swears it’s pounding in her chest simultaneously with the rhythm.

When she attempts to drink from the cup in her hand, which she miraculously still hasn’t spilled, she finds it empty. That explains the lack of clumsiness on her part, she thinks, or the fact that her whole body is throbbing like something red, raw, and alive.

The sweat is making frizzy curls stick to the skin around her neck, and it suddenly feels too hot among all these people she can hardly breathe. Escaping seems like a good idea now, to get away from this stifling air and maybe to get a drink for her parched throat.

It takes a moment for her to locate the makeshift bar but when she does, she finds herself buzzing for a whole different reason with a mouth drier than before.

It really is not fair on her addled brain for him to look this good.

She imagines herself now looking thirsty on another level, but she can’t find it within her to care as she drinks in James’ relaxed posture from afar. He is slouching against the table with a loose grip on his bottle and she admires the easy smile on his lips, so different from the intensity of it just mere hours ago. She notes with desperation he’d also changed from his Quidditch robes, which she can’t decide whether is better or worse.

His arm flexes under the t-shirt as he ruffles his hair.

Worse, then. Definitely worse.

She could try to reason with herself about how she was already going there anyway and how James has no effect on the speed of her steps. But she’s not fooling anyone, least of all herself, not with this much alcohol in her system and want in her blood.

“Now why are you not dancing at your own victory party, captain?”

He doesn’t look startled to see her beside him. “I think you’ve danced enough for both of us out there, Evans.

“I would’ve danced more if you were there with me too.”

The sad thing is, she doesn’t even get nervous about making these remarks anymore. The excitement to see whether he’d flirt back has faded away after her first few tries, his obliviousness to Lily’s all pitiful attempts now just a game for the girls to see how far she can take it.

“It’s not like I was miserable over here,” he chuckles. “I was just… enjoying the ambiance.”

“Is that what they call it now? Watching pretty girls dance from afar?” She adds a hair twirl for emphasis. Marlene would be proud of her.

He laughs wholeheartedly at this, a little too much if you ask her. She tries not to take offence.

“Guess I just needed a moment to take it all in. It’s the last year, y'know, trying to burn the good memories into my brain.”

She is certainly aware it’s the last year, thank you very much. The reminder prompts her to face him as she leans on the table like he does, debating whether a hair flip would be too much.

Ah, what the hell, she had passed too much two weeks ago.

“I’m sure we can make better memories than skulking in the corner of a crowded room and what? Drinking butterbeer?” She finds enough courage in herself to touch his arm as she adds the next part, “Well, no wonder you aren’t on the dance floor with me if that’s how you’re celebrating.”

“I think you have also drunk enough for both of us, Evans.”

“Nonsense.” She turns to face the various booze bottles and starts to add some firewhiskey in her cup to prove her point, a delayed mission on her part. “We wouldn’t be standing here talking if that was the case.”

Which is why she completely misses his face when he teasingly asks, “Are you flirting with me, Evans?”

She stops pouring the firewhiskey.

“What gave it away, Potter?”

The words alone could be considered a part of their usual bantering if it wasn’t for her deadpan voice. When she finally turns her head to gauge his reaction, she can see him trying to decide whether to laugh it off or panic as his joking question has now turned into something much more. She decides to press on.

“Was it the hair twirling? Cause I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing that for at least three weeks now.”

No answer. She isn’t sure he’s even breathing at the moment.

“No? Asking you to dance then? Something I’ve done at the last party too and got rejected again I must remind you.”

She knows it’s irrational for her to be angry at him about this, but it’s been too damn long, she has endured too much teasing, and she just wants to understand what has changed. James Potter stopped making sense to her a while ago.

“Guess not. Oh, it was touching you, right? Though, I’ve been doing that since almost the year’s started. Would be a real dark horse if that was the one.”

He gulps painfully, she really does feel sorry for him for a split second.

“It was probably the alcohol,” he chokes out at last.

“What? You only fancy me when I’m drunk or something, is that it?”

“Not– not your alcohol,” he stammers quickly. “My alcohol.”

Maybe Lily has drunk enough for the night. She definitely won’t admit he was right or that she can’t understand a word he’s saying though.

He apparently sees it anyway. “I don’t think I could accept you were flirting with me when I was sober, Evans. I still have a hard time believing it now.”

She gets a sudden calculating look in her eyes. “How far gone are you, Potter?”

“Alcohol-wise or you-wise?”

“Oh, now he flirts back,” she grumbles, the blush she feels rising in her cheeks ruining the disgruntled effect she’s going for. “How much of this will you be remembering tomorrow?”

“I don’t think I’ll be forgetting any of this till the day I die, Evans.”

“Good.” She stands up straight abruptly. “There is a chance I won’t have a clear memory of this moment.”

He wants to object to this vehemently, she can tell, but she doesn’t let him. “Knowing myself, I’ll probably be doing all of these in the foreseeable future too.”

“Which part,” he quips back.

“All of it. So you better get your act together.” She fixes some invisible wrinkles on her blouse before taking her cup back from the table. “I want you to bring your A game tomorrow.”

She leaves his side with a wink over her shoulder. She can’t wait to see the look on her friends’ face when she tells them her glaring success.

[oliviayamaoka]

The Distraction Continuation (Ghostface / Jed Olsen / Danny Johnson x Reader)

As requested, this is a continuation of the Distraction fic I made. Check out the first fic if you haven’t already. Enjoy! :)

You sighed deeply as you crossed your arms, shutting your eyes in slight annoyance at what was to come. Another trial. You hadn’t been in one for a while but your break was rather short-lived. There were three others that stood by your side. Ace Visconti, David King, and Yui Kimura. You respected them and actually enjoyed their company. Ace was funny, David taught you a couple of things, and Yui was always nice to you, encouraging you.

“Where do you think we’ll go this time?” Yui asked you, nudging your elbow with her own. You instantly lit up. Human interaction was comforting.

“Haven’t been to Hawkins or Glenvale in a bit.” Y/N replied with a slight shrug.

“My bet is the asylum.” Ace interrupted, pointing finger guns with that stupid smirk of his. Yui rolled her eyes, she didn’t seem to like Ace very much. Not since he flirted with her one time, even if it was jokingly.

“We might actually be there if Ace himself says so.” David said as the familiar gust of air surrounded the four of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, getting chills from the cold fog and air. The smell of fire and spring overcame you. Y/N opened their eyes, realizing that Ace’s bet was right. As always. A small laugh escaped your lips, a feeling of enjoyment before all hell could break loose again. 

Your gaze averted to the familiar structure of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. A sound played in your head, the screech of the Nurse. You were always curious about her but never got the chance to even talk to her unlike... no, it was one time. You weren’t gonna go around and try talk to killers like you did with him.

You put your palm to your forehead, cringing at the memory. Not in a bad way but maybe you could’ve done something differently. No, not really. Jed was a psychopath, a murderer. He was charming in a fucked up sort of way. You sighed as you walked towards a generator behind the grey brick walls.

There wasn’t any indication that it was the Pig or Freddy, thankfully. You began to work on the generator. Your thoughts turned to the fear of being hooked, stabbed, and hurt. You shuddered at the thought of it, the feeling of the hook would probably never leave you. Death was forever here, unfortunately. Elodie and Felix’s conversation had given you hope, maybe there was a way out of here.

“Shit.” You mumble as you shielded your eyes from the small explosion. 

Y/N huffed. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself and began again. Your head perked up as you heard stomping. It wasn’t loud enough to be the Oni or Trapper.

You kept a head on the generator as you noticed a dark figure stomping towards you. You needed a moment to process the situation. It was Ghostface? Oh shit, it was him, you thought. Flashbacks of your last encounter played in your head, he was definitely pissed off and you couldn’t blame it at this point.

“Don’t fucking try it.” He muttered in reference to you breaking into a sprint.

You felt panic wash over you as you quickly observed your surroundings. There weren’t any nearby pallets or vaults, it was a random open area near a hill with a chest and hook. Perfect, just perfect. Ghostface was quicker than usual, he grabbed you by the waist aggressively to tackle you down.

Ghostface held a knife to the back of your head once you hit the ground. You grunted as he put down all his weight onto you and assured that you wouldn’t be able to escape. The ground felt so uncomfortable, especially against your face. There was a few moments of you struggling beneath him to escape but it became no use. You stopped struggling after he pressed the blade against your skin.

“Didn’t bring a toolbox this time, Y/N?” He asked mockingly, pressing his gloved finger over the small slit. You winced at the stinging sensation but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“You know how to hold a grudge, Jed.” You replied. You were utterly terrified yet you always felt the need to reply to his stupid remarks.

“Indeed I do.” He replied, grabbing you and making you stand up. He held the knife to your back and pressed it slightly.

Ghostface was actually angry. He didn’t seem to mind actually hurting you or pressing the knife into your skin. You gasped at the painful sensation as he looked around, he saw the killer shack. He held a tight grip on your shoulder as he forced you to walk that way.

You instantly knew where he wanted to go. You just hoped the basement wasn’t there. Of course, you had known that this day would eventually come. But, why now? It was such awful timing, especially with the blue mood you had. Once the two of you reached the shack, he shoved you onto the ground aggressively.

“You’re pathetic... talking and talking last time we met. Now, you’re just a shitty excuse for a survivor.” He said to you. You scoffed.

“If it helps, Jed, I’m sorry.” Y/N replied. Your hand reached to the back of your neck where he had cut you. There wasn’t much blood but it still hurt. You stared at your bloodied fingertips as the man got more infuriated.

“You don’t get to call me that. And why the fuck are you apologizing?” He questioned you. His tone was venomous, this terrified you but him killing you was inevitable and well... you wanted to see him, anyways.

“If you didn’t care, you’d have hooked me now. I must’ve really hurt your feelings, huh?” You said, half-jokingly but you were also genuine.

“I don’t care.” He replied to you almost instantly. You knew that was a lie.

“Then why won’t you hook me? You could’ve slashed my back open but instead you pinned me to the ground... weirdo.” You mumbled.

He fell silent for a second. Ghostface was a bit baffled by you. Why weren’t you begging for your life? The version he remembered of you was different, or maybe he killed too many survivors that would beg. Not only that but he planned this out thoroughly. He was practically counting on you to scream and beg for your life. Ghostface had even made an offering for this realm because he researched it extensively, as he did with most of his previous murders.

Despite what he may have thought, Y/N was absolutely terrified. However, there was a strange feeling of attraction to him. Not necessarily a crush just yet but there was also a rivalry in which you felt comfortable talking to him. He felt like a real person. Well, of course he was a real person but you had no trouble making shitty remarks to him.

“I want this to last because you were being a little bitch last time. I’ve been dying to slice you open and make you regret that stupid little stunt you pulled.” He said to you.

You sat up, bringing one knee to your chest casually. There was a feeling of bravery that washed over you like last time. Y/N sighed deeply and looked around the shack. It was a basic shake. No totem, no gen.

“Yeah, sure... then do it.” You said to him.

“You’re not making this any easier.” He replied, more annoyed with you.

“Nothing you do is gonna make me regret what I did. Even if you do kill me and make me suffer, I’m still gonna come back alive. I’ve been puked on, trapped, and even had some weird ass trap put onto my head.” You said, standing up and pointing your finger to his chest.

“But you, Danny, only have a knife. I know the Legion or whatever their names are can use that better than you. You’re just a weirdo with a mask.” Y/N finished.

Ghostface seemed rather stunned, yet offended. Mainly because he couldn’t doubt anything you said. It became known that the Legion studied the human anatomy extensively, more than Danny ever cared to do. His area of expertise was stalking and memorizing a person’s schedule. But still. his ego was always bigger than any logic. The cloaked man grabbed your wrist. He oddly didn’t grab it too tight, he lifted your arm over your head.

“And what does that make you? I’m still better than you to some degree. You’re trapped here because the Entity thinks you deserve it and I get to kill anybody I desire.” He said, the tip of his blade poking your stomach.

“I guess we’re both shitty people.” You shrugged as his grip somewhat loosened. He sighed deeply before throwing you towards the generator.

“I had hoped killing you would be satisfying.” He muttered, bitter that your reaction wasn’t what he imagined. You fixed your shirt slightly and leaned against the generator. A part of slowly began to accept the growing crush you developed on the strange murderer, you didn’t care at this point since you were damned to an eternity of trials. 

“It probably would’ve been if you weren’t so easy to talk to.” You said to him as he snapped his head towards you, confused for a moment. Easy to talk to? He scoffed in response.

“Easy? You’re the fucking weirdo here.” He said, with a bit of a defeated tone.

“You’re no ladykiller, Danny, but... I’m charmed. I guess it’s something killers like you do though.” You said to him.

“I don’t charm or seduce people. I watch them.” He corrected you.

“Explains a lot.” You said, looking at your nails. Ghostface was quick to give into his ego and crossed his arms in a very stubborn manner.

“Actually, I did. As Jed Olsen, anyways. People were so trusting of him and neglected to suspect the new guy in town. It made it easy to watch people and I had a lot of excuses to spend hours doing so.” He said to you.

“Jed sounds nice.” Y/N shrugged.

“Well, Jed isn’t real, babe. He’s a shitty facade of what people like in a person. Made it so much easier for myself.” Ghostface said.

“Okay then,.. what did you do? As a career?” You asked him.

“I was a journalist and wrote for the Roseville Gazette. They made me cover my own killings and I did a good job doing so. Nobody could really understand my work though, no matter how much I tried to when I was Jed.” He said, a proud tone in his voice as he spoke. You were weirded out and cautious but you wanted to try and understand him.

“So, is that why you do it? For art?” You asked him as his head perked.

“That’s exactly why! There’s something very beautiful about the redness unique to somebody pouring out of them, even mixing with others. Not only that but just toying around and seeing how loud one can scream. Each scream is so unique and different. And just like art, you can fix your mistakes if it isn’t done right.” He explained, he seemed more relaxed. 

“Fix? But wouldn’t they be dead?” You asked him, genuinely confused. 

“You have to be an expert craftsman to fix it. A scream is a delicacy, something I choose not to indulge myself in often. Y’know, don’t want anybody hearing what goes on. When I do want to hear the screaming, it’s usually when my target has piqued my interest or mildly annoyed me. It feels rewarding after going through all the effort to memorize their lifestyle.” He said.

“A weird but cool way of looking at it, I suppose.” Y/N said. 

You didn’t really care about morality at this point. Such things as the Entity exist, anyways, You weren’t sure what you did to deserve being stranded here. Even if you did have a weird romantic interest in him, so what? Why would the Entity care? Why would any Gods care? And even then, you seemed to have an interest in his hobby. Blood and killing didn’t faze you anymore.

“You think so?” He asked you. 

“Depends on the person, I guess. I’d only do it to bad people.” You said.

“But, you’d do what I do?” He asked you.

“Yeah...?” You responded. Danny seemed a bit giddy.

“How would you do it?” Ghostface asked, he seemed way too excited to hear about your non-existent methods of killing.

“I don’t know...” Y/N replied, feeling somewhat flustered by how close he was to you. It was a different type of feeling when he wasn’t trying to stab you. 

“If you want, I could show you some pictures and give you tips.” He said.

“And kill who? We’re stuck in this hellhole.” You reminded him.

“What about the other survivors? They can’t all be innocent.” Ghostface said to you. He had some appreciation for you since you listened. It was crazy how much this strange man can switch up.

“No, never. I’m not that crazy.” You said as the loud horn of the exit gates blared. You looked around, really surprised. He seemed just as surprised.

“That long?” He questioned. 

“Guess I’m just that good of a distraction.” You said to him as he silently sighed in frustration but didn’t seem to care. A part of him enjoyed your talk.

“Guess you’re gonna be my one kill.” He said, shifting towards you and pushing you against the wall. You were taken aback by his swift movement.

You squirmed against his body, somewhat sliding downwards so kicking was pretty much useless unless you wanted to completely fall. The two of you grunted quietly as he turned you around, shoving your face against the hard wall. It was uncomfortable but he wasn’t being as rough as he usually was. At this point, you were scared of his knife so you tried pulling his hands away from you in the awkward position. Ghostface tightly pinned one of your arms on your back, you winced as he tugged on your hair.

He leaned inwards, poking his head towards your neck and hair. Ghostface took a moment to memorize your scent and what your hair texture might have felt like. For some strange reason, he seemed to want to learn everything about you. It might have been a bad idea for you to have opened him up about his art.

“Get off of me.” You demanded in a stern voice.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.” He replied sarcastically. 

You froze up when he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingertips trailing on your back. It wasn’t the motion itself but rather the feeling of his ungloved hand. You felt yourself go into a rather catatonic state, not in fear but you were quick to wonder why he would take his glove off. A thousand thoughts and scenarios played in your mind. His touch was soft but still managed to leave you with chills. 

Ghostface, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He made notes of how soft your skin felt, his hand curiously wandered upwards. It wasn’t long before his hand wandered to your more sensitive areas. A gasp escaped your mouth as kept you pinned with his knees, his hands groping you a bit more roughly. Your face heated up when he squeezed you, you didn’t seem to struggle either. 

“Fuck...” You whispered.

“If only we had the time.” He mumbled, sticking three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. Your eyes rested as you stared upwards, allowing him to continue touching you. 

“I bet you’re getting all excited over this... if only I could capture the look on your face right now. How does it feel? Having somebody like me have their way?” He asked you. You felt aroused yet ashamed to oblige him.

“It feels good...” You managed to say, his fingers still in your mouth.

You felt the bulge in his crotch grow hard but this wasn’t the time or place. As much as he wanted to fuck you then and there, he needed to have some control over himself. He pulled his hands away and slid his glove back on. You let out a sigh of relief but also a whine. You knew just as much as he did that it just wasn’t the right time. You wiped the saliva from your lips and slowly stood up.

He pulled you backwards by your waist. You felt him rub his knife near your crotch, gliding it teasingly. His other hand wrapped around your neck. You heard him chuckle rather darkly. At this point, you seemed more hot and bothered than he was. Ghostface squeezed your neck a little harder, wanting to get one last sound of of you before he let you go. He didn’t care whether or not the Entity would be displeased or not.

“Guess you’ll have to be a whore some other time.” He said, cutting you on the arm slightly. You pulled your arm away quickly.

“Whatever.” You replied, flustered by his comment. Did that just happen?

“Better go before the Entity kills you itself.” He said to you.

“Right, right... see you around, Danny.” You said before quickly walking away and then running towards the exit gates. 

His head tilted curiously. Ghostface wasn’t sure if he had feelings or not. He admired you for listening to him and asking some questions though. But, now that he knew you’d do things with him willingly, he had some ideas. A wide smile grew behind his mask as he began to fantasize about the photos he would eventually take. 

You would probably come to regret your actions, seeing as his obsession with you would grow. Danny needed to know everything about you and even felt a bit possessive now. It didn’t matter, there was many possibilities within the Fog. Pray that you’ll be ready for your next meeting.

NOTE: Currently writing a full fledged Danny fic with a different plot but have the sequel to the Distraction. Ty for reading!

[twinklelilstarkey]

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 11]

Words: 10.8k+

Summary: Y/N and Michael finally decide to talk about what happened.

Warnings: Female!Reader. 18+. Smut, unprotected sex [pls use a condom]. Cheating! Overthinking. A very slight mention of blood.

Prologue    Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5     Part 6    Part 7   Part 8    Part 9    Part 10    Part 11

“Oh, shut up!” You laugh out loud.

Finn laughs from beside you, laying on his back over Polly’s carpet as you lay on her couch on your stomach, looking down at the youngest Shelby brother.

“I would never do such thing.” You defend yourself, “Is that what you really think of me, Finn?”

Finn laughs with you as he stares up at you, hands resting on his chest, as he continues to assume how possible it is for you scare any girl that he’s interested in, away.

“Oh, please.” He says with a playful look on his face, “You would probably make her so many questions about her life choices that she would just run off.”

“Well, sorry if I continuously look out for you.”

The front door of Polly’s home swings open and almost makes you and Finn sit up by how high you two jumped from how it startled you.

You had been so focused on the conversation that you didn’t even hear the motor of a car outside. And now you two are acting as if you were caught talking about something you shouldn’t have been.

Polly walks inside the house, dark cigarette over her lips, and soon walks in Michael, following her every step.

“But why would he transfer the money if he didn’t need it?” He asks his mother, frown over his face as he closes the door behind him.

Polly shrugs at his words and takes off her furry jacket, leaving it by the hanger before taking the cigarette from her lips and exhaling a large cloud of smoke out of her lungs.

Her eyes move off her son, who has most of his back turned to you and Finn, and Polly finds you, almost falling off the couch from the strange position.

“Why are you on the ground?” She asks Finn, gaining a smile from the two of you.

“It’s comfortable.” He answers.

Michael looks over his shoulder and his eyes meet yours right away. Finn’s answer is able to manipulate a slight grin on his face, which hovers over his lips. There is no vocal answer on his part, just silence and a look of amusement.

It’s been almost a week since your nightmare, a total of 5 days to be exact. And Michael has been in Polly’s house for most of those days, mainly surrounded by work and nothing else.

You’ve questioned Polly about it after he left for the hotel and all you got as an answer was that he was trying to prove to Tommy that he can be forgiven. Quite odd, but who are you to question that?

At least 3 of the nights of those 5 days, Michael slept over at Polly’s. For a reason you do not know why, but it surely has to with Gina. You didn’t ask Polly about it, assuming she wouldn’t know, but honestly because it sounded wrong just to imagine yourself questioning such a thing.

Like said before, he had been working for most of his time over at the house, hidden in Polly’s office or seated at the dinner table, surrounded by papers while holding a cigarette between his fingers or lips as a way to lift off his stress.

You two didn’t talk much, but most of your conversations were in the mornings. Like the one after the night of the nightmare. They would end when his mind was somewhere lost in the papers and you two fell into the natural silence between sentences. You never disturbed him to keep the exchange of words alive, therefore, the talking of the day was done.

Michael and Polly continue their conversation soon after taking their eyes off Finn and you and, slowly, start making their way to the kitchen, where most silence of the house resides.

Their voices are low, but you can tell that they’re talking about work - something you’ve been forcefully pulled away for these past few days.

You look back at Finn once they’re out of your field of view and he’s staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Who’s occupying your mind, uh?” You tease him, poking his chest.

He snaps back to reality and looks over at you, playful smile on his lips as he adjusts his head on the tall pillow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He says back.

Your eyes widen at his words and a shocked expression twitches your features.

“So, there is someone in your mind?” You ask in a squeak, not controlling your vocal cords in a such exciting moment, “Finn Shelby, I cannot believe you.”

He stays silent, his smile just grows at your shocked and squeaky words.

“What’s her name?!” You ask in almost a scream, overly excited.

“I’m not telling you that,” He says, lifting and turning his head to the side on the pillow, “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, Finn, come on!” You drag out your words for dramatization, “Can you just tell me if you two are dating or not?”

He thinks for a second and you just stare at him as he does it.

Seconds later, he’s still silent, slowly getting on your nerves over playing with your excited emotions like that.

“I swear I won’t look into it, just please answer my question.” You plead.

Finn sighs, slowly giving up.

“Okay…” He breathes out, “I am not telling you her name. But…” You hold yourself up with your elbow in excitement, “We are dating.”

A loud gasp escapes your mouth, and you hold in another shriek of excitement over his words.

His smile is just enough for you to believe that he likes the girl too much to sell any more information about her to you, but you honestly couldn’t feel any happier.

“For how long?” You ask, holding yourself up to sit up, unable to contain your emotions.

“I’ve known her for a bit. Been dating for like… 2 weeks?”

Your jaw almost hits the floor, but before you could even ask why he didn’t tell you before, you got yourself the answer. You would’ve gone all inspector mode to try and find any girl in Birmingham that is overly happy about a certain event.

Nothing he wouldn’t do for you too. Plus… You were in a hospital not that long ago-

“Wow.” You sigh, falling back to lay on the couch, “You were seeing someone while I was dying?”

A loud laugh escapes Finn’s mouth and bite in your smile to continue your acting.

“No! God, I was seeing her before you got shot.” He tells you, “Good to know that’s what shocked you the most about my whole confession.”

“I have to have my priorities.”

He continues to smile up at you, finding your words so amusing that he’s finding it hard to hold his chuckles every time you open your mouth to speak.

“Does Polly know?” You ask him.

“No-”

Before he could have finished saying the simple word you’re already out of the couch and running to the kitchen.

Sure, it hurt a little to do that movement so quickly, but you’ve got a great mission up ahead… Tell Polly the big news: Finn has finally stopped having sex with everyone that has a pair of legs.

Finn laughs at your excitement yet doesn’t stop you. Polly will know now or later anyway.

Either you tell her now or someone will, in the future. Or worse, her second sight might let her know of the news when they’re in an argument.

A wave of chills runs through Finn’s spine at the thought, and he shivers absurdly as a reaction.

Thank god he told you first.

You run in the kitchen and Michael continues his conversation, not finding any problem with you hearing anything he’s saying.

You wait beside them for the conversation to end, hands behind your back, swaying back and forth on the heels of your feet like a child waiting for her parents’ permission to go play outside.

Michael finishes and Polly gives him a quick answer. You don’t care enough to hear them. You just want to dump out the news at the center of the table.

“Do you have that on paper?” She asks Michael and he nods, “Go get it.”

Michael nods again and leaves the room, leaving you to stare back at Polly with a huge smile.

“What do you want?” She asks.

She looks down at the ashtray as she dips the tip of her cigarette down, yet you see her hiding a playful smile, probably finding yours contagious.

“Finn just told me that…” You pause to add some suspense, “… he has a girlfriend!”

Polly, right on that second, looks up at you with widen eyes.

She stares at you, analyzing every small bit of your face, trying to see if you’re joking in anyway, but she finds nothing.

“He has a fucking what?” She whispers in shock.

(…)

It has been a few hours. All of you had lunch together, which was filled with a whole bunch of teasing Finn while he tried to hide behind his hands and act like he only wants to stare down at his food.

And, of course, while that happened, you tried not to choke in your water or water while laughing so hard.

Now, Finn is sitting beside Polly on the couch as she tries to squeeze out of him as much information as possible. Michael is standing by the couches, packing his stuff up to leave.

You make your way down the stairs, just returning from the bathroom, and Michael looks over his shoulder at you.

“Are you leaving already?” You ask him, curious.

“Yeah. Need to go take care of something.” He says, being careful with his words. Polly has been too careful with pulling you away from work, Michael doesn’t want to be the one to break that lack of information.

He looks back to what is in front of him, and you notice three boxes of what you believe is paperwork related to the family’s business.

Polly and Finn are still siting, deep into their whispers, probably hiding any kind of potentially important information about his girlfriend from you.

Before you can even tease them for their antics, Michael says something.

“Could you help me carry this one?” He asks.

You nod right away. It’s one of the smaller boxes, the emptiest too. It won’t even make you blink an eye with any possible discomfort.

He piles the two bigger, and fuller, boxes and grabs them, their height only reaching up to his chest. You grab the smaller one, holding it on your hip. You help Michael with the door and leave it slightly open before following him to his car.

The silence between you is not by any means uncomfortable. It’s quite comforting, actually.

Michael opens the backseat door open with some difficulty and turns back for you to give him the other box. You do it and as you’re about to turn and leave, he says something.

“Wait.” He says, making you look at him, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” You ask confused.

He doesn’t answer. He closes the door and walks over to the front seats, opening the passenger seat door, hiding whatever is in front of him with his body.

Michael turns and you have to bite your tongue to not say anything.

It’s a small bouquet of flowers, most of them being wildflowers, your favorite. The exact same ones that have quite a history when it comes to the two of you.

You and Michael didn’t argue in your relationship, but when it did happen, and when he would be the main reason behind those same fights, he would give you flowers.

It was a rare occasion for you to receive them, but this type of bouquet is Michael’s apologetic bouquet. Always has been. It has all your favorite flowers arranged just like you loved, always in the same way to show off their vibrant colors.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask and a small grin forms on his lips.

You remember them.

“The same thing as I’ve been apologizing for the past few weeks.”

You extend your hand and take the bouquet from his hand, ignoring how your hand rested right above his for some good few splits of a second.

You bring the flowers close to you, hiding any kind of positive expression, as you admire them silently.

“There’s a note inside. But you can read it later.” He lets you know.

“I will.” You say, looking back up at him, but this time, with a small grin.

He nods, small smile prominent on his lips as he does it. He looks relieved, probably because you accepted his flowers in the first place, but, also, nervous, almost like those same flowers are a ticking bomb of some sort.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You decide to say, breaking the intense stare down.

“Yeah,” He exhales, “I’ll see you later.”

To escape any possibility of another stare down, you turn on your heels and start walking towards the house. As you stand up the porch, you steal a glance over your shoulder, already finding Michael looking straight at you.

You offer him a small smile, different from the grin, and finally step into Polly’s home.

The sound of Polly’s and Finn’s voices fill your ears, and you close the door behind you, trying not to look back at Michael, who is still standing by his car.

The front door closes, slowly, and Polly lifts her gaze to meet yours, finding the slow motion and lack of slamming of her door so unlike you. You step aside into view and a gasp escapes her lips.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” She says out loud.

“I’m afraid not.” You answer, eyebrows lifted, trying to show that you’re as shocked as she is.

She stands from beside Finn, who is as shocked, and walks towards you. She takes the flowers from your hands and analyzes them.

“Let me guess.” She says with a playful tone, “Another apology?”

You chuckle at her and she smiles brightly at you.

“You’re correct.” You announce, stealing a look at Finn, who looks amused, “Might have to write this one down as the official thousandth one.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping count.” Polly jokes with you making you smile.

She walks back to the kitchen to get a vase and you follow right behind her. Finn stands from the couch and does the same as you.

Polly sets them over the kitchen counter gently and looks around for the perfect vase, one you can later take to your own home, when you’re healed.

Finn walks up to the flowers and analyzes them silently, just like Polly. He brings up his hand and carefully pulls something out, a small envelope.

“I’m sure this is for you.” He says, handing the envelope to you.

You take it into your hands and hold it carefully close to you.

Polly starts filling the vase with water and looks back at you, staring down at the small paper, just the size of your hand.

“Well, open it!”

You smile at her tone and you do as told. Finn looks at you questioningly as you undo the top and Polly stops the water from running.

You take the small note from inside the envelope and put down it down. You unfold it, careful with making it face you and you only, and as the word meets your eyes, Polly swears she sees them brighten.

Meet me behind the barns tomorrow at 3.               – M

(…)

With both Polly and Finn at work, possibly at a meeting, you’re left to stay home alone until 3. You’ve taken your time to get ready. You’ve done your make-up, nothing too intense, just your normal light look, and have gotten dressed.

A floral green dress hugs your body, nothing unlike your usual style. Not a suit, but something you would wear when out with Polly at your day’s off. And on top of that, a long dark coat, which covers your body from any cold wind.

What even is going to happen today?

You step out of Polly’s home, keys in hand and coat closed enough to protect you from the harsh wind meeting you as soon as you make your presence to the outside world.

You climb in your car. Poor thing as been sitting there by the front of the house for days now, quite sad.

As you make your way to the familiar location, Michael is standing by his car.

He didn’t expect the day to be so cold and windy, but like any other place close to Small Heath, the weather is just unpredictable.

He shakes his cigarette, letting the white and bright red ashes fly with the wind as they burn at the tip of the poisonous, yet addicting and calming, stick. His eyes are stuck on the gravel under his feet, heart ponding against his chest and with his hands shaking.

It’s like taking you on your first date all over again.

He’s just a nervous and anxious wreck.

The sound of a car door closing in the distance makes him snap back from his thoughts and look over his shoulder. You’re right there, just a few meters away from him. Your jacket is open, falling by your sides, as its material and your thin dress move with the, now, calmer wind.

“Sorry for being a little late.” You apologize and he shakes his head.

“No worries.”

He leans away from his car and walks to stand beside you. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, shielding them from the cold, and with that he takes your outfit in, finding the flowers in the fabric somewhat familiar to his gaze.

“Should we start walking?” You break his trance.

“Uh- Yeah, yeah.” He nods.

The abandoned barn stands tall beside the two of you as you walk by it. This is just outside of Small Heath. A small barn where Tommy used to have some of his horses, ones that weren’t exactly for racing. Maybe family horses… Can you even call them that?

Right behind the old structure, is a vast field. One, that for you to meet its true beauty, you have to walk for some good few minutes or well… get yourself a horse and ride for not even 3 minutes.

The green fields meet your eyes and for a second, you feel like you’ve lost your ability to breathe. The air is clearer where you stand then from whatever corner you stand in the whole Birmingham, but god, it’s breathtaking.

No sight of pollution, of smoke or even of people. Just peaceful green, tall wild grass, trees scattered through each curve of the irregular grounds.

It’s as calm as nature can be.

You walk beside Michael, both of you admiring the familiar grounds you step on, yet not opening your mouths to break such a comforting silence.

The sounds surrounding you are nothing but the patter of your feet on top of the grass, which is so tall it comes close to your upper thighs, the wind hitting the tall leaves and making them hit your legs, the branches of the trees moving and making the leaves collide with one another, and simply the wind over your ears.

Everything so silent it even makes your ears seem to vibrate.

“God, Michael, you are unbelievable.” You tell the man behind you without even looking over your shoulder.

“You were the one that had the idea!”

“And you went with it!” You say in a louder tone at him, “You’re supposed to be the one with the brains in this relationship, not me.”

The man chuckles from behind you, each of you riding your own horses as the sun shines on the two of you, marking and showing nothing but its natural beauty of the season.

“We can still go back.” He says, reigns resting by his legs, letting the horse move on its own.

“And say what?” You ask with a smile, “Yeah, sorry, Polly. The party was the most boring idea ever, and we had to walk out?”

“Something like that.”

You exhale out a chuckle and shake your head.

“Why did she even let the neighbor plan out the party?” You ask him.

You look over your shoulder to stare at your boyfriend and he’s already looking at you.

“She said something about wanting to give the woman a chance.” He shrugs, “Did you expect any less from her? She has been apologizing to my mom for the past year, this party was the least she could’ve done.”

“A cake would’ve done it.”

Michael smiles in amusement at you and you continue to look at him.

“You really think you can buy your way to my mom’s heart with a cake?”

“I did.” You say and he rolls his eyes. “And it worked.”

“It worked because you were already part of the family. And hitting my mom’s side of the car is not the same as what you did.” He says defensively.

“I think what I did was quite horrid, if you ask me.”

“I thought it was funny.” He smiles.

“Yeah, well, that’s because you like seeing your crazy family in distress and me in trouble.” You defend yourself, checking the field in front of you to see if you’re close to your destination, “Seriously, Michael, you worry me sometimes.”

A loud cackle of disbelief escapes Michael’s lips and you grin at the sound.

“You broke a vase of flowers on my cousin’s head! You didn’t destroy a whole side of a car!” He tells you and you turn back to him.

“Yeah! I know! But it still made me almost pee myself in fear when it happened.” You confess, finding it almost impossible not to laugh, “I could’ve had nightmares with what could’ve been my consequence.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

You smile and stop the horse, finally standing by the usual area.

“No, I’m just realistic.” You tell him, “Finn could’ve gotten hurt, and if he did… I could’ve been dead by now.”

“Wow!” Michael chuckles. “You’re just… out of this world.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say, finding his words, out of context, funny. “But still… I feel bad for leaving.”

“Don’t.” He says as you jump down off your horse, “My mom won’t care, and Finn left like 2 hours ago. Nobody cared.”

“Still… It’s your birthday Michael.” You tell him, “You should be celebrating it.”

Michael jumps out of his horse and brings the reigns to the front, walking over to you with the horse just a meter behind him.

As he lets go of the reigns, like any other time here, he stands tall in front of you, not caring that the horse is moving away to go eat the perfect patch of green grass not too far away. You look up at him and wait for him to say something.

“And I am.” He says, “I prefer to stay here with you, then eat whatever was on that table.”

He presses a kiss over your lips, and you gasp.

“That is mean, Michael!” You say defensively, “That woman worked very hard…! And all night!”

He thinks of what to say next for a bit.

“And you still gave the idea to leave.”

Your mouth opens in disbelief at his words.

“You’re heartless, Y/N.” He says, amusement thick on his tone, lips twitching to smile again.

You scowl and smack his chest, hard.

“You little bitch.” You curse him out, making him laugh and take a step back from you.

The silence stays thick between the two of you, yet as soon as the wind lifts off ever so slightly, Michael finds himself being curious. He steals a look your away and notices you’re walking while staring down at the grass.

“You’re quiet.” Michael comments out loud, snapping you back to reality.

You blink your thoughts away and quickly lift your head ever so slightly, not enough to stare at him but enough to see how much you still have to walk.

“So are you.” You whisper back at him, soft grin on your lips, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

You look over at him, ignoring your overthinking mind that hesitates so much to do it, and to your surprise, he’s already looking at you.

“About…” You sigh stretching out the word in your lips, shifting your gaze forward once more, finding his eyes intrusive for some reason, “Old times?” You answer as a question, unsure. “The past few days have made me kind of stuck in memories, I guess.”

He nods, even though you’re not looking at him anymore, and also brings his gaze away from you to stare at the greenery at his front.

“That makes two of us.” He confesses.

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah” He nods, again.

You nod, pursing your lips while saying to yourself mentally ‘who would’ve thought you’re not the only crazy one’, and, in a quick decision, you decide to blur out whatever is on your mind.

“Mine were actually about, uhm…” You hesitate, catching yourself and your urges midsentence, and Michael notices, bringing his gaze back to you, “That one time we both came here-” You sigh when lost for words and you shake your head slightly with a scowl.

Your discomfort over your own troubling thoughts doesn’t go unnoticed by Michael, and he decides to ease up some of it with his words.

“One time? Out of the thousand times we came here?”

You look back at him and feel yourself relax at his playful tone.

“Yeah. It was a quite special day, actually.” You add.

A full-on smile appears on the man’s face, pearly white teeth out to show amusement at your words.

“Again. Which one out of the hundreds of days like that?”

Your heart tightens at his words and you welcome them with a smile, shaking your head at his comment. Your hand lifts and lays over his arm, pushing him away from you as playful push for him to shup up such nonsense.

Michael looks down as the smile on his face stretches and a chuckle escape both of your mouths.

Your playful touch had been missed, and his body made it obvious to him. The way it warmed up and boiled after so many years of pure and utter cold.

Your hand falls back to your side as you two continue to walk in silence, eyes focusing on the path ahead.

In a simple matter of seconds, you find yourselves looking at each other, silently. Almost as if admiring one another.

“It was your birthday.” You admit, “The year before you left.”

“Why that one?”

You shrug, checking if you’re still too far from your destination.

“I don’t know. It just came to me for some reason.”

He nods and you steal a glance at his smiling self.

“Was it the amazing food that we loved so much that we had to run off?” He starts, “Or was it the amazing entertainment it was given to us throughout the evening?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and a weight lifts off Michael’s shoulders. How relaxing it feels.

“God, don’t remind me of that.” You say to him.

“Why? Is the awfully well decorated cake hunting your mind?”

Another chuckle leaves you and you roll your eyes.

“I see that you’re just as mean as before when it comes to analyzing other people’s hard work.” You joke with him and he smiles down at you.

“Guess so.”

Silence falls back in between you and you two walk calmly again, nothing rushing you to leave and get to the usual spot any quicker.

“What about you? What memories of the old times have been hunting you?” You jokingly ask.

“There have been a lot of them.”

“What was the last one you thought off?” You ask, trying to ease the question for him.

“Our first date.”

You snap your head at him, not expecting him to also confess that he was thinking of two of you, and he smiles at your reaction.

“Why?”

“I was shitting my pants before coming in here. Was scared you would bail on me. Just like I felt in our first date.” He confesses and you scowl.

There’s a silence of a few seconds before you decide to break it with your curiosity.

“Why would I bail on you?”

He scoffs.

“We both know the answer to that question.”

Silence.

Back to complete and utter silence, yet this time. It’s not as comfortable.

The sweet and loving conversation has died down with the slight indirect mention of how your relationship came to an end.

The patter of your feet is all you hear but also all you prefer to look at in this moment.

Michael steals a glance at you and notices the way you hesitate to look up.

He curses himself in his head and his smile is back down, dead, with no reason to come back so soon.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No.” You cut him off, “Don’t worry about that.” You stuff your hands back in the pockets of your jacket. “We had to talk about that sooner or later.”

He nods and you look up, seeing him do it.

“We’re getting close.” He announces, making you look up.

Oh God, you missed this.

The fields look the same, just as green and still with small specks of color from the wildflowers. The trees seem to have gotten bigger and fluffier in a way, but they’re still standing tall and creating the perfect little hidden spot between them.

Exactly where you and Michael used always sit.

Michael notices that you had stopped walking after taking a few steps alone, and when he looks back over his shoulder at you.

Memories and all types of emotions erupt through your body harshly. You breathe in deeply, eyes showing the slightest bit of tears of which you can not tell if it’s either sadness or happiness to be back after so long.

Michael notices your different mood, yet he doesn’t understand what is going on. He turns to you completely, having his back to the familiar fields to check on you and his eyes are stuck.

Your eyes are filled with emotion, a soft scowl is written over your face, decorating it. Your body seems to shake slightly at the wind that seems to love to come back at unfortunate moments, and you’re just there. Standing and staring.

You break from your trance as something in front of you appears. You look down to see Michael extending his hand to you, face soft with a comforting expression.

You lay your hand over his, taking it out of your warm pocket and Michael pulls you in further to take steps closer to your destination.

You do as he does while your hands fall connected by your sides. Your eyes are focused on them, staring down as if to check if it’s real or just like in your nightmares, realistic, yet so far deep in your mind that it will bring you great terror in a space of seconds.

Slowly, you get closer to the scenery you had just stared in the distance, and you start to notice small details. There are not as many flowers since autumn is still very much present in this day, yet the place is just as warm and welcoming, still shielding you from most of the cold wind.

Your hand stays connected with Michael’s even when you stand between the familiar trees, neither of you feeling capable enough to pull away yet. Your other hand reaches and touches the trunk of the tree you used to always sit next to.

It feels so unreal that you almost have to pinch yourself.

“Feels weird to stand here.” You confess.

Michael steps closer to you and nods.

“It’s been a long time.”

“A bit too long, maybe.” You add and he agrees again with a nod, “We used to almost come here everyday before winter. I missed it.”

You look up to meet Michael’s eyes and their icy blue color meets your gaze right away. They’re soft, familiar, and comforting.

“Want to sit?” He asks you, eyes still connected.

You nod and he lets go of your hand, for your (big) disappointment.

Michael takes a seat next to the tree and lays his back against it, and you’re quick to follow him, sitting by him, legs to your side as you adjust the thin fabric of your dress.

Michael sighs and your eyes find him again, he looks nervous. More than you.

“I should be the one to start talking.” He whispers, making you tilt your head as if to signalize that you’re listening, “I… Uhm… I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning would be great.” You joke, gaining a playfully annoyed look from him, “Okay… Uhm…”

You think for a second. Would it be too harsh id you just asked it?

“Why did you do it?”

Michael holds in a gasp at your sudden and direct question, and you continue to stare at him. He notices how you’re analyzing his face, from hair to chin, from ear to ear.

You’re studying him intensely, trying to find the answer yourself in his features.

“It’s stupid.” He says to you.

“I don’t care.” You admit, “I just want to know why.”

He has said, weeks prior, that he did not know why he had done it, which did lead you to scream at him and throw a plate at his head.

But you didn’t believe him, not even a bit. And the fact that he is hesitating to say it out loud now, it’s just a clear reason that good things surely aren’t going to come from his mouth.

“I did it be- because… Fuck.” He comments mid-sentence, shaking his head, finding his nerves ridiculous, “I did it because I couldn’t focus at work.” He licks his lips, eyes still focused on you, “Every time you called was awful. I felt helpless when you would tell me that you missed me and that you were worried about me.”

He sighs and you look at him confused.

“I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t hear you tell me to be careful anymore. I knew I was going to get hurt at one point- It’s bad, I know it is, but I- I just couldn’t deal with your calls… They just made me want to come back home every time, and I… I knew couldn’t.” He confesses, stressed with his own words.

What the fuck is he saying?

“I started to worry about myself. I-I would panic because I was scared that I wouldn’t come back at one point… If I got too hurt or- you know.”

You stay silent.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He tells you.

Silent is set between you two again, and you, honestly, just want to hit him.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” You curse at him.

He doesn’t say anything back, yet his mind is filled with questions: did I say enough? Did I say too much? Do I look or sound as much of an asshole as I feel like I do?

God, his words sounded so much better in his mind. Now it just all sounds like… He’s stupid, that’s what he sounds like.

You can’t believe him for a few good seconds.

For so long, you made yourself think so many awful things about yourself, and now you know you weren’t even the exact cause of the problem.

He didn’t break up with you because were too clingy or too annoying over the phone, it was because you were making him… be careful?

“What did you want from that one call?” You question, “And be honest.” You sound calm, surprisingly. “Just me to stop calling?”

“No.” He scowls at you, “I expected you to move along with your life. Find someone else.”

Oh, and the urge to punch him intensifies.

“I knew it would take time, but… I wanted you to find someone better, to just live your life.” He says sincerely and you continue to stare at him. “God, this sounds dumb but… It would be better for you to have someone in case I would never come back…” He sighs, “Does that even make sense?”

You don’t answer him, so he continues.

“When you stopped calling. I thought that’s what had happened.”

Calling after his final call, he means.

“God, Michael...” You exhale, looking away from him and shaking your head.

“It’s stupid of me, I know.” He comments to you, “I’m really sorry.”

His voice is small in the middle of your silence. It’s thick with emotion and you just know that he is beating himself for it still. For everything that he has done and stopped doing for the past few months.

His thoughts are degrading in every way possible. Michael can’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be. He knows you went through really rough few months because of him, now. Thoughts like his shouldn’t even be compared to something as small as a pinch.

You look back at him, yet your eyes don’t meet his. His gaze is focused on something in the distance, mind completely filled with thoughts you’re sure that you’re too familiar with.

“I’m going to forgive you. Not now, but I will.” You confess, “It will just take a bit of time on my part.”

Michael clenches his jaw, not really believing you for a second.

Is it bad that he doesn’t feel like he deserves it? He just gave you the most half assed justification and apology, yet you are still thinking about forgiving him?

Like, what the fuck?

“My ego is just too big for me to forgive you so soon.” You crack up a joke.

The slightest of curve appears over Michael’s lips, but his eyes still don’t go to you. You scratch the side of your neck and without him noticing, you shift to sit closer to him.

You look back at him before starting to talk again.

“Just so you know.” You start, “Your plan didn’t really work… I didn’t move on after… After you ended things.” You whisper.

His head snaps back at you and you hold a comforting look to welcome his eyes back to your own.

You don’t want him to feel worse, you really don’t want to. What’s done is done. Both of you can’t go back in time to change anything.

“You didn’t?”

“No.” You chuckle.

“Why not?”

“Fucking Birmingham men are disgusting.” You justify with a disgusted look on your face. “And I was already working for your family when I was feeling more… okay, so, I had to stay here, stuck with the sight of either saggy old men or just way too cocky younger men.”

He grins slightly at your distaste for the locals, and you offer him a smile.

“I am, supposedly, from Birmingham” He says, trying to sound offended, “And you dated me just fine.”

“Yeah, well…” You comment with a cringe and his grin grows, “You’re still three quarters a country boy, so you don’t really count.”

He rolls your eyes at you and you hit your shoulder with his playfully, swaying to force his stiff body to move a bit.

But, even with the playful mood and slight grin, he still looks hesitant.

“What’s done is done, Michael. The best thing we can do now is learn from it.” You tell him with a soft voice.

He just stares down at you.

“And just so you know, I should be upset at you. I feel like I should. And don’t get me wrong, I want to beat you up for being this stupid.” You confess, “God, you were supposed to be the smart one in all of this.” You add, exhaling your words.

He doesn’t say anything.

“And the reason why I’m not mad is that it has been a long time. I took a long time to heal and grow as a person.” You continue, “I just feel like all of that would’ve gone to waste if I became upset over the reason why it all happened.”

Still nothing from him.

“Blaming and hating ourselves doesn’t get us nowhere, you know?” You ask, “Especially hating other people. It’s just so stupid. Life is fucking shit. It is, but-” You sigh. “I don’t have to hate you for it, or… blame you for it.”

Where the hell are you going with this? Michael asks himself.

“You moved on, right?” You ask rhetorically, “Maybe it was meant to be.” You shrug, “Sure, it was a little harsh, but you found Gina. If you hadn’t made that last call to end…” You move your finger around to point at the two of you, “this… You would’ve been still dating me and not been able to be with her.”

Your words sort of hurt Michael. It is the truth, everything is true. If it weren’t for that last call, he wouldn’t have looked or thought of any other women but you.

No Gina, no nobody. Just you.

But is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?

His heart still beats for you, he knows he still feels for you. Every day that passes, it gets more and more intense. The same way his love for Gina disappears, yours grow.

It’s like his heart is pushing Gina away and open back the space that you once used to own and rule.

“What?” You question when noticing that Michael has been staring down at you and hasn’t said a thing.

“I still feel like I would’ve taken back what I did.” He confesses.

“And what about Gina?”

He shakes his head dismissively.

“She would’ve been fine without me.”

There’s a silence between you two again, and you’re just registering what has said and trying not to take it in a certain very biased way. All of that while he just stares at nothing.

“Where is she, by the way?” You ask curiously, “You’ve barely spent any time at the hotel lately.”

Michael scowls at thought about the fight they had in Polly’s kitchen.

“Yeah… We’re going through a rough patch, right now.”

“Really?” You ask and he nods, “God, you guys went from happily engaged to this in what…? A month and a half?”

He sends you a slight glare.

“What? It’s true.”

“What happened to not hate others? And that that will get you nowhere?” He comments and a smile grows on your face.

“Yeah, well…” You chuckle, “I don’t hate her. I just… dislike her. She was rude to me.” You smile at him, “But, seriously, I really don’t like her. At all. Like god damnit, Michael, I’m sorry to say, but you sure don’t know how to pick them.”

A big chuckle escapes Michael and you smile at him triumphantly. He shakes his head at you and brings his gaze back to yours.

“I picked you. For years.”

“Yeah, and that’s why that’s obviously the highlight of your life.” You say nodding at him, and his lips finally stretch into a smile.

Who knew insulting him would’ve fixed his sad mood?

You bring your hand up and hesitatingly, you lay it over his, letting your fingers find their way to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger, sliding into his palm and giving it a squeeze.

Michael’s eyes move to your hands and you hold your breath, scared that he will pull away.

His eyes slowly come back up to you and they’re as soft as you’ve ever seen them. He holds your fingers and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly.

You give him a small smile and he exchanges hands, connecting your left hand with his right so it’s more comfortable to him.

He intertwines your fingers, slowly, and his movements are the slowest you’ve ever seen them, yet they’re sweet. Letting your fingers slide and fall themselves in between his or yours.

“I missed you.” He whispers under his breath, making you look up at him again. “A lot.”

You grin at him and give his hand a squeeze as your answer.

You don’t know it, but Michael is biting his tongue to not apologize to you again. The urge to do it is stronger than him.

It’s like if he repeats it for as many times possible, you will eventually forget what he did.

He doesn’t want you do forgive him. He wants you to just forget it. Act as if everything as always been perfect.

“I substituted you with Finn, so I can’t say the same.” You say playfully, making his lips pull up again.

“I noticed. Weirdest fucking pair, I swear.” He scoffs.

“Jealousy is a serious disease, Michael.” You comment back, nodding.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

“Excuse me?” You ask confused, yet still smiling.

“You’ve barely had a full conversation with Gina, but you just told me you ‘dislike’ her.” He says, amused tone, “Sounds like jealousy to me.”

You laugh at him and shake your head.

“Wow! You really are crazy.” You say, making him smile, “Must have been the air in New York. Probably messed your brain up.”

“Stop” He pokes your leg with his other hand, “Insulting.” Another poke, “Me.” Another poke. “It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you smiling so brightly at me, hey?” You ask with as just as big of a smile.

You two stare at each other with the smiles on your faces and your heart quickens at the sudden change of atmosphere. Everything seems so perfect between you two. Gina doesn’t seem like a barrier between you two anymore.

It’s like old times.

“Are you still marrying Gina?” You catch yourself asking.

His eyes widen slightly at your sudden question and your smile falls slightly. You’re embarrassed at the sudden slip of words but it’s already too late.

“I’m not sure.” He answers.

You react shocked at his answer. What is happening?

Both of your hearts are almost coming out of your chests, it’s like they’re going to explode if a specific confession escapes both your lips.

“Why?” You whisper, your voice failing you.

“I don’t-” He thinks for a second, “I don’t think I love her anymore.”

You hold in a sigh and continue to listen to him.

“I’ve been telling myself that she has changed ever since we got here, but…” He pauses, searching your face for any hesitation, “I think she has been like this all along. And all that has changed as been that-” He suddenly stops.

“That what?” You whisper, almost feeling out of breath.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop comparing her to you. Or look at her and just… wish that she’s you.”

Your breathing is heavy, almost like you’re fighting the weight of a thousand stones on your chest. Everything is going on too quickly, but all you feel is relief.

“What are you saying, Michael?” You ask, voice falling into a whisper again.

He stays silent, almost as if rethinking about what he’s about to say.

Your eyes unconsciously lower to Michael’s lips and his smile as fallen as well. He’s serious. Your breathing has gotten quicker without you even realizing, and when your eyes go back to Michael’s, you find him doing the same thing.

“I love you.”

You stop breathing, shock erupting through your system.

“I never stopped loving you. Never. I’ve been lying to myself for all this time, trying to make myself believe that I was happy with Gina but I’m not.” He says, “I’m not happy with anyone else but you. Because I can only love you. Only you. Nobody else.”

He said it.

He said everything that has been troubling his mind for so long. He finally said it.

He said what you have been dreaming that he would say for the longest time. You almost can’t believe this is reality. Your body has gone numb, your heart is beating at an insane speed.

It all just feels so unreal.

Michael’s mind is going at miles a second, overthinking ever curve of emotion in your face. Every twitch, every slight movement in your hand still holding his, now more loosely than before.

What if he spoke too soon? What if he just… destroyed everything you two could’ve still shared. You probably don’t even think about him in that way anymore. All that could’ve been shared as just friends was all destroyed now with his confession.

The confession you have waited for so long and expected it to never be real. The confession of his love for you.

You take a deep breath, feeling Michael tense up next to you at what seems like a way to compose yourself into talking again, and suddenly you let go of his hand.

Michael almost gasps at the lack of your natural warmth against his palm and his heart begins to break, threatening to shatter with just a simple movement.

And then, you just bring your hand behind his neck and pull him towards you, letting your lips connect like the old times. Like the old times you have been visiting lately in your mind for this long and painful time.

It all feels like fireworks are erupting through your body, pinching your muscles and making them rise awake to reality.

You and Michael don’t move for a few quick seconds, but as soon as his lips move and his head tilted slightly to the side, you felt like you could cry.

His nose scrapes your cheek as you kiss sweetly and slowly, and Michael’s hands find their way to you. You gasp against his lips as his hands touch your waist and the thin, almost see-through, fabric of your dress does you no justice.

You bring both of your hands to his face and cup it close to you as he pulls you in to him with his hands. You sit on your knees, rising and your lips disconnect with the sudden movement.

You meet his eyes before you move any further and you feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Michael pulls you in and you move to straddle his lap, his eyes run through your body, eyeing every bit of skin his eyes can lay on as you move, and your jacket opens naturally. You lean your lips to his again and he is the one to begin the kiss this time. His fingers dig deliciously into the ribs by your waist and your hands go up to his hair.

His hands drag from your waist to your hips and down your legs, rising your dress to finally touch your skin. Its warmth is so familiar and so calming that Michael feels like he could pass out right in that second.

You gasp as his grip on your upper thighs intensifies and you pull away slightly. There is absolutely no regret or shame in both of your stares, absolutely nothing. Michael brings his hands up and slides the jacket off your shoulders.

You let him take it off and he lays it by his side, a hand comes to rest over your back and in the matter of a second, you’re laying on your back on the cold but dry ground while Michael is hovering over you.

Michael connects your lips again and you smile into the kiss. His lips as just as soft as you remember them, and he still kisses in the same way. You feel like you’re in a dream all over again.

He pushes away and before you could even open your eyes, his mouth starts pressing soft and wet kisses all over your neck. Your hand moves back to his hair and he slowly leaves a trail down your jaw and neck down to your exposed chest, savoring absolutely every bit of soft exposed skin.

You pull down the collar of his blazer and he seems to get the hint, because he lifts off you, making your body erupt into shivers from the cold. He takes off his jacket and throws it next to you, and as his hands work down his waistcoat, your lips find their way to him again.

A soft inhale of air escapes Michael’s mouth at the feeling of your lips and he’s quick to take off another layer of his suit, not caring if he rips a button or not. He lays you back down and follows you to the ground, holding himself up by his arms and laying right in the middle of your legs.

You two smile at each other as soon as your noses touch and the sound of a soft peck interrupts the silence.

Michael is completely lost in the bliss of the moment, just savoring every single second of it. While you still believe you’re in shock with whatever is going on.

Months prior to this you would’ve passed out with just the idea of seeing Michael again, and probably even punch yourself if you knew what would happen later on, or now. But, god, you couldn’t care less, now.

With only an arm holding him up, Michael squeezes the soft skin of your thigh and starts layering the skin close to your neck with kisses all over again. You, impatient as one can be, lay your hand over his and pull it further towards you.

The dress falls to your hips and exposes your skin to the cold evening. Both of your hands play with the buttons on Michael’s shirt before being able to pull it off him and expose his chest to you.

He presses a kiss onto your lips again and sits up on his knees, pulling away from the kiss and staring as if to make sure this isn’t his mind playing tricks on him and it’s really you.

He discards his shirt to one of his sides, not really caring if it will fly with the wind and it will lose it forever.

“What do you mean ‘okay’, Michael?” You ask, confused, staring at the plain wall in front of you.

“I’m agreeing with what you said. Maybe it is true.” He says through the phone, “You keep on calling me every day-”

“What?” You ask, scowling, “I haven’t called in so long… You-you haven’t picked up any of my calls… Michael, I just want to check on you.”

“I am fucking working, Y/N- God. It’s always the same thing. You’re always fucking checking on me. I. Am. Fine.” He says with the most arrogant and angry tone you’ve ever heard him with.

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re almost across the world, Michael, the only thing I can do is call you.” You defend yourself, shaking your head in confusion, “We haven’t talked in months.”

“I just. I just want you to stop it, okay?” He questions. “I am so done with this. With you making everything seem like such a big and dangerous thing when it never is. You just keep on distracting me all the time. I need to work.”

“What?”

“You did it just now. I went to work today, like any other day. Stayed on my office, did what I was supposed to do. What Tommy ordered me to do. I just told you that I had someone on my office, and you got all fucking worried- like Jesus, Y/N.” He takes a deep breath, “This is my job. I need to do this-”

“I know.”

“You don’t seem like you do.” He continues, “You’re constantly asking and-”

“That’s not true-”

“But it is. Every time you call, it’s always this same thing… I’m tired.” He sighs his words at the end.

You stay silent for a few seconds, letting his words sink in.

“I’m… just worried about you.” You whisper and he sighs, “I- I didn’t mean to-to interrupt you or to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Tears well up at your eyes and a small shaky breath escapes your mouth, yet it isn’t picked up by the phone.

Michael stays silent as well, making your heart ache more by each second.

You blink your tears away and look up at the window beside you, letting the streetlights shine into your cold and lonely room.

Your bed is still made. The wind of the winter is still hitting the old windows harshly, making them whistle as they hold themselves together. But that is all you have, their whistle and the soft lighting.

Other than that, is you and your silence.

“Well, if I’m such a burden to you then maybe it’s better if we stop talking to each other.” You let the hurtful words escape your mouth before you could even catch them. Too late to take them back.

You don’t hear anything from the other side of the call. For a few seconds you believe that Michael had ended the call before you even said anything else, but his voice comes back.

His voice comes back and shatters the silence with the bitter truth.

“Okay.”

And after that, all Michael heard was the small and weak beeps signalizing the end of the call. Signalizing the end of you and him ever being together. Signalizing the end of your long relationship.

And the supposed end of your love for him and his love for you. Just… the end.

You tilt your head to the side as Michael continues to kiss down your neck and you close your eyes. Your hand is lost on his hair as you get lost in thought. Why does the memory need to come back now?

Michael lifts his head and looks down at you. The look on your eyes confused him and he pulls back to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, fearing the worst.

You don’t answer, yet your hand moves to cup the side of his face. He leans closer to your palm and your heart tightens.

He’s sorry. He apologized. He regrets it. He wants to take it back. Michael. Your Michael wants to take it back.

You pull him closer to you and you reconnect your lips with his. The kiss is soft all over again and the feeling is enough to push all those awful memories and thoughts away.

Your hands travel down his cheeks to his neck and lightly travel down to his chest and his stomach. Your feather like touch makes Michael’s skin erupt into chills from how soft and light it is.

“I love you.” You whisper into his lips.

He looks at you in the eyes and whispers his answer back.

“And I love you.”

Your fingers fidget with the button of his pants and soon unbutton it with a quick movement. Michael looks down at your hands and smiles, looking back up and presses a kiss onto your jaw.

He pulls away, and without wasting any more time or feeding more into your impatience, he takes a hold of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your underwear and your stomach. Michael takes a hold of the sides of your undergarments and pulls them down your smooth legs.

The cold air and the sight steal small, almost inaudible, gasps from the two of you. Another piece of clothing flies off to the side, which makes you chuckle slightly, and Michael smiles at the sound of your laughter.

You stare up at the tree above you for a second and you soon feel soft kisses being pressed at the bottom of your stomach. It has been long enough since you’ve felt something like this, yet it feels familiar, which makes sense.

It is still Michael. It has just been a long time.

“Michael,” You call out of him, holding yourself up by your elbows, “There’s no time for this, please.”

You didn’t have to say twice, because Michael quickly rose his body back up and pressed a kiss into your lips again.

There’s the sound of his zipper and soon the shifting of fabric and while lost in the kiss, Michael lays you back on the ground comfortably. His hand grabs into your leg and squeezes it softly, feeling himself lost for a second as your soft hands travel through his skin.

You gasp into the kiss as you feel him press into your entrance and Michael clenches his jaw at the sudden warmth touching him. You pull him close to you and Michael’s spear hand almost digs into the ground as he hides his head on your neck.

His other hand aligns him and slowly, he moves his hips towards yours. You groan lowly at the intrusion and he stops, giving you time as he doesn’t you to feel any kind of discomfort.

Your hand, that holds the back of Michael’s head, closes and he moves slightly again, moving in closer and closer to you, taking your movements as a hint for him to keep going. His cock slowly sliding into you, inch by inch, letting your warmth and wetness envelop him into its familiar hold that he so missed.

You gasp and he holds himself steady right as your take him all in. He lifts his head to check on you and his lips pepper your skin with soft kisses, some lost in his uneven breathing as he does so.

“You can move.” You whisper at him.

He doesn’t say anything, he lifts a few inches away from you and his hand comes back to your thigh. His movements start and they soon become thrusts.

Your soft gasps evolve into moans and Michael swears he’s dreaming. Your sounds are complete music to his ears, making them vibrate at the sweetness they carry, and, god, he had missed this.

Slowly, his thrusts start to accelerate, and your eyes force themselves closed. The way Michael’s hips hit yours and the way you squeeze him is driving the both of you insane. Your nails are digging into his arm as a small ball of pleasure starts to build up at the end of your stomach.

Michael lifts his arm and lays his hand beside your head. He eyes your body, still covered by the almost see-through fabric.

His breathing his loud and the sound of your bodies colliding with each other is all that fills your ears. His hand lets go of your leg and goes to your waist, his eyes analyzing your chest.

Michael presses a kiss on your sternum, over your dress and you arch your back at the feeling of his soft and warm lips. He clenches his jaw as the fabric stretches and exposes your chest to him, braless, nipples peeking through and appearing noticeable.

A shear layer of sweat covers the top of Michael’s forehead as the wind cools the warmth the both of you are creating. He lowers his head again and kisses you over the fabric of your dress that hugs your body so beautifully.

He looks down at where the two of you connect and a groan escapes his lips.

He, without any warning, grabs into your leg again and pulls up to your chest, letting another soft moan escape your mouth.

“Fuck, Michael…” You whisper at him.

He lifts off you and brings his other hand to your other leg. Still thrusting into your pussy, the sight as just improved to Michael, while you are lost at the difference it made to just rise your legs.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He mumbles at you, voice almost breaking into a whisper from his heavy breathing.

You throw your head back as his movements speed up and the pleasure in you intensifies.

After so long, it almost feels unreal to feel such emotion. It is more than pleasure, it’s an explosion of emotions.

All of those same emotions have been bottled up at the back of your mind and long forgotten, almost as if you had dismissed them because you didn’t believe you would ever feel them ever again.

But they are back and you’re feeling them at such a rate that you feel like tears are starting to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

You’ve probably thought this a thousand times, but, god, it feels like you’re dreaming. You pray that this won’t end in any way close to how your dreams usually do, but in a way, you’re not worried.

You don’t fear a bad ending in this, you don’t feel scared or anxious. You feel good. You feel happy and loved. Loved by someone who has shown way more love to you than any other person.

Someone you would vow to never stop loving if it meant that he will never leave your side. Someone that has never belonged to someone the same way he has belonged to you. No matter who has or will come in between you, you know the truth and you believe that it is the truth.

He loves you. He hurt you, but he loves you. He showed he was sorry, he apologized- Jesus, he saved your life. He didn’t let you die in his arms. He cried and feared your death right when you were bleeding a puddle into the ground.

Michael belongs to you and nobody else. He knows it, and he has told that himself that many times before. Now more than ever.

He belongs to you and you belong to him. And that is just how it is, and how it always will be.

A/N.: I am not going to lie... I cried when proofreading Michael’s confession about his feelings. I’m such a cry baby, god.

[Sorry that the apology part was so shit. I, myself, struggled with justify that shit and got myself annoyed with it.]

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