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kaira-diaries · 24 days ago

Text

Backstabber: part two

warning: || mentions of trauma/violence || fluff ||mentions of smut || yearning angst || mentions of anxiety/panic attack ||

pairing: fem!reader x In-ho

wc: 9.7k

a/n: ok ok i know the gif is Mr. Sunshine but rn for the story we're just going to pretend it's not. Was severely hungover while writing this but alas! we got it done. This has been a long time coming & happy reading! (also, is college kicking anyone else's ass already?)

summary: after the events of the games y/n finds herself trying to get back to normalcy and move past the pain of it all, but finds herself back at square one because of a certain someone (wink wink)

-> read part one here <-

-> masterlist <-

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The city glowed in a kaleidoscope of colors, each hue of the rainbow shimmering like liquid fire against the slick pavement. Neon signs pulsed with life, their reflections stretching and warping in the puddles that pooled on the streets. The rainfall tapped rhythmically against the windshield as the rivulets of water distorted the view outside. Through the blurred glass, the vibrant lights fractured into streaks, painting the dark skyline in smudged prisms of gold, crimson, and indigo.

Your heart swelled with a deep, comforting joy as you drove through the city.

The evening had been perfect—your father was more vibrant and full of life than you’d ever seen, his laughter echoing in your mind like a melody. Your mother’s eyes sparkled with a youthful radiance, her smile brighter than it had been in years, carrying you back to the carefree days of your childhood. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

When you returned home from the games a year ago, you and Mina made a quiet, resolute decision to sever ties with the relentless chaos of city life. Together, you retreated to the countryside, finding solace in a small, sunlit apartment nestled among rolling hills and whispering trees. The reason was undeniable: the city was haunted. Every corner, every shadow seemed to echo with memories of him—his laughter, his absence, the pain he left behind. It was suffocating, an endless maze of reminders too overwhelming to bear.

So, you both sought a fresh start in a place neither of you had ever called home. The countryside offered a fragile peace, with its golden fields swaying in the breeze and its nights bathed in quiet starlight. Yet, no matter how far you ran, the games had marked you. Their weight lingered in the quiet moments, carving scars so deep you often wondered if they’d ever fade. They had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully articulate, reshaping your very soul, leaving you to navigate a new life that felt as unfamiliar as the land beneath your feet.

Yes, the city haunted you more than you cared to admit, its streets brimming with ghosts of a life you couldn’t outrun. Yet, no matter how heavy the weight of its memories, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—keep away from your parents. They had been your anchor, their concern cutting through your walls with relentless questions about In-ho. What had happened to him? Where had he gone? Were you okay? You could only muster a half-truth, your voice steady but hollow: “He’s okay. We just broke it off. It’s what’s best—so he could focus on his business.” It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The way their eyes lingered on you, filled with implicit understanding, told you they knew better. Yet, the quiet pain etched into your face kept them from prying further.

Now, behind the wheel, your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you approached a red light, the tension in your shoulders mounting as you flinched. A black sedan pulled up too close to your rear bumper, its sleek frame barely visible in your rain-speckled mirror. Your stomach tightened, a chill crawling up your spine, familiar yet unwelcome. You sighed, a long, unsteady exhale, the weight of recognition settling over you. You knew this feeling. You knew him.

As the light flickered green, you pressed on, refusing to look back, your foot steady on the gas. The city’s glow blurred in the corners of your vision, but you didn’t spare an ounce of energy on the creeping dread that clung to you like a shadow. Not tonight. Not now. You moved forward, letting the rhythm of the rain and the hum of the engine carry you through the labyrinth of streets, your focus on the road ahead and nothing else.

You were nearing the edge of the city when your eyes caught sight of the gallery, its elegant facade proudly displaying your name in bold, polished letters. It should have felt like triumph, like validation, but all it brought was a fragile kind of grounding, tethering you to the moment before your thoughts spiraled. It was Mina who had believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself, who pushed you to pick up the brush again, to pour your fractured soul into something tangible. Without her, you doubted you would’ve had the strength to confront the canvas.

Growing up, you’d been told over and over that art was a pipe dream, a risky gamble that only fools and dreamers dared chase. But after coming so close to death, what was left to fear? You found the courage—or perhaps the desperation—to create again. Yet, no amount of bravery could erase the color red from your world.

Red.

The very thought of it was a visceral wound, one that tore through you without warning. It wasn’t just a color—it was a specter of guilt, a reminder of lives lost in the cruelest ways. You had seen it splattered across your skin, warm and unrelenting, as innocent eyes stared back at you, lifeless and unblinking. Red was not paint; it was blood. It was screams. It was nightmares.

Now, it was banished. Banished from your paintings, your wardrobe, your home—your entire existence. The sight of it made your stomach twist and your chest ache, the weight of memory crashing over you like a tidal wave. The gallery was proof of your survival, but the absence of red was proof of your scars, the kind that no brushstroke could ever cover.

The breeze wove through your long hair like a gentle whisper as you cracked a window. It was cool and invigorating as you left the city’s glow behind. The hum of your car faded into the rhythm of nature, and the road ahead curved through rolling hills cloaked in darkness. The earth seemed to rise and fall around you, cradling you in its quiet embrace as you drew closer to home.

Above, the night sky stretched endlessly, a masterpiece painted in shades of inky black and deep indigo. The moon hung low and luminous, its surface dappled with grey and white, casting a soft silver light over the landscape. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across its face, their edges glowing faintly as if kissed by moonlight. Far in the distance, the horizon blurred into a dreamy collage of shadowy mountains and faintly silhouetted buildings, their shapes barely discernible against the star-strewn canvas above.

The scene was mesmerizing, a quiet symphony of beauty that filled the silence in your car and kept your thoughts company. For twenty blissful minutes, you soaked in the view, letting it anchor you in the present and wash away the weight of the day. When you finally turned into your driveway, the familiar sight of your home greeted you, nestled in the hills like a haven waiting to welcome you back.

Stepping through the front door, you let out a tired sigh, kicking off your shoes with a dull thud against the wall. The click of the lock behind you echoed in the quiet house as you shrugged off your pink jacket, the fabric still damp from the night rain. You hung it on the hook beside Mina’s oversized sweater, the two garments swaying gently together like old friends. The promise of relaxation beckoned as you made your way into the living room—until the scene before you sent a jolt through your system.

Your pulse leaped as you froze in place, a startled yelp escaping your lips. “Oh my god!” you exclaimed, spinning on your heel to shield your vision, hand slapping over your eyes. It was Mina—and her boyfriend, James—entwined on the couch, caught mid-act in a moment that no amount of bleach could ever scrub from your memory.

Mina let out a mortified shriek of her own, scrambling off James with the grace of a cat caught stealing food. She grabbed for a blanket nearby, throwing it over herself with a flushed face and wide eyes. “Jesus, Mina, my eyes!” you groaned, your voice dripping with disbelief and exasperation.

Snorting despite her embarrassment, Mina shot back, “Could’ve made yourself known, babe!”

You scoffed, still shielding your face. “Could’ve taken your boyfriend to the privacy of your damn room!” Your voice wavered between frustration and sheer mortification as you heard a muffled laugh from James.

Finally, Mina muttered something about being "decent," and you cautiously dropped your hand, still squinting in case of lingering trauma. Your gaze landed on James, who leaned back on the couch with an infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

“James,” you said flatly, your expression twisted in barely concealed disgust.

“Y/N,” he replied coolly, nodding his head like this was the most casual encounter in the world.

Five minutes later, James slipped out the door, murmuring something vague about an early workday. You didn’t bother to reply; the sound of the latch clicking shut was far more satisfying than anything you could have said. In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, staring at the stove as the kettle slowly heated. The soft hiss of water simmering filled the quiet space, and the faint aroma of ginger tea grounds you. It was exactly what you needed after… that.

Mina emerged from her room in a plush robe, her damp hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. She hummed a cheerful tune, completely unbothered by the awkwardness of earlier. Spotting you at the stove, she grinned and opened the cabinet, pulling down a mug. “Ooh, make me some too,” she chimed, her voice light and casual. Without waiting for a response, she settled onto the couch, her notebook and a mess of papers spread across the cushions as she began flipping through her homework.

Despite her antics, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride as you watched her. Mina, for all her reckless decisions and impulsive streaks, had come a long way. The debts that once weighed her down like a ball and chain were gone, erased thanks to the money In-ho had given her—a bittersweet reminder of him. She’d left her destructive gambling habits in the past, choosing instead to enroll in college and focus on building something real for herself. You admired her for it, even if she still did dumb things like… well, five minutes ago.

The sharp whistle of the kettle snapped you back to the present. You turned off the burner and poured the steaming water over the ginger tea bags, the fragrant steam curling in the air as you filled both mugs. Carefully, you carried them to the coffee table, setting one in front of Mina before claiming your own.

Instead of sitting on the couch beside her, you chose the floor, folding your legs under you and leaning your back against the side of the coffee table. The image of James smirking on that couch was still too fresh, and you weren’t about to risk reactivating that trauma.

Mina glanced up from her notes, a mischievous glint in her eye as she took a sip of her tea. “Still mad?” she teased.

You shot her a glare over the rim of your mug, muttering, “I’ll get over it. Eventually.”

Mina giggled softly, the sound light and teasing as she took another sip of her tea before setting the mug back down on the coffee table. “How are the old folks?” she asked, leaning back into the couch cushions, her robe bunching around her elbows.

You shrugged, your fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of your mug. “Same old. Happy, healthy.”

Her smile deepened, filling with an undeniable warmth that softened her usual playful demeanor. “We got really lucky,” she said quietly, her voice carrying an earnestness that made you pause.

You let out a noncommittal hum. “I guess,” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the tea swirling in your cup.

Mina sighed, the sound heavy with meaning, and when you glanced up, her expression was serious. “I know what happened was... awful, y/n. I have scars too.” Her voice softened, the raw honesty in her tone cutting through the air like a whisper against your soul. “And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m proud of you. Of me. Of us.”

Her gaze locked with yours, filled with genuine love and unspoken understanding. The weight of it settled over you like a blanket, and without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your hand gently over hers where it rested on the couch. “I am too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes dropped to your tea, the surface still steaming, faint ripples distorting your reflection. The image wavered, much like your thoughts, and the memories clawed their way back to the surface. What happened was terrible, you thought. The image of In-ho’s face flashed in your mind—the moment his hand slipped from your waist, the cold finality of his silence after you had laid it all bare. Your ultimatum had hung in the air like a blade, and his lack of response had been a response all its own. He had made his choice, and you had been the one left behind.

A sharp ache rose in your chest, unbearable and relentless, like a bruise being pressed too hard. Your throat tightened, and before you realized it, a tear threatened to slip down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly, as if denying its presence could erase the pain too.

“Y/n,” Mina’s voice broke through, soft yet cautious, filled with empathy. Her eyes were on you, studying you like she could see the cracks forming. She didn’t push, didn’t prod—just called to you in a way only she could, grounding you before the sorrow could drown you entirely.

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to clear the sting in your eyes, and lifted your mug again, letting its warmth anchor you. “I’m okay,” you murmured, more to yourself than her.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat as you tried to steady your voice. “My gallery looked great on the way home,” you said, steering the conversation into safer waters.

Mina’s face lit up instantly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “The gallery show is going to be amazing!” she gushed, clapping her hands together like a kid on Christmas morning. Then, her expression turned sly. “We gotta talk outfits.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Mina, seriously?”

“What?” she said, feigning offense as she leaned forward dramatically, her robe slipping off one shoulder like she was auditioning for a soap opera. “This is your art, babe! Out in the world! Your name is growing—you’re practically famous now.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to grin. “Let’s not get carried away.”

“I’m serious,” she continued, pointing a finger at you like she was delivering an intervention. “I’ll be damned if I let you show up to your own gallery show looking like—like poop.”

You burst out laughing, nearly spilling your tea. “Poop? Really, Mina? That’s your big motivational speech?”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea with the most nonchalant expression you’d ever seen. “Hey, I’m just saying. Your art deserves a look. Something bold. Something sexy. Something that says, ‘I paint masterpieces, and I could also steal your man.’”

You doubled over, clutching your stomach as the laughter rolled out of you. “You are unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smug smile, raising her mug in a toast. “Now, I’m thinking black dress, black heels. You’ll look hot, mysterious, and rich. Total triple threat.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, letting Mina’s playful excitement wash over you. But even as you smiled, that nagging thought returned, creeping into your mind like a shadow. Your name is growing—you’re practically famous now. The words bounced around in your head, but the more you thought about them, the less certain they felt.

There was the real weight of it—the fear that gnawed at your insides, the fear of being found. In-ho. His face, his voice, the way he had slipped out of your life with no real answer, no real closure. The thought of him lurking in the background, somewhere out there, made your chest tighten with dread.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Your black gown gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting of the gallery, the fabric flowing gracefully as you moved through the space. The ceilings soared above you, high and vaulted, their pale elegance juxtaposed with the golden glow of the chandeliers that hung like jewels, casting shimmering reflections across the room. The air was filled with the delicate scent of fresh paint—a subtle reminder of the work that had gone into creating the very walls you now stood beside.

The entire gallery radiated warmth, both in its inviting atmosphere and the rich tones of the wood flooring beneath your feet. The walls, a gentle cream, embraced each of your breathtaking paintings, their vibrant colors popping against the soft backdrop. Each piece was lit by strategically placed lights, their glow accentuating every brushstroke, every detail, allowing your art to breathe within the spacious, airy room.

The space felt alive—alive with the pulse of your skill, the soft hum of voices and footsteps mingling with the soft music of the room. Between the intricate molding along the walls and the polished surfaces, there was an undeniable elegance in the air, as if the gallery itself was a work of art.

Every single one of your paintings was up for sale, except for one. It hung on the wall, almost like a secret tucked away among the rest, its presence more intimate than the others. You watched as your family gathered around it—Mina, James, your parents—all admiring the colors, the brushstrokes. It was your mother's favorite, so you had saved it just for her. No amount of her objections could convince you to let her pay for it. It was a gift, one she didn’t need to argue for.

A cordial smile spread across your face as you observed the happiness that radiated from your loved ones. Their laughter and excitement filled the space, and you couldn’t help but feel proud. You continued your slow walk through the gallery, taking in the joy that seemed to pulse through the room.

You couldn’t help but chuckle when you spotted your agent—an energetic whirlwind, buzzing from one person to the next, mingl..chatting up a storm, shaking hands, and making deals. She was a riot, always moving at a mile a minute, but you loved her for it. Without her, this night wouldn’t be the success it was.

But then, your pace slowed. You came upon the first painting you had made after years of silence. The piece felt almost sacred in its own way as if it held a part of you that nothing else could.

It was a portrait—of eyes. His eyes. In-ho’s eyes. The ones that had once looked at you with a depth you couldn’t forget, even if you tried. The brushstrokes were wide and purposeful, capturing the passion of those eyes in a way that felt almost too raw to bear. You had painted the eyes of a man who no longer existed, a man whose memory you had tried to preserve through this one simple piece.

You felt Mina step up beside you, her presence familiar and comforting as always. Her voice was soft, inquisitive. "I always wondered why you painted him," she said, her gaze fixed on the canvas before you.

You sighed, your chest tightening as you looked into those painted eyes. The memories rushed back, but they were no longer as painful as they once were. "I guess I wanted one last look," you began, your voice thick with emotion, "in the eyes of the man I remembered him to be."

You paused, your fingers brushing the edge of the frame as you spoke. "His warmth. His love. I preferred that fiction over the fact of who he turned out to be. A murderer."

You could feel Mina’s quiet understanding beside you. There was no judgment, no need for more words. She just stood with you, letting the weight of the moment settle between you both.

Mina had excused herself a moment later, disappearing into the restroom with a brief, apologetic smile, leaving you standing alone in front of the painting of In-ho. The eyes in the portrait seemed to follow you, a silent reminder of everything you had tried to forget. You couldn’t tear your gaze away, the quiet hum of the gallery around you blending into the background. Time seemed to stretch, the only thing real in the moment being the image before you—the man you had once known, captured forever in paint.

Just as you were lost in thought, a burst of energy tore through the air, and your agent appeared in front of you, practically bouncing with excitement. She squealed so loudly it almost startled you. "Ahh, y/n!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with elation. "I've got wonderful news!"

You had to reach out and grab her shoulders to steady her as she nearly hopped out of her skin, her enthusiasm almost too much to contain. You couldn’t help but giggle, the infectious energy pulling you from your reverie. "Okay, okay, what is it?"

She took your hands in hers, her grip tight with barely contained joy. "Your entire collection has been sold," she declared, her voice cracking with excitement.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, the words hanging in the air like a dream you weren’t sure you could believe. You had to cover your mouth with your hands as if to prevent the shock from spilling out in the form of a gasp. "What... who?"

Before she could respond, a voice—his voice—slashed through the atmosphere, smooth and unmistakable. It hit you like a cold wave, the shock of it rushing through your veins. "I never knew you had a knack for the arts."

The words settled in your chest, each syllable like a stone thrown into still water. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body tensed, as if time had frozen. There, standing at the entrance of the gallery, was In-ho—his presence as commanding as ever, his gaze nailed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. Your agent looked between the two of you, a slight frown knitting her brows. You heard her mumble just before excusing herself, surely picking up on the change in the air, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

Your sanity seemed to unravel in an instant, a quiet thread snapping, leaving you exposed and trembling. The ability to breathe, something you had taken for granted, felt stolen from you in a cruel, suffocating moment. He stood there, looking just the same as he did a year ago—too the same. In his all-black attire, the sharp cut of his suit made him seem impossibly distant, yet his red-bottomed shoes gleamed like a cruel reminder of the life you once shared. The man you had loved—maybe even still loved—was here, standing in front of you like a ghost you had desperately tried to bury.

Your body betrayed you, as it always did in moments like this. As he took a few slow, deliberate steps toward you, calling your name, every inch of you screamed to flee, to run, but your legs refused to obey. You found yourself moving backward in sync with him, each step matching his, like a puppet on invisible strings. The ground beneath your feet felt unstable, as though you were walking on glass, and you could hear the sound of your own heart pounding so loudly that it threatened to drown out everything else.

Your vision blurred. Your breath became shallow, ragged, as your mind raced to make sense of what was happening, but there was no escape from the crushing reality of it. This man—this man—was the reason your chest had once felt full of warmth, and now, he was the reason it felt as though every breath was being stolen from you.

You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear, as the memories of what you once shared crashed into you like waves in a storm. Three years. Three years of your life—maybe even more—lost but still echoing in the pit of your stomach. The implicit words between you and him were suffocating, the weight of his presence like a pressure pressing in from all sides.

It was as if time itself had stopped, your body locked in place, unable to move, unable to think. But then, like a break in the tension, a sound shattered the air—a crash. You snapped back to reality as you saw Mina, her champagne glass slipping from her fingers, sending shards of glass skittering across the floor in a violent spray. The noise was deafening, but it was nothing compared to the silence between you and In-ho, the suffocating silence that lingered like a storm cloud over your head.

Mina’s face twisted with pure disgust as her eyes locked on him, her body stiffening as she processed the sight of him. The contempt in her gaze was palpable, but her focus quickly shifted to you—to you, the one who was standing there, paralyzed in the wake of his presence. Without a word, she moved toward you, her hand grabbing your arm with urgency, pulling you away from him.

James was right behind, his grip gentle yet firm on your shoulders, a soft, steadying force in the chaos. But no touch could calm the frantic pulse racing through your veins. Your body felt as though it were vibrating with panic, your chest too tight, your breath too shallow. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in like a suffocating vise. You couldn’t breathe—you couldn’t think. The overwhelming, bone-deep fear that had settled into your bones was blurring your vision, making every step feel like an eternity.

You couldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here, not with him, not in this moment, not in this suffocating air thick with memories you had buried deep.

With a sharp, desperate pull, you wrenched yourself from Mina’s grip, the sound of her shocked gasp barely registering as you moved. Your feet were moving before your brain could catch up, the instinct to escape roaring louder than everything else. You darted for the doors, the sound of your heart in your ears drowning out the world around you.

You ran—no, you fled. Past the warm golden light of the gallery, past the hum of conversations, and straight toward the exit. You could hear your name being called—his voice—but you refused to acknowledge it. It felt like a rope pulling at you, trying to drag you back into the darkness of everything you had tried to escape.

The doors slammed open in front of you, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap, but you didn’t care. Every step was a fight against the panic that gripped you, a fight against the crushing need to keep moving, to keep running. You could feel the weight of the past pressing against your back, but you pushed forward, ignoring the thumping in your chest, ignoring the tears threatening to fall.

You had to get away.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You found yourself on the nearest rooftop balcony, the city sprawled beneath you in a sea of lights and shadows. The buildings below were faint silhouettes against the dark sky, their windows flickering with life in a world you felt distantly removed from. The cool night air kissed your skin, a small comfort in the stillness that surrounded you. It had taken you nearly an hour to find some semblance of calm, your pulse finally beginning to slow after the frantic rush of fear.

Now, you sat on the edge of the rooftop, your legs dangling carelessly over the side, feet swaying slightly as they hovered inches above the air. The vastness of the city before you seemed to stretch endlessly, the lights below like stars scattered across a canvas too large to take in all at once. Your palms rested in your lap, fingers tense but unmoving, as if your body no longer belonged to you.

You knew you should be heading back to Mina, that you couldn’t stay here, isolated, like some lost fragment of yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move. It was as though your body had forgotten how to function, paralyzed in the space between where you had been and where you needed to go. You couldn’t feel a thing—no warmth, no cold, just an emptiness that echoed in the hollow of your chest.

The world around you seemed muted, distant. Even the sound of the wind brushing through the city, the hum of life below, felt too far away. Then, faintly, you heard the rooftop door creak open behind you. A soft click as it shut, followed by the steady rhythm of footsteps that grew closer with each passing second.

You didn’t need to turn, didn’t need to acknowledge it. You knew it was him—the presence that had once filled your life with warmth, now a shadow that haunted your every step.

Still, you remained frozen. Your gaze stayed fixed on the city ahead of you, watching the endless rows of lights flicker in the distance. You couldn’t look back. You couldn’t face him again.

You let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound barely audible over the hum of the city below. Your gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, the neon lights of a billboard flickering against the night sky, as if they too were too distracted to focus. You didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to acknowledge the weight of his presence that seemed to press in from behind, suffocating the already thick air.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was cold, detached, as if you were asking a question you already knew the answer to, but still needed to hear.

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could feel him take a slow step forward. You refused to glance in his direction, but the quiet shift in the air told you everything you needed to know. He was close now, too close. The scrape of his shoes against the concrete was barely audible, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned against the rooftop’s edge beside you, his body close enough that you could feel his warmth, yet you remained perfectly still, frozen in your resolve.

“I want… I want to try again,” he said, his voice low and tentative, like a fragile promise hovering in the air between you. There was an edge of vulnerability to it, something that clawed at the pieces of you still willing to believe.

You snorted without thinking, the sound bitter and dismissive. Your eyes flicked to the billboard in the distance, the bright lights blinking at you like an illusion—a distraction from the truth. “Leave,” you said, your tone sharp and unwavering. You turned your head slightly, but kept your gaze fixed on the far-off ad, your jaw tight. “You’re wasting your time.”

The words felt like a weight lifted from your chest, but the moment they left your mouth, they felt hollow, the empty space they created echoing back at you. You didn’t want to hear the words, didn’t want to see the man who had once been everything to you standing there, asking for something you could never give him again.

“You never told me about your painting.” His voice was soft, almost too gentle, as if testing the waters, waiting for a crack in your armor.

You swallowed hard, the words like gravel in your throat. "There's a lot of things you don’t know about me anymore," you shot back, your voice colder than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The words hung between you, each syllable another stone thrown into the chasm that had opened between you. A sudden breeze tugged at your hair, lifting it from your face like a tender reminder of everything you had. But now? Now, it felt like the wind was pushing you away from him.

He stood up, his movements slow, deliberate, and yet, there was a sense of urgency in the way he stepped closer to you. “I doubt that very much, y/n.” His voice was thick with something you couldn’t place—hope? Regret? Whatever it was, it grated against your already raw nerves.

Without thinking, you jumped down from the ledge you’d been sitting on. The movement was sharp and instinctive as if putting distance between you both could somehow silence the noise in your head. Your feet hit the ground with a soft thud, but it felt like the sound reverberated through your chest, shaking your bones. You lifted your hand, instinctively warding him off, your fingers trembling with a mix of anger and something far more painful. “No.” The word came out sharper than you meant, but it was all you could muster as you finally met his gaze. His eyes were weary, so weary, but there was warmth there, too—an impossible warmth that threatened to break you.

“Just… no.” You repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, your chest tight. You took another step back, the distance between you growing but feeling like an ocean. “You made your decision. And in a way, I’m glad you did.”

His confusion was palpable, his head angling as if trying to decipher the pieces of you that were slipping through his fingers. You could see it in his eyes—the search for the woman he once knew, the woman who had loved him unconditionally. But she was gone.

"You have no idea what I had to go through to get to where I am.” The words fell out of you, raw and unfiltered, like a confession that had been buried beneath layers of pain, regret, and shattered trust. You didn’t want to say it, but you had to—he needed to hear it.

“I have yearned for you.” Your voice wavered for just a moment before you steadied yourself as if bracing for the impact. “Your touch, your smell, the way you used to make me feel alive… But I’ve realized again and again that my In-ho—the one I loved—is gone. And what’s left? What’s left is a killer.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and you saw the flicker of pain pass through his features—an undeniable flash of regret, or maybe guilt, but it was fleeting. It wasn’t enough. Nothing could ever be enough to undo what had been done, to heal the wounds that had been carved into your soul.

You stood there, breath shallow, heart aching, staring at him as the distance between you felt vast, impossible to close. You weren’t the same person anymore, and neither was he.

A tear shimmered in his eye, threatening to fall, but it never did. His lip trembled, just slightly, betraying the carefully constructed composure he tried so hard to maintain. He nodded, his expression breaking with something raw, something vulnerable that you hadn’t seen in so long. It was the first crack in the wall he had built between you—the wall that had torn you both apart.

He took a step back as if distancing himself from the emotion that was rising between you like a tidal wave. Slowly, painfully, he turned away from you and started walking toward the rooftop door, each step heavy, weighted with finality. The space between you and him grew wider, and your chest tightened in protest, but you couldn’t move. You could barely breathe.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, with one last, reluctant motion, he grabbed it, his fingers curling around the cool metal. He hesitated, turning his head back toward you just before he stepped into the hallway.

The words he spoke were like a slow, fragile exhale—barely audible but cutting through you with the sharpness of a thousand knives. "For what it's worth, y/n," he said, his voice thick with emotion, the sound of it scraping against your heart. "I shut the games down."

Your chin jerked in his direction, your eyes widening in disbelief, a rush of shock and confusion sweeping over you. His eyes were glassy, distant, but there was something else in them, too—shame, maybe sorrow. And, beneath it all, a tenderness that still managed to break through.

"For you," he added, his voice faltering as if the words had cost him more than he could bear to admit.

You felt a tremor run through you as if the very ground beneath you had shifted. He had done it. Shut the industry down—for you, carrying out the ultimatum you had given. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over every part of you that had ever loved him, ever believed in him.

In a flash, he was gone.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to end up in your bed, but fragments of the journey flickered in your memory—the way your legs had trembled beneath you, your hand gripping your stomach as nausea clawed its way through you. You could vaguely recall stumbling back to the gallery, the worried looks on Mina’s face blurring into the hum of voices, the soft touch of her hand guiding you. Now, you lay on your back in the quiet darkness of your room, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains and casting pale streaks across the ceiling.

Mina was beside you, her breaths slow and steady, her form curled beneath the blanket like a protective cocoon. The soft rhythm of her breathing should have been comforting, but your mind refused to settle. You couldn’t stop replaying his parting words, couldn’t stop turning them over and over in your head. “I shut the games down. For you.”

The weight of those words pressed against your chest, a maddening mixture of disbelief, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. Why had he waited until now to tell you? Why had he carried that secret in silence all this time, letting you believe he was still the man who had abandoned you for something darker, something cruel?

A bitter scoff escaped your lips as you rolled onto your side, the mattress shifting slightly beneath you. Your hand curled into the pillow, your knuckles brushing against the cool fabric as you begged for sleep to come, to pull you into its merciful void. But your mind betrayed you, spinning endlessly, racing through memories and questions you didn’t want to face.

You cursed yourself for it—for allowing him to take up space in your thoughts, for spending even one more second on this when you should have let it go. But the harder you tried to push the thoughts away, the tighter they clung to you, like vines wrapping around your chest.

Your heart ached with the weight of all you had endured, the heartbreak layered upon heartbreak, carved into you by the games. The memories were jagged and raw, cutting into your mind no matter how much time passed. Yet, as painful as it all was, there was a flicker of something else—something that almost felt like peace.

The games were over. They were done. Nobody else would have to endure that nightmare, to face the horrors you had barely survived. And that knowledge, however faint, eased something deep within you, even if just for a moment. But still… he had betrayed you.

Your chest tightened again as you stared at the darkened wall, his face flashing in your mind, his eyes weary and regretful. And then the thought came, unbidden and unwanted—what if you allowed him to explain? What if you let him tell you everything, from the beginning?

The thought lingered, curling around you like a question you weren’t ready to answer. It was a dangerous thing, entertaining the idea of understanding, of finding closure. Yet, in its own way, it brought a strange kind of calm.

And it was that thought—fragile, confusing, and bittersweet—that finally lulled you into sleep, your breaths softening, your body relaxing as the tension melted away into the night.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

It had been a long day—the longest. You sat stiffly in your office at the gallery, the faint hum of distant voices and footsteps barely reaching your ears. The weight of the day pressed down on you, heavier than the leather chair you were perched in. Your desk, usually a comforting space filled with the chaos of sketches and notes, felt foreign now, as though the air itself had shifted.

Your agent had called earlier, her voice brimming with urgency as she reminded you to sign over the paperwork for your collection to the buyer. You had chuckled at the simplicity of it, the practicality. Of course, it needed to be done. But beneath the surface of that mundane task, a strange sensation crept in—a quiet calmness, one you hadn’t felt in so long. This might be it. This might be your chance to finally get the closure you had been chasing in the recesses of your mind. Maybe, just maybe, you could finally get your explanation.

Your hands trembled slightly as you ran a cold, shaky hand through your curled hair, trying to smooth the strands that seemed to rebel against the order you so desperately sought. The thought of seeing him again, here, in this space, set your nerves alight.

And then, as if conjured by your thoughts, there he was.

In-ho knocked gently on the open door, his presence filling the room like a shadow stretching across the floor. He was composed, his suit perfectly pressed, but there was something different about him now—something weary in the way he carried himself, something almost fragile. You didn’t trust it, but you also couldn’t ignore it.

You gestured silently for him to sit, your throat too tight to speak just yet. He stepped inside, his movements measured, the soft sound of his shoes against the floor somehow louder than your own heartbeat. As he sank into the chair across from you, you stood, the paperwork clutched tightly in your hand. You circled around the desk, placing yourself directly in front of him, leaning back against the edge as if the furniture might anchor you.

The distance between you felt suffocating yet electric, and suddenly, you were aware of every small movement you made. You shifted, crossing your arms over your chest, a defensive barrier against the storm that was brewing inside you.

You couldn’t meet his eyes at first, not when the memory of everything you had said to him hung heavy between you. The words you’d hurled at him, sharp and unyielding, still lingered in the air, echoes of the heartbreak you hadn’t fully processed. And yet, even now, there was a part of you—a cursed, stubborn part of you—that begged you to apologize, to soften the sharp edges you’d used to shield yourself.

But you wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t apologize, not even as the tension between you thickened, not even as your heart screamed at you to do so. He didn’t deserve your apology, not after everything he had done.

The silence stretched on, heavy and taut, as you held the paperwork in your hands, your fingers clutching the edges tightly.

Your eyes flicked to him as he sat, legs crossed with an air of practiced ease, his confident demeanor filling the room like he owned every inch of it. Even now, after everything, In-ho carried himself with the kind of composure that could command a crowd—or, in this case, silence. His posture was effortless, but his presence was anything but. Every movement, every breath he took seemed calculated, deliberate, as if even his stillness was designed to draw attention.

You cleared your throat, breaking the thick, unspoken tension that lingered between you like a cloud. “From the beginning,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through the quiet. It wasn’t a request—it was a demand.

His gaze flicked to yours, sharp yet unreadable, and for a moment, you thought he might push back, deflect, or stall. But instead, he gave a slight, measured nod as if he’d been expecting this all along. He gestured toward the door with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes locking on yours.

“Shut the door,” he said simply, his voice low and calm yet carrying the weight of something far deeper.

You hesitated for just a beat, long enough for your heart to stutter in your chest. Then, wordlessly, you turned and walked to the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet room. The faint click of the latch as you shut it behind you felt like the closing of a chapter—or perhaps the opening of one you weren’t sure you wanted to read.

With the door closed, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker. You made your way back to your spot against the desk, leaning into it with an unspoken attempt to steady yourself. The papers in your hand brushed against the wood, but your focus was on him now—on the way he sat, still composed, as if he had all the time in the world.

And yet, you noticed the slight shift in his shoulders, the faint tension in the way his hands rested on his knee. He wasn’t as calm as he wanted you to believe.

You crossed your arms again, this time more for yourself than anything else, and tilted your head slightly, waiting. A strange mixture of anticipation and dread coiled in your stomach as your gaze bore into him, silently urging him to begin.

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before leaning forward just slightly, resting his forearms on his thighs. The movement was subtle, but it felt like a shift in the balance of the room, as though he was finally ready to open a door he had kept locked for far too long.

"I had played the games. Once before when I was younger." You straightened at that, fidgeting, as he watched you before continuing.

“My wife... she was sick,” he began, his voice trembling just enough to betray the emotions he was trying to hold back. “She was expecting our child, and I was desperate—so desperate. I didn’t see any other way, so I entered.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the floor as though the weight of the memory was too much to bear.

“My thought process was simple,” he continued, his tone quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. “I’d either save the life of the woman I loved and our baby… or die trying. There wasn’t an in-between for me. But when I made it out, when I finally had the money in my hands…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “It was too late.”

Your gaze softened, despite yourself, the sharp edges of your anger dulling for just a moment as your arms slowly uncrossed.

Your throat dried, and your hands shook.

"And then I found you," he looked up, locking eyes with you.

“You were everything—fierce, unshakable, and so utterly beautiful that it hurt to look at you sometimes. The day you left, it was like the air was stolen from my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move—like the world had come to a standstill, and I was left frozen in the neverending emptiness you left behind.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a weight that made your breath hitch. The intensity in his gaze wasn’t sharp—it was soft, regretful, and filled with something you hadn’t seen from him in a while: vulnerability.

“I ended the games the day you left,” he said quietly, his voice steady but thick with emotion, as though each word carried the burden of his actions.

You froze, the weight of his confession hitting you like a punch to the chest. Your teeth pressed into your cheek as you bit down, trying to steady yourself, trying not to let the shock show. But the tightness in your chest betrayed you, your hands fidgeting at your sides.

“I didn’t tell you,” he continued, his tone lower now, quieter, “because you needed to move on. You needed to heal from… from what I let happen. From what I allowed to become your nightmare.”

His voice cracked, just slightly, and he looked away for a fleeting moment, as if even he couldn’t bear the shame. When his eyes returned to yours, they glistened under the soft light, raw and open in a way that felt almost unbearable.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling under the weight of the words. “For all of it. For the despair I caused you. For the part I played in your agony. For… for breaking the one thing I swore I’d protect.”

You felt your chest tighten, the lump in your throat rising as his words settled over you, heavy and unrelenting. There was no deflecting the rawness of his confession, no mistaking the sincerity that poured from him like a dam finally breaking.

He didn’t try to justify himself further, didn’t try to fill the silence that followed. He just sat there, his gaze searching yours, silently asking for something you weren’t sure you could give—forgiveness, understanding, maybe even absolution.

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady the storm of emotions swirling within you. For a moment, you stayed there, leaning against the desk, your fingers gripping the edge as if letting go might send you tumbling. But then, slowly, you pushed yourself away, your movements deliberate, each step toward him feeling like a quiet surrender to the moment.

He watched you approach, his gaze flickering with surprise and a cautious hope, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were closing the distance between you.

When you stopped in front of him, your heart pounded in your chest, but your hand was steady as you extended it toward him. The air between you felt charged, heavy with everything that had been said—and everything that hadn’t.

“Come on,” you said softly, your voice gentler now, the tension beginning to unravel at the edges. A small, almost tentative smile tugged at your lips, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was for him or for yourself. “Let’s get dinner.”

For a beat, he didn’t move, his eyes searching yours as though trying to understand this small gesture of truce. Then, finally, his lips quirked into the faintest semblance of a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was enough to make something in your chest loosen.

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and grounding, his fingers wrapping around yours with a quiet reverence. As you helped him to his feet, the weight of everything between you seemed to shift—not gone, but lighter somehow.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Dinner had passed quicker than you anticipated, the hours slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers. Now, the two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit sidewalk, the city alive with a quiet hum. Neon lights shimmered above, their reflections dancing faintly on the wet pavement from a drizzle earlier in the evening. In the distance, the soft melody of a street performer’s guitar drifted through the air, mingling with the occasional chatter of passersby.

You bundled yourself tighter in your jacket, the chill nipping at your cheeks and nose, while In-ho walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. His pace was slow, measured, matching yours as if he were careful not to overstep. The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete filled the silence between you, rhythmic and grounding, giving you something to focus on as your thoughts churned.

A question had been simmering in your mind all night, clawing for attention, refusing to let you push it aside any longer. You stole a glance at him, his profile illuminated briefly as you passed under a glowing streetlamp. His expression was neutral, unreadable as always, yet his presence felt heavier than the cold air.

Taking a steadying breath, you licked your lips, your voice breaking through the quiet. “Have you been following me?”

Your words dangled in the ambiance, remaining in the space between you like a sudden gust of wind.

He turned his head toward you, his steps faltering slightly as his eyes met yours. For a brief moment, his expression flickered—was it surprise? Guilt? Something else? You couldn’t tell. But the tension crackled like static, the city around you fading into the background as you waited for his answer.

He came to a complete stop, his body stiffening as if the weight of your question had rooted him to the ground. His eyes widened, the shock evident as they dropped to his polished shoes, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to meet yours as he rocked between his feet. The faint glow of the city lights above cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the subtle quiver in his lips.

You tilted your head, studying him with a mixture of resignation and frustration, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. “I knew it,” you muttered, the confirmation settling like a stone in your chest.

Your mind raced back to all those moments—the uneasy prickle at the back of your neck, the lingering sensation of being watched, the inexplicable certainty that he had been near. You remembered the black sedan at the light stop, the way your instincts had screamed his name even before your eyes had confirmed it.

In-ho lifted his gaze, and for a moment, there was something raw in his expression—an apology, perhaps, or a plea for understanding. But before you could decipher it, he moved. He stepped toward you, each footfall deliberate and unyielding, closing the distance between you with a quiet intensity that made your breath hitch.

When he finally stopped, he was closer than he had been all day, his presence towering yet strangely fragile, like he was holding himself together with sheer will as you looked up at him. His eyes softened as they locked onto yours, filled with something that looked like regret tangled with a need he couldn’t suppress.

“I ordered my men to keep their distance,” he admitted, his voice low and unsteady, each word weighed down with guilt. He paused, exhaling shakily as he raked a hand through his hair. “But I wanted to…” He faltered, his gaze breaking away for a moment before returning to you. “needed to make sure you were safe.”

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, each syllable carrying the weight of his choices and the silent fear he hadn’t dared voice until now. You could see it—feel it—in the way his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the confession had cost him more than he was willing to show.

You turned away from him, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to steady yourself. The city lights blurred in your vision, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. You could feel the tears threatening to rise, but you fought them back, not wanting him to see how deeply his presence still affected you.

“I don’t know what to do with this, In-ho,” you whispered, your voice thick with uncertainty. You wiped at your eyes quickly, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tremor in your hands. “I don’t know what to do with you. With… all of this.” His eyes softened as he took a small step closer, but you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t—not right now.

“I don’t expect you to have the answers,” he said quietly, his tone more fragile than you had ever heard it. “I just…I want to make things right, even if I can’t fix everything.”

He took a tentative step closer, his movements slow, as if afraid that any sudden motion might cause you to pull away. You turned back to him. Your breath hitched in your throat, but you didn’t move. The space between you both felt electric, charged with unstated emotion, yet it was still so fragile.

Without saying a word, he reached up, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a wave of emotion crashing over you—everything you had locked away, all the longing and pain, threatening to break free.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into the softness of his touch, letting the comfort of it surround you like a fleeting memory. The space between you was still there, but this touch—this small, gentle act—felt like a lifeline.

Your heart was being pulled in two directions. The part of you that had loved him so fiercely, that had believed in him so completely, still burned with the longing for something—anything—to change. But the other part of you, the part that had been broken by his silence, by his choices, couldn’t see a clear way forward.

“I don’t know if I can let you back in,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, the words leaving your lips like an apology you weren’t ready to make. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that. ”You finally met his gaze, and there was a quiet desperation in his eyes that made your heartache. He didn’t say anything at first—he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all, full of hope and regret and an apology too big to fit into words.

Then without thinking, you whispered, “But I want to try.”

His gaze softened, something in his eyes shifting—relief, hope, or maybe both. Before either of you could speak again, you reached up, your fingers brushing his cheek as you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The moment felt fragile, full of all the things you had yet to say, and yet, it was everything that had remained unsaid.

When you pulled back, you found yourself searching his eyes, trying to piece together the weight of what was happening between you. You weren’t sure what the future held, but in that moment, you knew you wanted to try.

“I’ll be here,” In-ho whispered, his voice thick with something more than words. “However long it takes.”

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #front man x reader #front man #in ho squid game #fanfic #squid game season 2 #the frontman #squid game fanfic #fan fiction #the front man x reader

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1980shorrorfilm · 28 days ago

Text

the cut that always bleeds

keep clicking.

pairing…rain carradine x fem!reader x ellie williams

in which…ellie doesn’t seem to have time for you anymore; rain does.

before you read…angst, fluff. full transparency this comes forward very rain x reader but life is all about perspective 💜 don’t count how many times you see the word ‘moon.’ pretend theres no errors challenge. also pls no one get mad at this it’s just a little (4k count) gay story. . .

you’re cold.

the bonfire is blazing before you, and you’re cold. rain is sitting by your side, just barely providing you the warmth you crave— but ellie is a deep void that’s sucking it from you, sucking the joy from you that your other friends have.

she’s occasionally sparing you glances over the flickering fire, and every time your eyes meet, there’s something behind them. but she pulls away, devoting her attention to the girl beside her, forgetting you’re there.

you’re not sure what you’ve done— why she got bored of your friendship and seemingly dropped it for another. not that she couldn’t have other friends, you just take notice when someone else is prioritized over you. and it's not a nice feeling.

she doesn’t hang out with you anymore, endless excuses that are so fucking lame that you don’t even bother arguing against them. your patrols are awkward, always quiet like you’re waiting for the other to start a conversation, but neither of you do.

what could you talk about? you selfishly don’t want to hear about the details of her life without you present in it. you miss that— her, more than anything.

but you know she’s happy, her face flushes hues of pink with each interaction with the brunette. she looks nervous around her, picking at the right things to say before they roll off her tongue. that’s how you know it’s a crush— you were once the same. not now.

you feel a weird resentment. it’s not anger, but annoyance, wondering when or if she would notice you’re no longer her shadow, and if it would bother her.

rain notices the inability you have to show a smile, her sister's singing slowly comes to a bittersweet end.

she leans closer to you while your friends whistle at ellie, her head lowering in embarrassment, a habit you found cute.

“you good?”

you turn your head, meeting her blue eyes, swallowed by concern and her hand finding your knee out of habit when things are wrong. it’s not even a question that you had to answer because she knew. you tell her an easy lie, “yeah…just tired.”

she believes it, you think, nodding in return.

“do you…want me to bring you home?” she shyly offers, neither of you paying attention to the green irises locked in on you. ellie didn’t care for whatever relationship you and rain shared— she loves you both and that’s that. but, you were her friend first.

you were the new kid that enjoyed sitting quietly with ellie in the comfort of her garage, rain was more sociable and almost too kind for you, at the time. now, of course you adore it. you love that rain spends her company with you, caring for you, admiring you. she had a way of making you forget everything else, and more importantly, ellie.

so, ellie can’t help but feel the tugging of her heart, while you’re tugged away from her. and she doesn’t even care to realize, she had placed the first brick, and built the wall between you.

she’s not a perfect person. but that’s not what you wanted from her or expected. you just wanted her there, with you, not near you as someone you used to know.

rain catches you in your head again.

“hm?” she hums, a gentle squeeze on your knee realizing you let her question linger with no response. you nod, wanting nothing more than the fresh air from the forest than the heavy smoke surrounding you, suffocating you the same way ellie did.

rain gets up, and you copy, now capturing the eyes of your friends. “we’re ready to crash,” she announces, an exchanged look with ellie that you don’t read into, “don’t stay out too late, kids.”

you two ignore the groans, rain rolling her eyes with a ‘yeah, yeah,’ as you walk away together.

the dirt path darkens the farther you get away from the fire, only the moon providing light for you. it casts an eerie yet lovely shadow over the tall trees, dead with orange leaves clinging to their branches. they crunch and crumble beneath your feet, both of you finding peace at the noise.

when you turn to rain, she’s watching the moon— intently, as it could disappear at any given moment.

it’s sweet, her fixation, you wish you could take her camera and snap a photo of her for yourself. to hang above your bed the way she does with her favorite pictures…quite a few of you. then her head turns to you, and yours turns away, to your dirt-covered shoes.

“what?”

“hm?”

“you’re staring, y/n.”

“am not.”

rain laughs quietly, your face burning with heat at getting caught. it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time she’s dared to point it out. you can’t help that her features are really fucking pretty, mirroring ellie in that sense. and that when she’s super focused, her lips part an inch and her eyes narrow in, and she looks adorable.

rain changes the topic, her tone now serious, “sooo…wanna tell me what’s up?”

you bite your tongue, literally and figuratively, not having the courage to confess that her sister is the storm cloud above your head and the boulder weighing you down. again, she notices, because of course she does, and quickly talks again, “im sorry—i didn’t—you just seem off.”

rain is mentally cursing herself for how far from smooth her words come out, not sure how to help you in the way she desperately wants to. she wouldn’t push for you to tell her anything you weren’t comfortable with, and that’s often what made communicating to rain so easy.

just, not with this, not this time.

“gotta headache,” you give yet another short lie, hoping it goes over her head. it doesn’t, not completely, but she accepts it. rain nods, the silence between you two only lasting for a few seconds before she speaks again, “ellie’s singing that bad, huh?”

the joke finally gets a soft laugh from you, rain feeling satisfied she earned it from you, that it causes her lips to tug upward. now it’s her turn to stare, to observe the beauty in you that she finds in the moon, how despite the internal turmoil you’re enduring, you still manage to radiate such light.

she doesn’t blink. not until she steps on a twig, and swallows the air, redirecting her gaze forward again. it’s a weird feeling…in a daze from you. it’s forbidden, you have only ever been friends, ellie had basically built your friendship over a series of game nights as a trio.

how could she cross a line that has been firmly in place for years? would you cross it?

she goes quiet the rest of the way home, and you don’t have the energy to make a conversation, so it’s just the chirping from the insects and the occasional blowing of the wind. you don’t mind it.

when you successfully sneak back into the walls of jackson, rain continues to walk you back to your place, all the way up the steps to your porch and standing idly in front of the door.

“well…” rain starts, looking up from her white and red sneakers to your face, “i hope you feel better—your head, i mean—if not you should head to the infirmary, just in case, you know.”

she’s so doting you almost consider her words, the lie you created falsely slipping into a short reality, and you nod. “yeah, yeah, will do that.”

“cool, yeah, okay,” rain’s voice is above a whisper, almost forgetting this is the part where she walks away. that’s until you pull away from the moment first, something of a tight-lipped smile on your face that was practically saying goodbye to her, opening your door.

when it shuts, rain lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, lingering on your doorstep for a few passing seconds, before forcing herself to leave.

and as if you jinxed it, there’s a subtle pounding on your temple when you strip from your outdoor clothes, but you couldn’t blame that on the wires in your brain.

it was the heavy, so fucking loud, and obnoxious thoughts of ellie. how dina is probably cuddled into her side while you’re going to sleep in your lonely bed. you don’t like feeling alone like this, just moments prior you were fine— you had rain at your side.

you wish you invited her in; and that she’d lay by you with enough space in your platonic comfort zones. she would happily do so, and she wouldn’t leave you until you fell into a slumber when she knew you were at ease.

you fall asleep picturing that, picturing her.

the next few days are surprisingly, easy.

it’s easy to numb the hurt from ellie with the presence of rain, and she was making herself your shadow. lunch at the tipsy bison, leading you to the back where you’re tucked away from everyone else. it was nice, it was intimate. other evenings when the sun is setting and she’s at your door, the sky casting an orangish glow on a certain angle of her face that makes her look like she descended from heaven itself.

she'd come with goodies from the greenhouse she spent most of her time in, taking the uglier veggies and fruits that she had grown and making a meal out of them with you, for you. she was taking care of you in every sense of the word, not allowing a frown to fall upon your face.

today was different, though.

you didn’t attend the bar and she didn’t show up on your doorstep. instead, you’re in her bedroom— the smell of wood filling your senses from her rustic furniture, making the room feel cozier. a bubble from the outside world you never wanted to pop.

you're sifting through her latest collection of polaroids, mostly— no, entirely —of the moon in its different stages. you don't point that out, though, you don’t find it repetitive. you smile lightly, your fingertips tracing the edges of the glossy photographs. rain observing your face as she mirrors you, sitting crisscrossed parallel to you on her bed.

“i know it’s not super exciting—“ she says, almost apologetic, downplaying the actual excitement she had when she pulled the stack from out of her nightstand to show you. “i just think she’s pretty.”

you’re eyeing one of the blurry ones, making an illusion that there were two moons; two bright, almost ethereal orbs hanging in the sky, like they're celestial twins. you hum, taking it in, then glancing up at her, her expression soft but expectant, she's been watching you closely this whole time. curious, you ask, “she?”

“oh,” her lips curl slightly, a tenderness, maybe shyness, to her voice when she swallows then speaks again, “people in the old world used to think the moon was—well, is, a feminine symbol—sorta like a connection, i guess. and…just look at her…she’s…”

rain trails off, and you don’t seem to notice how her dark pupils are deeply set on your face, like she was trying to remember each outline, catching herself fading from the conversation and into you.

“she's just...always there...and always different—but always beautiful," she gulps, shrugging, afraid you're losing interest, “i don't know...i guess i just like that idea.”

you feel crazy for thinking there's something else to her words, something that makes your skin flush, but you blame it on the intimate atmosphere. you hum again, letting the silence settle between you two, but the air just seems to grow thick, a subtle tension building in that moment. not bad, just...different.

when you're done admiring the photographs, your gaze drifts to hers. she clears her throat, and your heart pounds in your chest. she talks first after building the courage.

“do you...” rain begins, her voice wavering slightly, but she manages to push through it. “do you wanna go to the bonfire tomorrow?”

“tomorrow? i didn’t know they planned that,” you say, wondering why her simple words and question have a weight behind them, a half inviting and half uncertain look on her face. like she's desperate for you to say yes.

but, you're already trying to come up with a reason to why you’re about to decline. things have been okay. you don’t need to be there, around ellie, and slip away again.

rain shakes her head, “they didn’t. i just thought, maybe you and i…”

your breath gets caught in your throat. it's not a typical gathering, it's rain wanting to be with you, and just you. she can tell you're caught off guard, her mouth opening, “it’s totally cool if you don’t—”

“no, yeah, we can,” you agree in the most nonchalant way you can, like the warmth isn't spreading through your chest by the mere idea. rain is not a rebel, not in the same sense that ellie was, and already took hesitation to your group sneaking out; she is making an exception for you.

she doesn’t reply, chewing her cheek to prevent the grin ready to flash, and to distract herself from overthinking it.

and then, she ruins the moment.

“by the way…ellie has been asking about you.”

damn it.

“she has?” your stomach flips, rain catching the glimpse of hope in your eyes, but it doesn’t last, not when you continue to speak again. “we haven’t been…”

“i know,” rain says softly, “that’s why she—”

“she’s busy these days,” you cut rain off, the feeling of comfort that ellie still cares, not able to overpower the bitterness you hold. going through her sister, to reach you? pathetic. she could spare five minutes from her dina-centered days to simply check in on you.

you add, “and i’ve been busy, too.”

with rain. she nods, letting it end there.

rain loves her sister, obviously, but she’s aware of her screw-ups that sometimes involve the ones she cares about. and as much as rain had a habit of figuring out her family and friend's problems, she couldn’t, not with this, not with whatever was going on between you.

ellie will cross that bridge when she comes to it. and so will you. the best she could do was simply be there when you two needed her.

and you need her.

the next night, rain had shown up at your doorstep the very moment jackson had gone dark. hair neatly tucked half up, adorned in that crimson jacket of hers, smelling like a mix of the clementines she grows in the greenhouse and the generic soap she slathered on her body. a scent that reminds you you’re okay.

rain was making simple conversation on the trail there, still on alert for any possible unwelcome eyes or visitors in the surrounding woods, whenever her eyes weren’t on you. the moon is full, and you look beautiful. she almost said that, but decided against it.

when you approach the clearing, it is an odd feeling to be there without hearing ellie’s honey voice sing a familiar song, the crack at a smile on her face if her eyes would land on you…that was a while ago, though.

you barely sigh, watching rain tug off her backpack and bend over, getting the fire started while you sit on an empty log. you wait, bouncing your knee before you interrupt the silence. “it’s quiet.”

fantastic observation, y/n. rain spares you a glance, “that’s a good thing— means it’s just us.”

though she had meant it in the sense you’re safe, there’s an edge to her voice that makes your skin flush, and your heart thuds a little harder than you care to admit.

it is the most intimate setting when rain successfully gets the fire to spark, poking at it until it grows into a steady flame, then joining you. sitting directly next to you, thighs mere inches from touching. “i brought a blanket,” she mentions, “just in case you’re cold— get cold.”

“i’m fine, rain.”

“okay—i just don’t want you getting sick or anything,” rain finds it necessary to explain, a smile flashing on your face at her taking you into consideration. you chew at your bottom lip, and rain shoves her hands in her pockets.

for some reason, the energy feels charged, somehow electrifying despite the calmness of it all, the crackling of the fire and the occasional brushing of her leg against yours.

you're both quiet for a while, not sure what to say, to address whatever was hanging in the air like the mist in the surrounding forest, acting like barrier between you two and the rest of the world. that's when you feel her shift beside you.

rain is hesitant, but she nervously questions you, “was it…really your head that night? i mean—when i walked you home.”

you weren't ready for that. it feels too loaded, and your throat tightens.

but, you glance from the fire to her anyways, ember flames dancing on her delicate features, contorted in slight worry. she looks as ethereal as the moon, and maybe it's the setting, the trust you feel in this moment; that you show her some honesty.

“no,” it comes out lowly, and you shrug, trying to pass it off like it was truly not a big deal, “just didn’t want to be there.”

she still wears that face, a gentle intensity. her brows knit together, trying to push for more without making you uncomfortable, “…how come?”

your sister. for a moment, you debate those words, considering telling her the truth, the full truth. about how you have felt about ellie, and how ellie has made you feel. like shit. chewed up stale gum at the bottom of her dirty black and white converse. it doesn't leave your mouth.

you awkwardly chuckle and fiddle with your fingers, “i dunno— i guess i just…”

you hesitate, her stare so intense you have to look back into the fire. you search for something simpler, but still raw, no longer wanting to hide all of your feelings from rain. especially when shes staring at you the way that she is.

“didn’t feel wanted?”

you hate the words as soon as they leave your lips, it sounds flat out pathetic as if you had only said them for pity. but it's true. you felt like a burden that night, there for no reason at all, dimming the mood with your disconnect from the group. it’s the nerves that make you continue to add to it.

“like…everybody had somebody,” you begin, managing to talk about ellie without explicitly saying her name, “and i was just there? i don’t know.”

you chuckle lightly at the end, but rain sees through it, through you, covering your hurt. her expression softens instantly.

“that’s not true…you have me.”

you blink at rain, her voice ever so gentle, and she reaches out, placing her hand on your knee. you like her tentative touch, so simple, yet it acts like an anchor keeping you at bay from the unfriendly thoughts in your head. it causes that internal warmth she's made you familiar with, to course through your body. from your toes, to where her hand rests, to your shoulders.

rain squeezes your knee gently, like a reassurance. a promise to her words, and the air tightens.

your gaze meets hers, the softness and sincerity behind her blue eyes, your cheeks warmer than the fire in front of you. it is just the crackling of the fire, and a howling of the wind through the trees, and you shiver. but, that's not thanks to the sudden coolness.

it's her stare. the goosebumps rise on your skin, and it happens, like that.

a mutual decision made by your eyes, a flickering between them and your lips. you lean in slightly, breath catching as your nerves grow, but she eases them when she does the same, assuring you that she wants this.

both of your hearts beat like rabbits, and your lips connect.

and then there was nothing else, no thinking, no brooding, no ellie.

just rain.

she takes it slow, cautious at first, once again squeezing your knee, but this time it’s to reassure herself— that you’re actually kissing her, that this is real, not in her head. it's not your first kiss ever, not at all, but it's the first that felt like it had meaning. like all of the love she has grown for you is on full display, wanting, needing, you to feel it.

you need to grab her, your hand slides to the back of her neck to somehow pull her closer, yet she’s the one deepening the kiss. not in a messy way, not in a rough way. she doesn’t want that from you, not yet, at least. it’s still just as tender as it is passionate, it’s like a dream.

and for a moment you had pictured with someone else, maybe even in this exact place on this exact log, this feels…right.

when time is no longer paused, and you finally pull away, your mouth is still parted collecting your breath. “fuck…” rain mumbles, and then she laughs, “holy fuck.”

the smile she wore quickly falters from her face, the euphoria switching to concern, “that was okay— right?”

“yeah—yeah,” you whisper, the little smile returning to both of your faces, ignoring the sudden sense of unease you had felt. it was okay, fucking better than okay and you think you want more. but when you look forward again, it’s to the fire, to the log across that ellie would occupy with her pretty voice and guitar.

and then there’s rain, shyly looking at her red and white sneakers.

a minute doesn’t even pass. you swallow thickly, leaning forward, and kissing her again.

it’s an hour later when the flames had died, a quiet walk back home with stolen glances. you’re both in a haze, minds foggy with the thought of the other. though, yours wavers, a certain pair of green eyes flashing in your head. it was supposed to be her— that’s what you had used to think.

ellie and you, not you and rain. so naive, you were. and so wrong, because rain felt right. she felt perfect.

and your schedule is quickly prioritized around rain over the following week. her free time was yours, and yours hers.

walks around jackson taking photos of the things she found beauty in— the light in a dark world. which included you, often off guard, or stupid faces in her bedroom.

the sleepovers sharing her bed, rain always meeting your hands beneath the blanket, a sense of relief she craved. the chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, making sure your days started nicely, and that you were happy. all rain did was make you happy.

and ellie, on the sidelines, took notice.

she wasn’t losing her friend— she lost her friend. to her fucking sister. not that she was upset with rain in any way, or you for that matter, it just was how it was. something she could’ve prevented.

it’s another night you’re getting ready to go meet rain, slipping on a hoodie when you hear the knocking at your door. you already know who it is, she was still using her signature rhymed knock. two beats off from rain.

you cross your living room, twisting the knob and opening the door. ellie stands before you, in a common dark flannel and her mullet seemingly freshly trimmed, neater than usual. probably the work of someone else’s loving hands.

“hey…can i come in?” she scratches the back of her neck, and you scoot out of the way as an answer. she enters, taking in the comforting aroma of your home she hadn’t realized she missed so much. it somewhat eases the tension in her shoulders, her nerves calming.

you slowly trail behind her, the woman sitting on your couch hunched over, elbows propped on her spread legs. this was serious, and you really don’t want this right now.

her mouth opens before yours does, though.

“how are you?”

oh. her question catches you off guard, but it’s genuine, not surprising since she’s just a distant echo in your life these days. “i’m good,” you give her a short real answer, and she doesn’t give you time to elaborate or even ask her back.

“yeah? and—you and rain?”

you blink at her. her tone is so accusatory like any possible response will just be flat-out wrong.

even if it’s the truth, especially if it’s the truth.

the unfortunate part is that ellie did have some right to know what your relations were with her sister; but there is nothing to tell her, because just like her and dina, you’re not calling yourselves girlfriends.

you’re friends, technically. friends that have gotten closer and closer, spending more time with each other than anyone else. letting the spark between you two grow into a flame, and into a fire.

maybe that is the very reason why the question had left ellie’s lips, seeing a mirrored version of her and dina in you and rain. and if that is the case, why is her voice laced with venom, not obvious, yet clearly there?

she knows you’d never hurt rain, and rain would never hurt you. there is no valid reason for her to take issue with the idea you two had something. not in your opinion, at least.

your silence is an unspoken or undecided answer, and ellie leans back, tongue-swiping her teeth.

“right, okay,” it comes out as a rasp, with a short nod. she begins again, “you could’ve told me.”

you can’t help it— you rebuttal her. “kinda hard when you’re not around.”

“wha—” ellie’s brows furrow, suddenly standing up, eyes darkened and narrow, “every fucking time i come here, you’re gone, you know that?”

you feel a nonexistent spotlight on you that you don’t want to be under, and ellie isn’t even done speaking. “there are nights neither of you are home—so what, you’re fucking sneaking out too? it’s one thing to hide it, but to be stupid?”

“so you suddenly care about me?” you mutter, and her jaw just barely drops, taking offense at your words, pausing before she even can respond.

“how…could you even say that?”

there is no irritation in her voice this time. it’s flat, even somber, matching the energy shift in the room. you’re quiet, unable to make another snarky comment. you stare at her shoes, them approaching you, staying in place when she was just a few feet from you.

then, you look back up at her.

“you know i love you,” ellie tells you blankly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, something she has said a million times over.

it’s different when you haven’t felt her love, or any sort of affection from her in weeks, and the three words seem like more of a chore. nearly meaningless to you. the only person that made you feel like you had a purpose, was now rain, and that realization fucking stings.

“i have to go,” you disregard the current conversation, ignoring the dry humorless chuckle that escapes ellie’s lips, “can you leave? please?”

she remains still for a moment, staring at you, and you dread it. the silent observing, waiting for you to crack, drop this curtain you’re holding up to prevent her from seeing how you truly feel.

how you’re coming to terms with your heartbreak, before the woman that broke your heart, that was never in her possession in the first place— not that she was ever aware of.

she nods.

ellie forces herself to move, walking past, shoulders nearly brushing when she walks past you. you wait to hear the door open, but her palm is resting on the knob.

“i…know i messed up…” she admits, “but…you could’ve come to me.”

she’s making this harder. making your mind envision a reality where you were the one that fought harder, not her. that you didn’t slowly watch the gap between you two widen, and just expressed to her how poorly she had made you feel.

that would be easier than this. she would still be your closest friend…and rain wouldn’t.

rain, who is currently waiting for you. her bed most certainly made neatly, reserved for you to fall asleep in, her arm bound to snake its way around you and stay in place until you woke up.

ellie debates her next choice of words, but nothing comes from her. with dread, she leaves you, alone, frozen in place trying to unpack everything. it feels impossible, and you no longer have the desire to see rain, as much as she could numb this.

you lay down in your own, and much colder bed, but your curtains are drawn wide open and the moon is shining through your window— and she looks beautiful tonight. rain is probably admiring her, wishing she had you next to her to do so.

maybe ellie is doing the same. and maybe tonight, you’re still on her mind, even if she’s gazing at it with someone else.

#my space lesbians #sorry this took so long im very critical of my writing #but whatever its fine everything is fine i love writing fictional lesbian scenarios #wrote while watching the love witch if anyone cares #rain carradine x reader #rain x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #horror x reader #horror fanfic #final girl x reader #wlw fanfic #why are you still reading this? do you want me??

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leviismybby · 1 year ago

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A little gift

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, pure fluff bc we all need it now...

The sky was clear blue with a couple of clouds forming, you breathed in the fresh air as you walked, carrying a little box in your hand. You were nervous to tell Levi the news but it filled you with endless joy too.

Since the rumbling ended three years ago, you and Levi have been working on healing, well, you worked mostly on healing him. The first year was the hardest but you stuck with Levi through good and bad. It got better with time, after all, time heals everything.

You smile as the kids run past you, chasing birds, and they return the smile. So innocent and young. Then your eyes land on him, he is in his wheelchair looking through the crate of candy in his lap. As he looks up at you, you smile at him.

He no longer had dark circles under his eyes and for some reason, he looked even younger now. The scar that ran across his face no longer bothered him and he looked calm and despite not showing it much, you knew that he was happy.

"What are you doing here?" Levi asks, with a slight smile on his face as you approach him. You lean down to give him a quick kiss which he gladly returns, his soft lips pressing against your briefly.

"I came here to give a gift." You try your best not to smile, despite the obvious joy on your face. "A gift?" He asked, it wasn't his birthday, nor any special date that he knew. To be honest, you coming to see him was the best gift they could've asked for. He sees you every day, kisses you every night and somehow he still can't get enough of you.

Nodding your head, you hand him the small box. Levi takes it in his hands, a slight eyebrow arches as he looks at it. "It's light." He comments before opening the box, his eyes look at what's inside the box for a little while.

After some seconds, he takes the little baby shoes out of the box, the realization hitting him like a train. His eyes go wide as he looks up at your smiling face, a slight flush on your cheeks. Levi just stares at you for a couple of minutes, unsure of what to say.

Then, his eyes fill up with tears slightly. "You're...pregnant." You nod at his words, a happy smile still on your face. Stunning, you looked so stunning in his eyes, he couldn't believe it. He will be a father, there's a little baby growing inside of you. It's all too much to process.

Levi lets out a deep breath and then he smiles at you. "I am going to be a dad..." He reaches out to take your hand, the truth was he was almost jumping out of his wheelchair from happiness, he squeezes your hand.

"Name...thank you." He says rubbing his fingers on your skin gently. He needed this, he needed a child. All those times he looked at one of the children and wondered what it would feel like to have his own. And now he finally will.

"For what?" You smile and step closer to him, Levi wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your stomach. "Everything. For giving me a child." He kisses your stomach, you run your fingers through his smooth hair gently. Levi closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling.

"Always." You say and look up to see Yelena and Pon both smile at you from the distance, happy for you and Levi. Nodding you turn your attention back to Levi. "I couldn't think of a better way to tell you. I remember when you saw those in a shop a week ago and I noticed the way you stopped to get a look. It was hard not to tell you then." You chuckle as Levi pulls away, a clam expression on his face.

"I'll have a little brat soon huh?" That makes you laugh, you step back slightly and take the box out of candy out of his lap and the baby shoes too. "You'll have two, you already have me." You sit on his lap and Levi kisses your jaw.

"That I do. And I'll have another one now, that I will love more than anything." He kisses you softly, his hands wrapped around you. His heart if filled with joy, he can't wait to hold his baby in his arms.

After all the hardships, he couldn't believe that he was here with you and that now you're expecting his child. Levi is sure that the baby will heal him more than anyone.

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Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzitaa @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess @la-undercover-latina @levilxvr @bpdtistic

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot levi #captain levi #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman aot #levi x female reader #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader fluff #aot fluff #Attack on titan fluff

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bloomzone · 8 months ago

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GLOW UP DIARY#6 : ROMANTICIZING YOUR LIFE

"Another day ahead, don't wanna leave the bed you're looking at the mirror, see the tears covered in redI know that you've been cold this whole time but now I'm here to make it end"

-straykids (track : youtiful)

hi blossoms it's been so long since I posted. . . 🥹 miss you... Anyway I want to inform that I opened my study motivation/daily life account follow me there if u want ! ( @bloom-diary )

’-Finding Beauty in the Ordinary

🍒: Boring days can feel endless and uninspiring, but they hold the potential for something special. By shifting your perspective, you can uncover the magic hidden in the mundane. Embrace the challenge of transforming those dull moments into opportunities for joy and creativity. Together, we'll explore simple ways to romanticize your daily life, turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. Remember, even the most uneventful days can become cherished memories with the right mindset. Let's make every day a little more magical!

#6.HOW TO ROMANTICIZING EVERYDAY LIFE

u can take your journey of romanticizing life to the next level embracing meaningful practices that can transform your everyday experiences into moments of joy and inspiration(remember that no matter how life get bad u can start again:) ). Start by creating rituals that bring calm and intention to your daily routine—whether it’s a peaceful morning routine or a relaxing evening wind-down. Allow yourself to explore new places and embark on mini-adventures to break free from routine and discover the beauty around you. Connect with your creativity through personal projects and let your imagination flourish. Remember, nourishing your well-being with mindful eating and enjoyable activities can elevate your mood and bring satisfaction. Embrace the changing seasons by celebrating them with special activities and fresh décor. Build a cozy personal sanctuary where you can reflect and recharge, and deepen your connections with others through meaningful gatherings. Practice gratitude regularly, and seek out beauty in both the big and small moments of life. Embrace these practices with an open heart, knowing that each effort you make will enrich your life and help you find joy in the ordinary.

FIND BEAUTY IN THE SMALL THINGS :

Romanticizing life involves finding beauty and joy in the everyday moments. Here’s a guide to help you embrace this mindset:

# 1.Slow Down and Be Present

- Mindfulness: Practice mindfulness by paying attention to the present moment without judgment.

- Savor Daily Routines:Turn mundane tasks into rituals. For example, enjoy making your morning coffee or tea,make ur bed in the morning..

# 2.Create a Cozy Atmosphere

- Decorate Your Space: Add personal touches to your living space, like lights, plants, or cozy blankets it will give u motivation to have a productive day

- Ambient Lighting: Use candles or soft lighting to create a warm and inviting environment

# 3.Indulge in Simple Pleasures

- Nature Walks: Take walks in nature, paying attention to the sights, sounds, and smells.

- Reading: Find a cozy spot to read books that inspire and transport you.

- Enjoy a Homemade Dessert: Bake cookies, brownies, or a cake and savor each bite try new recipes

# 4.Cultivate a Sense of Wonder

- Explore: Visit new places, even if they are in your local area.

- Learn: Pick up a new hobby or skill that excites you new languages....

# 5.Embrace Your Senses

- Music: Create playlists that uplift or calm you.

- Creating a Sensory Jar: Fill a jar with items like sea shells, dried flowers, or colored sand for a visual and tactile experience or just memories from break days..

# 6.Practice Gratitude

- Journaling: Keep a gratitude journal to note down things you’re thankful for each day.

- Appreciation: Take time to appreciate the little things, like a beautiful sunset or a delicious meal.

# 7. Dress for Joy

- Wear What You Love: Dress in clothes that make you feel good, even if you’re not going anywhere special. (Ikr wasting a good outfit in a boring day is suck 😔)

- Accessorize: Use accessories that add a touch of elegance or fun to your outfits.

#8. Nurture Relationships

- Quality Time: Spend meaningful time with friends and family.

- Thoughtful Gestures: Show appreciation through small, thoughtful gestures.

#9. Celebrate Yourself

- Self-Care: Regularly engage in self-care activities that rejuvenate you.

- Achievements: Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small.

# 10. Capture Memories

- Photography: Take photos of moments that make you happy.

- Scrapbooking: Create a scrapbook or digital album to look back on fond memories.

─ㅤ⊹ㅤ𓈒 May this guide inspire you to see the beauty in your daily life and cherish every moment.

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adam-trademark · 2 months ago

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New Year's Day 2025

Happy New Year to all of my wonderful followers!

As we enter 2025, I would like to thank all of you for the continued love and support you have shown me. Your support and thoughtful engagement have made this blog truly special. I'm deeply grateful to each and every one of you.

The start of a new year brings endless possibilities, fresh beginnings, and opportunities to grow. May this year bring you all joy, success, and fulfillment into every aspect of your lives. Let's continue to inspire one another and make this year one to remember.

I wish everyone a year filled with love, peace, and happiness!

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sequinsmile-x · 1 month ago

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Fortress

They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren't alone.

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home.

AKA the one where Spencer needs a place to stay and ends up staying with the Hotchners.

-x-

Hi besties!

Today is...a rough day. And I'm holding space for all of you who are directly impacted by it. This is pure silly, fluffiness and I hope it makes you smile and provides a small distraction for you today.

This is very loosely based on a b-plot in a Bones episode - if you know, you know.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 4.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns and rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, allowing herself one last final moment where he is just her husband, and not also her boss, before the elevator makes it to the BAU’s floor.

“Tired?” He asks, turning his head to kiss her temple, and she grumbles, taking the opportunity to turn her head and rest her forehead against his suit jacket before she pulls back to look at him.

“Exhausted,” she mutters, “And it’s your fault.”

She steps away from him as the elevator doors open, putting space between them as if no one knew they were married. She and Aaron had to fill out endless paperwork to continue working together after they declared their relationship, and they were careful. They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren’t alone.

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home. How either one of them would wrap their arms around the other from behind when they were making dinner. How Aaron would curl up behind her in their bed, surrounding her with the warmth and love she couldn’t believe she’d once lived without. They were always touching each other, always within reach, and she loved it. Stored up all the bits of her husband that she could to keep close to her heart when she had to act as if he was just another member of the team.

“Because it’s my fault we had to be here early because of my meeting?” He asks, looking around them to double check they are alone in the hallway, “Or because of the baby.”

She shoots him a sharp glance, the blade of it dulled by the smile she can’t hide. She was only 7 weeks along. The news was still fresh, something that would pull a delighted smile out of her whenever she thought of it, her joy almost overwhelming every time it washed over her.

“Both,” she quips, “And I can’t have coffee. That’s your fault too.”

He holds the door open for her, smirking as he walks into the bullpen after her, “Sweetheart, you haven’t had coffee in years,” he says, but his smile drops when she throws him another glare and he clears his throat, “I mean, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”

“Nice save,” she replies, smiling as she dumps her bag on her desk and sits down, “And yes, please. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking it’s coffee.”

He smiles and looks around the bullpen, checking once again to make sure they are alone, and he kisses her cheek. He places his briefcase next to her desk and squeezes her shoulder before he turns away, “One cup of tea coming right up.”

“You’re the best husband ever,” she calls after him without looking back, blowing out a slow breath as she unlocks her computer, idly wondering how on earth she was going to make it through the day without napping. She’s about to open her emails, half a thought about a report she needed to finish for a recent case rolling around her head, when she hears two yells in quick succession from the kitchenette. She furrows her brow and jumps up, walking quickly towards the kitchen, “Aaron, what's…” she trails off as she sets her eyes on her husband standing with his hands on his hip, just a few feet away from the couch that Spencer was sitting on, a blanket over his lap and a pillow at the other end of the couch, “What’s going on here?”

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask,” Aaron says, raising an eyebrow at Spencer expectantly.

“My apartment building is being fumigated,” he replies, clearing his throat as he sits up a little straighter, his brain finally catching up with the fact his boss is standing in front of him, “I needed somewhere to stay.”

“Wait, you’re sleeping here?” Emily asks, and Spencer nods, “Why?”

He shrugs, as if the answer was obvious, “I had nowhere else to stay.”

Emily’s about to ask why he didn’t stay in a hotel for a few days when Aaron replies instead, his hands still on his hips as he barely covers a sigh.

“You can’t sleep in the office,” Aaron says, “How much longer is your building out of bounds?”

“Until the weekend.”

Aaron sighs again and turns to Emily, and she knows what he’s thinking, because she’s thinking the same thing. When she first joined the BAU, back when Aaron didn’t trust her and the team were strangers, she never could have imagined that they would become her family. That not only would she find the man she loves, the love of her life and the father of her children, but friends she’d do anything for.

Even if it did mean blurring the already shaky lines between her home and her work.

“You can stay with us,” Aaron says as he turns back to Spencer, “We have a spare room and it’s better than you sleeping here.”

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“Spencer,” she says, cutting him off, “We’re not taking no for an answer. You can stay with us until your place is free to go home to.”

He sighs and nods, “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, turning to look at Aaron, “Did you manage to make my tea?”

He nods and reaches for the two mugs he’d somehow managed to not drop when Spencer sat up from the couch and almost gave him a heart attack, “Here you go, sweetheart.”

She smiles her thanks at him and turns to head back to her desk. She’s just about sat down when Aaron joins her, smiling softly as he grabs his briefcase.

“Are we going to talk about the scream that came out of you when he sat up?”

He sighs, failing to hide a smile, “I didn’t scream.”

“Sure, honey,” she replies, winking at him, “Whatever you say.”

___

By lunchtime, everyone knows that Spencer is going to be staying with them for a few days.

Emily eats lunch with Aaron in his office. It was something that had gone from being something she liked to do to something that felt like a necessity. The smell of everyone’s lunch all mixing into one made her stomach turn, nausea she had to fight against so she could eat the plainest of meals to make sure she kept something down.

She groans as she lays back against the couch in his office, her eyes drifting shut as she chews on a plain cracker, “This baby better be cute.”

Aaron chuckles and rests his hand on her thigh, “Of course, she’ll be cute. She’s half you.”

She opens her eyes and looks at him, “She?”

He shrugs, smiling at her with a twinkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for home, “Just a feeling.”

She chuckles and rests her hand over his on her lap, “Do you want to find out? When we can?”

“Haley and I did with Jack, but I think that’s your decision sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Since you’re the one who’ll be doing the literal heavy lifting.”

She hums, “Good answer,” she smiles wryly, “I don’t know. Part of me wants to know as soon as I can. The other part of me…”

“Wants it to be a surprise?”

She nods and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, trying and failing to catch a smile that feels nothing short of ridiculous, “Yeah. And I don’t usually like surprises. But this would be the best surprise ever.”

“We have time to figure it all out,” he says and he winks at her, “And I’ll follow your lead. No matter what.”

She squeezes his hand three times, a silent way of saying I love you that they’d started exchanging a long time ago, way back when no one knew about them and he’d grab her hand under the table on the jet. It was something that was as precious to her as the words themselves, something that was just for them.

“I should get back to work,” she says, smiling as she lets go of his hand, “We can’t have anyone claiming you’re showing favouritism.”

He laughs and stands up at the same time as her, allowing his hand to skip along her lower back as she steps past him, “Between you and me, you’re definitely my favourite. Prentiss.”

She laughs and winks at him as she opens the door, “You’re my favourite too. Hotch.”

She steps out onto the walkway, but the rest of the team is too engrossed in their conversation to notice her there, all hunched over a piece of paper on Derek’s desk - apart from Spencer who is sitting at his desk, looking irritated.

“I’m saying a month.” Penelope says, pulling $20 out of her wallet, “Here you go handsome.”

“So baby girl has a month,” Derek replies, taking the money from her, “I’ve said two weeks. Rossi?”

“Three days,” he quips, looking over at Spencer, his smirk visible from the walkway, “No way he lasts longer than that.”

“Three days,” Derek says, taking the money from Dave, “What about you JJ?”

“Forever,” she replies, smiling when Spencer tries to intervene but she cuts him off, “I think they’ll adopt him as their own and he’ll live with them forever.”

Derek frowns, “I don’t have forever. The longest I wrote down is two months.”

JJ rolls her eyes and slams her money on the table, “Then give me two months.”

Emily’s mouth falls open in outrage and clears her throat, smirking when they all freeze and look up at her. “Do I get a cut? Considering it’s my life you’re betting on?”

“They said we couldn’t take part because we could sway it in our favour,” Spencer says, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Emily scoffs and walks down the stairs, “Well that’s not fair.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Derek says, counting up the money on his desk, the amount letting her know that it wasn’t just the team who’d entered the bet - but the entire office, “Don’t hate the players, hate the game.”

___

Emily sighs as she leans back on the couch, letting her eyes drift shut as she gives herself a moment to relax, blowing out a slow breath as she rests her hand on her stomach.

“You’re sucking the life out of me, baby,” she grumbles, keeping her voice low just in case Spencer or Jack walk past the living room. She knew she was just at the start, that she had so much longer to go, but she was trying to soak it all in. This was something she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have, something that just wasn’t meant to happen for her. There were moments when it still didn’t feel real. Moments that made her almost want to wish time away so she could feel her baby move and kick so she had something tangible to show that this was happening, that she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. She smiles and runs her thumb back and forth over the skin just below her belly button, “But you’re worth it.”

She almost falls asleep, the sound of Aaron cooking just in the next room, and his low conversation with Spencer who insisted on helping, the white noise that starts to pull her under.

“Mom?”

She snaps awake at the sound of Jack’s voice, and she smiles at him, “Hey, sweet boy, are you okay?”

He nods, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Are you okay? You were asleep.”

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she sits up straight, patting the couch next to her to convince him to sit with her, “I’m okay, I promise. It was just a long day at work.”

He sighs and sits next to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he snuggles into her side, “You left for work early today.”

“Exactly,” she replies, kissing his temple, “But I’m fine,” she pulls back to look at him, “How was school?”

“It was good. We’re learning French, but I told the teacher you know it better than she does.”

Emily chuckles at that, internally wincing as she thinks of the next parent-teacher conference, and she runs her fingers through his hair, “Well, maybe I can help you with your homework. And maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Spencer can help you with your homework while he’s here too.”

Jack nods, “Is he staying forever?”

She laughs again and thinks of the conversation she’d overheard her friends have, and she shakes her head, “No, honey, he’s not staying forever. Just until his apartment is safe to go back to,” she explains, and Jack sighs, the disappointment in it forcing her to hide a smile, “Why? Do you want him to stay?”

He shrugs, “I dunno. It’s kind of like having a brother I guess.”

She has to stifle a sigh, has to stop herself from almost saying, for the second time that day, that Spencer was only 11 years younger than her, but she’s overwhelmed by a different thought. Ever since she and Aaron had started trying, she’d been worried about how Jack would feel about becoming a big brother. She never wanted to make him feel like he wasn’t enough for her, never wanted him to think that her not being his biological mother was a factor in the decision to have another baby.

“Is that something you’d want?”

He shrugs again, “I guess. Or a sister. A sister would be better.”

She kisses his temple and hides a smile against his hair, “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But Spencer can’t stay forever,” she says, leaning in as if she’s whispering a conspiracy, wanting to move the conversation on so she doesn’t accidentally let something slip, “He has the same birthday as me, and I don’t want to share the cake you and Daddy make me every year.”

He laughs, and the sound tugs at her heart, fills the space around it until she feels like she can’t breathe whilst she’s overwhelmed by love for him. She thinks she might start crying, her famous hold on her emotions already loosening because of her pregnancy hormones, her grip slipping more and more each day in a way that made her worry about what things would be like further along. She’s saved when Aaron calls down the hallway, letting her and Jack know it’s dinner time, and Jack runs off ahead of her, excited and already telling Aaron he wants to pick what piece of the lasagne he’s going to eat. It gives her a few seconds to gather herself, her eyes closed as she blows out a slow breath before she stands up.

“Sweetheart?”

She looks at Aaron and smiles, “I’m okay,” she assures him, her smile only getting wider as he gives her the same concerned look Jack had earlier, “Just tired.”

He nods, “Think you can manage some lasagne?” He asks, and she must go green, the wave of nausea she feels at the mention of it almost knocking her off her feet, “I made some plain pasta for you if you want it, I told Reid you’re coming down with something and don’t want to eat anything too rich. Or I could do some toast?”

She smiles and walks over, wrapping her arms around him so she can kiss him. He wraps his arms around her too, taking the time to pass his hand over her flat stomach. She stamps her lips against his before she pulls back, “You’re the best. The pasta will be fine.”

She leans in to kiss him again but stops when she hears a throat clearing from behind them, and she presses her lips together as she sees Spencer standing just a few feet away, a plate of dinner in each hand, his eyes slightly wide as if he’d walked in on more than them just exchanging a simple kiss. Aaron steps away from her like he’s been burned, his eyes also wide, and she bites back a sigh, irritation she knows isn’t strictly fair aimed at him and Spencer for the disruption to her affection for her husband.

“I’ll go get your food, Em,” Aaron says, smiling tightly at her, a flicker of an apology in it as if he’d only just realised how he’d jumped away from her, “Why don’t you go and sit in the dining room with Jack and Spencer?”

She hums and narrows her eyes at him, letting him know he’s in trouble later, but then she nods, wrapping her arm around Jack’s shoulders as he stands next to her. Unlike his father, he doesn’t hide away from her affection in Spencer’s presence, and she takes that as a win.

“Come on kiddo, let’s eat.”

___

She collapses into bed, half asleep as she lies right in the middle because Sergio is taking up most of her side of the bed. She has her arms wrapped around Aaron’s pillow as he gets ready for bed in the bathroom, seeking out the scent of him that remains on it.

She knew they’d done the right thing taking Spencer in, that they couldn’t in good conscience leave him to sleep in the office, but she hadn’t considered the potential consequences. Aaron had kept a respectable distance from her most of the evening. She was used to it at work, but not here - not in their home. She knew he was private, she was too, but she hated the awkwardness she’d felt when he simply placed his arm around her shoulders when they all settled down to watch a movie.

Spencer had sat next to Jack and told him all the inaccuracies in Finding Nemo, something that the little boy had enjoyed greatly. Occasionally, Emily would notice Spencer studying them, watching them in moments when he thought they weren’t paying attention, taking the opportunity to learn more about them in their own environment.

She grumbles when she hears the bathroom door open, and she buries her face in Aaron’s pillow as he sits on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, pushing her hair out of her face, “If you move over we can cuddle.”

She hums and moves just enough for him to slip into bed too, curling around him the moment she can, her head on his chest and her hand she sneaks it under his t-shirt, “Your kid hates me.”

“Jack?” He asks, furrowing his brows, and she scoffs, lightly slapping his chest as she mutters her response against him.

“Not Jack. The one living inside of me.”

He kisses the top of her head and rubs a circle on her back, “The baby doesn’t hate you, Em. It’s normal to feel like this.”

“I know,” she grumbles, “Doesn’t make it any easier though,” she tightens her hold on him, gets impossibly closer as she all but tries to climb under his skin. It makes him frown, concern sparking in his gut as he reciprocates, forever keen to make sure she has exactly what she needs.

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as he encourages her to look up at him.

She shrugs, her cheeks burning now she has to think of a way to say it outloud, “It’s stupid.”

“You’ve never been stupid a moment in your life,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, chasing the smile she tries and fails to hide, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She sighs and she nods, “I just…missed you tonight. That’s all.”

His frown deepens, “I’ve been home all night.”

She shakes her head and sighs again, this one rattling around as it passes from her chest to his, “Forget it. Like I said, it’s stupid-”

“Em,” he says, stroking her cheek again, “It’s not stupid. Just…tell me what you mean?”

“I…I’m used to having to try to act like we aren’t together at work. I’m not used to having to do it here. And with Spencer here tonight it was just…different. That’s all. I missed us being us, I guess.”

He pauses, tries to figure out how to respond for a moment, and then he pulls her against him again, holds her as close as he possibly can, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to pull away like that. I’ll try and do better, and maybe we can tell him to stay somewhere else?”

She shakes her head, “We can’t do that. It would be like kicking a puppy or something,” she mumbles, “Plus it’s only for a few days. I can make do. As long as we still have this.”

He smiles against the top of her head, “We’ll always have this.”

She tilts her head up to look at him, “Even when I’m the most pregnant person to ever exist and there’s a whole baby between us?”

“Even then,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, “I’ll just hold both of you.”

She kisses him again, “Good answer. Again. You’re two for two, Hotchner,” she yawns, the sound turning into a moan as she buries her face in his chest, “As soon as I don’t feel like I’ve never slept a day in my life I’ll repay you in sexual favours.”

___

The next morning, she walks into the office with Aaron and Spencer, and she actively ignores the smirks on their friend’s faces as they approach.

“Oh look, it’s the Hotchner family,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair with a grin all over his face that Emily wanted to slap away.

“Shut up, Derek,” she grumbles, something that only seems to pull another laugh out of her friends.

“Wow, someone hasn’t had caffeine yet today. Want some tea?” Penelope says, a spark of mischief in her eyes, and before Emily can respond Spencer cuts in

“Actually, she already had a mug of tea at home which has approximately 75mg of caffeine based on the type of tea, so because of the baby it isn’t recommended that she has any more this morning.”

For a moment, it’s silent. Quiet in a way it rarely was, before all of them, her and Aaron included, react in the same way.

“What?”

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he realises he’s said something he shouldn’t have, and he swallows thickly, “Well, you didn’t eat dinner last night, and you haven’t eaten lunch with us for over a week. And Hotch kept touching your…” he trails off as he points at her stomach, “I don’t think either of you noticed.”

“You…” she trails off, shaking her head as she looks at her husband, knowing there was no point in trying to lie now. She looks at the team, their excitement barely contained before she sighs and nods, “Yes. I’m pregnant,” she holds up her hand to cut off Penelope before she explodes and pulls her into a hug, “But I’m only 7 weeks along,” she throws Spencer a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anyone quite yet.”

JJ smiles, “Congratulations, Em. We’re happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she replies, looking at Aaron again, smiling at the soft look in his eyes, “We’re happy too.”

“Congrats, princess,” Derek says, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing before he turns to Dave, “I think this means you won.”

Aaron frowns, “Won what?”

Dave sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, “We knew you were pregnant, we put a bet on when you were going to tell us.”

“What?” Emily says again, crossing her arms over her chest, “How the hell did you know?”

“You practically turned green at the mention of Derek’s breakfast sandwich the other day,” JJ replies, shrugging her shoulders, “And you’re glowing.”

She scoffs, “I think that’s the morning sickness,” she smiles, “But thanks,” she steps back so she’s close to Aaron, wanting him close by even if she can’t wrap her arm around him, “But you guys have got to stop placing bets on what’s happening in our lives. First on how long Reid was going to stay with us and now this.”

Aaron tenses next to her, his shoulders tight as he looks at her, his confusion close to endearing when their eyes meet, “Wait, what?”

#hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss

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themuseofmilkandhoney333 · 6 months ago

Text

Why hello there…

Can you do me a big, big favor? You can? Wonderful! Get nice and comfy. Take a deep breath. Now, pay attention. That’s a good pet.

❤️‍🔥 Welcome to the Muse’s Lair ❤️‍🔥

Allow me to introduce myself. They call me The Muse. Oh yes, I know. It takes a bit of getting used to, but you really don’t mind jumping through a few extra hoops for me, do you, sweet thing? No, no I didn’t think so.

I also love to be called:

🖤Ma’am

🖤Madame

🖤 Mommy

🖤Mistress

🖤Princess

🖤 Goddess

I do have my certain preference that especially please me, but I’ll leave that to you to find out. Do you think you’ll be brave enough or will I need to coax you into talking to me like a lioness stalking her willing prey?

Awwww, look at you. Wet for me already. You precious thing. I can already tell that you’re going to be easy to break. No? Prove. Me. Wrong.

Now that you’re listening let me give you a small taste of my near feral appetite. Some of my Favorite Kinks are:

🌟Femdom

🌟Lactation- I do produce

🌟Orgasm Denial

🌟Chastity; long term & short term

🌟Female Led Households

🌟Impact Play: floggers and paddles mostly

🌟Bondage

🌟Sissification

🌟Overstimulation

🌟Milking

🌟Sounding

🌟Gaping

🌟Strap-on Play

🌟MD/lb

🌟Pet Play

🌟JOI

🌟Sensory Depravation & Play

🌟Intox Play

🌟Erotic Hypnosis

🌟Predicament Bondage

🌟Much, Much more…

You can find more of me here:

🌹

Ah…I see I really have your attention now. I bet you’re squirming right now, desperate to touch that thing between your legs. Are you imagining all the things I could do to you? The endless torturous and delicious possibilities. All your deepest, darkest fantasies fulfilled. You’ve been searching for someone like me. Someone who truly deserves your devotion and worship. Come to me.

Here you will find an amalgamation of my deepest desires and wildest fantasies. You will also find lots of art in many different mediums. I am called The Muse because my passion is to inspire. Whether it is inspiring you to stay hydrated, get back to work, get back to your favorite hobby, or reduce yourself into my pathetic, desperate, drooling pet…yes, I even want to inspire the hours of endless gooning you do in my name. I bask in it. As you stay and become more and more addicted to me, I will reveal myself to you and blossom like a garden before you…an endless harvest ahead.

Just to tempt your salivating taste buds, here’s the tiniest nugget into my world:

🖤Height: 5’2

🖤Shoe Size: 9 1/2 US Women’s

🖤Bra Size: 34 G

🖤Favorite Color: Carnelian

🖤Favorite Place: The Ocean

🖤 Sacral Witch specializing in Divination

🖤 Love Music & Singing

🖤 Love Nature & Outdoors

🖤 Love Animals & will walk you on a leash any day

Now, darling,a few final reminders. This is a sacred space where you are accepted, loved, and respected. Please treat my space with that same respect. I do not respond to demands. I WILL block you if you are disrespectful in any way towards me or any of the other guests here. You will also immediately be blocked for unsolicited pictures and blogs with empty descriptions, no profile pic, and/or no age.

Keep those requirements in mind and have fun. Get lost in it. Give yourself over to it. To me. And welcome…I do so love fresh meat.

I provide professional Domme services and require any new subs to fill out an application for that can be found in the link above. It does require an Application Fee.

With Lustful Intentions,

The Muse

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libby-for-life · 4 months ago

Text

Inspired by @talesfromawannabejournalist, who's more than welcome to join in and turn this into a Role Play.

Lucifer let out a weary sigh as he slouched in his chair, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. As the ruler of Hell, he was burdened with endless administrative tasks, particularly because he governed over a horde of sinful souls who were constantly attempting to exploit loopholes in his decrees. A low, menacing growl rumbled in his chest as he contemplated the audacity of certain Overlords who had grown increasingly bold in their defiance of his authority.

He found some solace in being the ruler of Hell, knowing that it afforded him the ability to provide his daughter, Charlotte, with anything her heart desired. The thought of his cherished five-year-old daughter brought a rare smile to his face. Amidst the darkness and suffering of his domain, she was the sole source of light and joy. The only one who could get him to feel something other than hate.

Not even her mother could do that.

Lilith Morningstar was a remarkable figure. Not only was she considered the First Woman, but she also held a special place in his heart when she was first created. It's possible that he truly loved her for a while. However, it became evident that she had evolved into someone quite different from the woman he initially fell in love with.

They remained in a relationship for the sake of appearances; Lucifer believed he was in love with Lilith and didn't want to face ridicule for divorcing after going through so much to be together in the first place. Ending their marriage would have felt like admitting defeat, so despite Lilith having multiple lovers, they chose to stay together to avoid gossip and judgment.

He let out another heavy sigh, his eyes lingering on the ornate clock hanging on the wall. Extermination Day was looming on the horizon. It was a day designed to prevent the forces of Hell from ever mounting a challenge against Heaven. Once a year, angelic beings descended to eradicate the Sinners. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a sense of indifference towards the fate of the Sinners. He resented Heaven's interference in his affairs, yet begrudgingly accepted it and turned a blind eye.

As he strolled to the balcony, a sense of anticipation welled up inside him. He knew that before long, the familiar portal would open, allowing the angels to enter his kingdom. His brother had assumed the role of the leader of the Exorcists for quite a while now, and every time he beheld the leader in all his majestic splendor, Lucifer couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. Despite the physical distance between them, his status as the Devil endowed him with formidable power, enabling him to perform feats that surpassed the capabilities of ordinary demons and humans. For instance, his ability to perceive events transpiring over vast distances was a testament to his extraordinary prowess.

As he gazed at the figure adorning the majestic armor that belonged to Michael, he couldn't help but notice the subtle yet distinct differences in appearance. The way the light reflected off the intricately crafted armor only served to emphasize the fact that this new angel was unlike any he had encountered before. With a sense of intrigue and suspicion creeping into his thoughts, he carefully concealed himself within the shadows and silently took flight from his balcony, determined to closely observe and scrutinize this enigmatic new leader.

This one was beyond different and when he took off his helmet, most likely to get some fresh air on his face, Lucifer's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. But he would never forget that face. Not even in the millennia that has passed. The new leader of the Exorcists was none other than Adam, the First Man.

And Adam looked so different than when he was in Eden. Lucifer couldn't help but tilt his head in wonder as he gazed at Adam’s beauty. He looked like he had gotten softer, especially in the thigh, stomach, and ass department making Lucifer hum in approval. He certainly looked like a snack...

As he stood there at that moment, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of possessiveness and greed that consumed him as it took over. The thought of Adam crossed his mind - what would it be like to be with the First Man of creation? He couldn't help but ponder the idea that no one could truly understand and appreciate Adam the way Lucifer had in Eden, and certainly not in the present moment.

So, without giving a chance for Adam to fly away, he flew out and pinned Adam to the floor of some alleyway. "What?! Let go!" Adam yelled as Lucifer materialized a strong rope to tie Adam's wrist together. "No!" He yelled when his ankles joined him. Lucifer hummed and whispered into Adam's ear. "Hello, Adam. It's been a while."

The angel lied frozen, a flicker of recognition crossing his face as the voice of Lucifer reached his ears. A sense of triumph filled the demon as he watched the angel's reaction. Why wouldn't Adam remember him? Perhaps he still harbored resentment over the incident when he had run away with Adam's wife, but deep down, Adam would always carry memories of their time together before Lilith had even come into existence.

"No...no, not you." Lucifer chuckled in amusement. "Yes. Me." He picked Adam up but not before gagging him. He didn't need to be noisy. He was well aware that Michael would try to make Lucifer give back Adam but they wouldn't dare do it themselves. Not after Lucifer makes a deal to never get involved with Extermination Day or the angels involved with it.

He threw Adam onto his bed and watched as he struggled, glaring at him. He really was cute to be doing that. Lucifer was much more powerful than he was, and if he so desired, then he could destroy him. Adam was lucky that Lucifer was content to just admire.

"Oh, Adam. It really has been a while!" Lucifer said with a smirk, watching as he heaved. Now, all he had to do was wait for his brother to call him so they could negotiate. But, while they were waiting, Lucifer could always see what was under all that armor...

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adamsapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #new au?#Lucifer's Mistress

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melancholysway · 1 month ago

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Wanderlust [TMNT 2007!Leo x Fem!Reader] Ch. I: Commencement

WANDERLUST PLAYLIST

Key:

--- = a flashback is beginning or ending

=== = perspective change (POV changes may occur, but will be explicitly stated when they come up)

~ = small time skip

You require some fresh air during a busy dinner service. A strange being is on a rooftop near your job, and curiosity gets the best of you.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴀʟᴍᴀ ᴇɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀᴅᴀ ʙʏ ᴄʜᴀʟɪɴᴏ ꜱᴀɴᴄʜᴇᴢ

“I said fucking ‘service please!” Your voice boomed throughout the busy kitchen, loud enough for the other chefs to shudder. You weren’t normally like this, only if shit was really hitting the fan. And right now, the shit was hitting the fan badly.

You were currently 12 orders behind. Three cooks, two waiters, and one dishwasher called out. Unfortunately, you were forced to deal with a busy dinner service with only half a staff.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Suddenly, the senior sous chef burst through the revolving doors, clearly annoyed with how the evening was going. You were so concentrated and stressed that you didn’t care how much of a mess the kitchen was. You had no time to worry.

“I need hands!” you huff, watching as the completed dishes pile on the shelf in front of you. The receipt printer continued making noise time after time as more orders flooded in. There were too many distractions and noises coming from both the kitchen and dining room that you became overwhelmed and couldn’t concentrate. As usual, there seemed to be no end to this madness. As usual during hectic times, you pondered why you chose this job out of the hundreds of chef openings a year ago.

---

Imagine this: You’ve just graduated from an accredited college in your hometown. Cue the crying parents and confetti from after the big tassel move at the commencement ceremony. Finally, your life was starting. Finally, you’ve been awarded your degree!

What kind of degree, you may ask? Well, You’ve been gung-ho about a career in the culinary industry since high school and obtained your bachelor of arts in culinary and hospitality management. The joy of creation came about every time you stepped into a kitchen.

It was your dream to join a team that put together dishes with love—being part of a family in the kitchen. That’s what it was all about, right? For bonds to be created over a hot plate of food or during prep time. You had your parents to thank for their support and love for food, as it inspired you to take this route in life.

However, after job searches around your area were slim to none, you got to thinking: How about a change of scenery? You wondered about other places that weren’t just your childhood home. A place where the opportunities were endless, and the connections were infinite.

There was New York City, right?

The idea of moving to the Big Apple was rather… absurd. To no surprise, your parents disagreed from the jump. However, you were drawn to the hustle and bustle of New York City (piss-stained elevator floors included at no extra cost), so you decided to move to Manhattan, though it took a little convincing for your parents to be on board.

They caved in, considering you had nothing holding you back (cheers to no more assignments due at 11:59 PM!) But they had a few requests.

Find a job before you relocate

Find an apartment in a decent area.

That was easy enough; the jobs in the city were much more abundant, and the apartments were endless. Once approved for an apartment (your parents also green-lit that,) the job search landed you somewhere you’d least expect—a chef position at a 4-star American restaurant.

Fast-forward a few days. The manager called you. You were a great fit after reviewing your resume and conducting a virtual interview. Your skills were there, and the professional development you received through your college enhanced your resume.

However, you were given a warning: It gets busy. Very, very busy.

But that was precisely what you were looking for. You were moving to the city for a change of scenery and to gain experience in a high-volume, fast-paced work environment.

So it was settled: you’ve fulfilled your parents' only requests, and they had no choice but to set you free, not before giving you the money left from your college fund to get you started.

When you finally moved into your tiny studio apartment, a wave of freedom and independence washed over you. It was jaw-dropping to look outside at any time of day and see that the rumors were true—the city never sleeps.

The first day of your new job wasn’t as picture-perfect as you had hoped. It felt like you were a new character introduced to a show in its 8th season. There was an established team already prepping before opening. You awkwardly walked into the kitchen, searching for an office to find the manager, realizing that nobody looked up from their spot to acknowledge you.

That was until you heard someone call out your name. When you turned around, a middle-aged woman with brown hair stuffed in a hair net was off to the side, gently motioning for you to follow her to her station. She introduced herself once you made your way over, and you did the same. You felt a little safe knowing you were acquainted with at least one person in this place.

She informed you that the manager was never really around, and he usually left the sous chefs in charge. However, they weren’t coming for another hour. She was told to show you the ropes before opening.

To make the long story short, there was never a real-time to take a breather, and it was busy, just like you were warned. However, you were confident enough by dinner service to take over different stations while chefs took their breaks. As your first official day of work ended and you returned home tired as ever, you couldn’t help but smile. After all the hard work from college to other jobs you’ve had in the past, it’s brought you to this point in life. You had made it this far with the choices you made. A new change of scenery, a new job. Hell, you were living in the city, a place known for infinite opportunities. There was nothing that could make you second guess your decision!

---

Okay, maybe some things could have you second guessing.

“Where the fuck are my servers?! You got us drownin’ back here!” You smiled as suddenly, your senior sous quickly washed his hands and put on some gloves, ready to assist the sudden dinner rush. The middle-aged chef comes to your side, placing a supportive hand on your left shoulder. “L/n, go take a quick breather, and come back ready.” Finally, You got a smidge of a break. Before anyone could stop you for something, you rushed to the kitchen entrance, trying not to slip on the dropped brioche buns flattened with non-slip shoes and soggy french fries on the once-white tile floor.

You pass all the chaos, trying to make your way through the crowd of people. Fuck preorders. Fuck parties of 12. Fuck DoorDash. Fuck UberEats. Fuck callouts. Fuck everyone and everything. You glanced at the bar, but you couldn’t even see the bartender over the crowd of people surrounding her at the table, all bar stools occupied with others standing in annoyance at the understaffed restaurant and slow service. If that wasn’t enough, you could’ve sworn you saw one of the waiters behind her blonde bangs tear up a little behind the POS system as she angrily punched in a table’s order.

Beads of sweat littered your forehead from the heat of the kitchen and the congestion from the volume of customers. As soon as you pushed the door to exit, it felt as if a massive weight was lifted off of you.

It was nighttime. You felt the cold January air slap you in the face, but you were grateful for it. Taking a deep breath, you sit on the stairs off to the side of the restaurant, what’s left of the red neon sign illuminating the parking lot around you (they really need to fix the “S” in the sign “Hudson Grille,”) the battery in its been dead since you started working here last year. The place wasn’t run down or anything; it’s just that the manager put the budget toward other things. For now, though, the restaurant is called “Hudon Grille.” First-time customers and tourists think it’s a typo and argue it’s “Udon Grille,” then get mad when there’s everything but Udon on the menu.

You look up to the full moon, contemplating your life choices as usual during a stressful service, wondering just what parallel universe you is doing right now.

“She’s probably livin' la vida loca in Cancun right now,” you tell yourself. In this universe, though, you were livin’ la vida loca in New York City. There was so much more out there, that you wondered what lies beyond the Big Apple.

Your eyes began wandering to the city’s buildings, admiring the decoration New Yorkers put on their balcony. They began traveling upwards to the rooftops, and you got lost in thought.

Until you noticed somebody- or- something on one of the buildings' rooftops. It was dark, but you could make out its silhouette. It looked bigger than the average human, but then again, bodybuilders and sumo wrestlers could reach this height.

But, what would a bodybuilder or sumo wrestler be doing on the top of some random building at 7:00 pm? Grabbing your phone from the back of your pants pocket, your thumb scrolls in search of the camera app.

“I don’t think it can see me,” you whisper. Maybe you can get a bird- well- phone’s eye view to see it better. Holding up your phone, you wait for it to adjust to night mode. After doing so, you angle the lens towards the silhouette, pinching the screen with your fingers to zoom in. Once the lens focused and adjusted, you got a slightly better look at the unknown figure. You still couldn’t see who or what it was, but there was an obvious difference between it and a human. It couldn’t be human. It had some sort of backpack on its back, and there was some sort of fabric that flowed in the wind behind its head.

"Y/n! You can hear one of the chefs calling you from inside, but you don’t move an inch.

You snap a photo, ensuring the flash is on to capture every detail so you can study it later after your shift. However, the camera flash causes the figure to turn, almost as if it were staring.

It was staring at you.

You felt a chill run down your spine as it began to walk. You couldn’t see its eyes, but you knew it was staring. You watched as its arms were crossed—as if it were studying you, maybe even judging you. This caused some anxiety, as you wondered if you had made it angry. If, for some reason, it was some sort of extraterrestrial, you stood up, awkwardly waving in its direction. You came in peace.

The unknown being stood still before slowly raising what appeared to be its hand to return the gesture.

“Coño, Y/n!-” You jolt and snap your neck to the angry voice coming from behind you. It was one of your coworkers- Maria. She didn’t speak a lot of English, but it didn’t matter; she was a damn good cook.

“I was on my way back i-” “I need a smoke break. Jefe wants you on the line.” You sigh at the thought of going back into complete chaos. It was so peaceful out here. Yet so…mysterious. You thought you knew the city like the back of your hand, but it seemed there were some things unbeknownst to you; hell, probably everyone. Speaking of mystery, you decide to take one last look at the rooftop the silhouette was on, hoping it was still there.

Only it wasn’t. This…mystery thing had disappeared. You frown a little, wondering where it might’ve gone. This frown plays on your lips as you take a deep breath before opening the restaurant doors, and soon those damn doors to the back kitchen.

Heading back to your station, your mind jumps from the present to the past.

What did I just see?

You grab a cutting board from the dish pit and a knife from the cut-safe encasement, swiftly moving past other cooks while multiple calls of “behind” leave your mouth.

Ugh, I need to slice more onions.

You speed walk toward the walk-in fridge, scanning the area and quickly finding the red onions. You grab a handful and head back to your station. Quickly, you begin chopping each whole onion in half and pushing the tunic scraps off to the side of your board.

Would I see it again?

Wiping your eyes with the back of your palm, you groan in annoyance at the onions in front of you, yet continue cutting and slicing through the stinging pain of the onion juice making its way to your eyes as best as you can.

“Yo, we got more sliced onions?” A voice asks out loud.

It waved back at me.

“I got sliced onions!” You say, placing the desired food item into a nearby bowl to hand off to whoever screamed for it.

As the rest of the night continued and finally ended, you realized that whatever you saw earlier tonight had now fully occupied your mind. As you finish cleaning and clock out, you make your way out to the streets, walking quickly to your apartment building nearby. Once you get inside, you rush to get in the shower; you need to get the smell of food off your body before you do anything else.

Your immense curiosity overcomes your anxiety about the unknown. Your well-needed hot shower prompted more thoughts and conspiracies about what may be lurking in the city you lived in. I mean, your encounter tonight was ultimately the result of your choices, weren’t they?

Understand this: every single choice made has rather…unpredictable consequences.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

// Taglist: @bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside @xnorthstar3x @miss-andromeda @ahhhhhhhhhfuck Want to be added to my taglist? Comment a “💛” to be added to the melancholysway blog Comment a “💚” to be added to the melancholyswayafterdark blog Masterlist Join my TMNT Discord! Join the TMNT Community!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #tmnt 2007 #tmnt imagines #tmnt headcanons #leonardo tmnt #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #2007 tmnt #2007 leo #tmnt x reader #tmnt fanfiction

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danaduchy · 4 months ago

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Damien journeyed through the stars more times than he could count, each leap through the mysterious Unity pulling him into new realities. What had once filled him with wonder had faded into a quiet, persistent ache, like a lingering echo of something lost.

The novelty of exploring alternate versions of the universe had worn thin. He had seen worlds where Constellation didn’t exist, where humanity was isolated to a single system, and others where the terrifying Terrormorphs attacks destroyed full colonies. Some of these places were better, others worse, but none of them felt like home.

He encountered versions of his old friends, living unfamiliar lives. Sometimes, they were strangers, their eyes cold and indifferent. Other times, they were kind but distant, weary of his knowledge of them from different times. It never got easier. Every reunion felt like a shadow of the bonds he had once cherished, a painful reminder that in this vast web of multiverses, he was a ghost—haunted by memories that no longer held meaning to the people around him.

But then came the worlds that felt like mirrors. Universes where everything seemed nearly identical to the life he had known, only shifted slightly out of place, like a picture hanging just off-center. It was in one of these mirrored realities that he met other Him.

Not the explorer, the adventurer Damien had become, but someone simpler, more grounded—a miner, just like Damien had once been before he became entangled in the mysteries of the stars. When they first met, it was awkward, like looking into a reflection that didn’t quite match.

The other Damien—who insisted on going by “Dusty,” a nickname his friends had given him in the mines—was oblivious to Unity, to the universe-bending artifacts that had consumed Damien’s life. He was content with his life, a life of routine, work, and the occasional drink with friends. Dusty had siblings—a brother and a sister—that Damien had never had, but as he listened to Dusty talk about them, it felt like hearing echoes of a life that could have been his. A simpler life. A life that wasn’t burdened by the weight of countless worlds.

Dusty hadn’t planned on exploring the galaxy, but once he and Damien started traveling together, the allure of the stars became irresistible. He was different from Damien—there was a lightness to him, an easy laugh that Damien hadn’t heard in his own voice for years.

For the first time in a long time, Damien felt a sense of peace. Dusty understood him in ways no one else could, with his simple joy for life, he reminded Damien of the things he had forgotten to cherish—the quiet moments, the laughter, friends that were always around.

Damien made a decision he hadn’t anticipated: he would stay in Dusty’s universe. He had no desire to continue the endless, lonely trek across the multiverse, always searching but never finding what he was looking for. Here, in this place that felt so close to home, he could rest. Dusty was more than happy to join him, and together they crafted a simple story to explain their likeness to others: they were twins. It was a story that others accepted easily enough, and to those outside Constellation, it provided an explanation that required no further questions.

They explored the stars together, side by side. They charted uncharted planets, always having each other backs. For Damien, it was a fresh start, an opportunity to rebuild the life he had lost, without the weight of regret that had followed him for so long.

In this universe, he found his old companions again—Sam, Barrett, and the others. He and Sam grew close again, sharing the camaraderie they once had. But as time went on, Damien realized that rekindling their past relationship felt wrong. It was like trying to recreate something that no longer fit, a puzzle with missing pieces. He had changed too much, and though there was affection between them, it wasn’t the same.

It was during this time that someone unexpected entered Damien’s life: Ezekiel. He hadn’t known Ezekiel in his original universe, and perhaps that was why their connection felt so new and exciting. Ezekiel was warm, curious, and had a perspective on the universe that was entirely his own.

Their friendship grew slowly, but steadily, and over time, Damien found himself drawn to Ezekiel in ways he hadn’t expected. There was a depth to their bond that felt different from anything Damien had experienced before. It wasn’t built on shared history or the weight of old memories, but on something new, something that felt like hope.

For the first time in years, Damien felt like he had found a place where he belonged. Not just a universe that was familiar, but a life that felt real, grounded in the connections he had made with those around him. With Dusty by his side, and Ezekiel’s steady presence grounding him, Damien realized that he no longer needed to search for answers in the far reaches of the cosmos. He had found his peace, not in the endless stars, but in the people who made the vastness of the universe feel small and full of life.

In the end, it wasn’t the mysteries of Unity or the multiverse that gave Damien a sense of purpose—it was the simple joy of living, of sharing his life with others who truly understood him. And for the first time in a long, long while, Damien was content. He had found his home.

#rpg #starfield #headcanons

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goggles-mcgee · 1 year ago

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Ashes of Rage: Act 1 - It Would Take A Miracle

Chapter 4 of the story for @miner249er

AO3 Last Chapter

Summary: Luka's heart had never felt so broken, his world so dark and his music so static. He hasn't had any motivation to do anything besides stay in bed. It would take a miracle to make him do so...or a sympathetic and determined kwami.

It Would Take A Miracle:

Static.

All he could hear was static.

There were no melodies, there were no solos, there were no symphonies. All it was was disheartening static and Luka didn’t know what to do. His life three days ago had been so loud and comforting but now it was silent, muddled and so dark. He felt listless and refused to get out of bed. It was a good thing that he and Juleka got their own rooms finally, it had taken a lot of convincing for his mom to let them clean out one of the storage rooms and turn it into his new bedroom. It had actually been Marinette who had convinced his stubborn mom and it had made Marinette all the more wonderful. She was always incredible, but seeing her out stubborn the most stubborn person in Luka’s life had only made him love and value her more. A fresh wave of tears washed over the forlorn teen at the thought of his crush and friend. His heart twinged with a twisted pain he was slowly getting used to. Pain. He was in so much pain. He wanted it gone. He wanted her back. But like every time before, his pleas and wishes were ignored and just led to more heartbreak.

His appetite was all but gone and he barely ate what his mom made or bought him, he still drank though and maybe that was why she wasn’t pushing. He hadn’t showered in three days but with the way he was feeling he knew it would be longer. It was hard to get out of bed even if it was to use the restroom, taking a shower just felt like too much work. He would see the shower and a barrage of thoughts would crash into him, reminding him all he would have to do to feel clean again and it was like he was tranquilized or something because he would just feel this bone-deep tiredness that wouldn’t go away no matter what he did so it would just lead to him laying in his bed and starting the twisted routine all over again. It was like he was in one of those groundhog day movies or like his own power Second Chance, was glitching and not letting him out of the situation.

Luka’s emotions felt too big for his body, his skin itched with his frustration and the days passed without a shower, his teeth ached in his longing, his muscles screamed in his sadness, his heart clenched in its breaking and his lungs drowned in his guilt. As much as he craved to do something, anything he also couldn’t help the thoughts of ‘why?’ Why do anything at all when his world had crashed and burned around him? Why plead for things to be different when his prayers fell on deaf ears? Why get up when nothing he did would bring back Marinette? It was a lot and there was never a break form the never-ending torture. Not even his dreams were safe. Dreaming of Marinette led to more heartache even if the dream was normal to past ones he had had that had previously brought him endless joy. The nightmares were the worst but he would take them over the bittersweet ones that just made his longing deeper and his hope stronger. But reality would hit him once his eyes opened and he would cry for many minutes, maybe even hours. Time didn’t register to him really.

The only reason he knew how long it had been since he had showered was because of his mom and Juleka. He knew they were trying to help but he had been angrier than he honestly expected after Paris learned of Team Miraculous’ Finale Fight, he hated it but that was what everyone had now dubbed it. It hadn’t been a fight, at least not from his and the rest of the team’s point of view. No one knew what exactly happened in the underground chamber since the only ones who could tell them were two comatose Kwamis and three villains who would probably twist the events. It was hard to come to the realization that Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste, even for Luka who had the unique skill of ‘reading someone’s heart.’ That’s what others referred to it as but according to his long talks with Sass, Luka seemed to be someone who could read a person’s aura which mixed with his Synesthesia. He had Chromesthesia, specifically, but his was more along the lines of seeing color and the color had a sound. He saw colors in a lot of things but it was constantly people, their auras and tones of voice would bring color and the color would bring the music.

It did get overwhelming sometimes and it had been a big factor in him doing his schooling online for a while which turned into permanently. He just enjoyed it more than when he did go to school and his former teachers told him they saw remarkable improvement in his grades. He still met up with his friends, they still hung out and had study sessions, so he was still a social teen but he didn’t have to worry about migraines or coming across weird to other people who weren’t his friends. His former bandmates in Kitty Section had also been really understanding and never treated him differently and helped him when some days were just too much. But they changed, their music’s changed and it had been jarring, when he eventually left the band he knew it had been inevitable. There was no doubt in Luka’s mind that if he hadn’t quit he would have been ‘politely’ fired and he had strong feelings about that. The one constant had been Marinette, when the others changed she didn’t. She remained strong and melodious.

Even if she was going through something her melody was still recognizable. He was still coming to terms with the fact he would never hear her song any time soon or ever. She had been there when he left the band, she had been there when he begun fighting with Juleka more than normal and she had been there when he decided to get to know his dad more. She had been such a strong light guiding him through some of the roughest seas he had ever experienced. Kagami had also been a constant presence before everything happened. She was a calming presence and often kept him and Marinette from getting lost in their projects. Both he and Marinette tended to get distracted easily and they both fed off each other’s energy and Kagami would be the one to keep them grounded and focused. Kagami’s music was a new sound he had gotten used to hearing and it was easily in his list of top ten songs from people he heard. When Marinette, Kagami and he would get together he would hear such wonderful melodies.

Marinette had often joked that they were the Three Musketeers with how often they would hang out together when they could. Without Marinette it felt like a knife to the heart to use the group chat between the three that was titled as such so he and Kagami never touched it when they spoke. Phone calls were still too much for Luka at the moment so the two just texted each other but it still brought him comfort all the same. That was probably another reason why his mother wasn’t pushing too much, it probably would have been a different story if he had cut off all his friends but especially Kagami since his mom knew how close they along with Marinette were. But he still overheard his mom talking on the phone over how worried she was and how she didn’t know what to do. Luka always felt like telling her she was doing all she could and just comfort her but he didn’t have the energy. He suspected she was talking to his dad or Penny, most likely both. He knew from the sounds of it his dad wasn’t doing so well either with the news.

“Snakelet…”

The voice of his Kwami cut through the current haze Luka found himself in but he couldn’t bring himself to look at his friend but he did manage to hum as a response.

“I have thought about what I could say that would make you feel better for ages. I came to the conclusion that no words I could offer would make you happy. Nor satisfied. But I don’t want to leave you with no words from me. I…I am lost. I have been through this situation more times than I’d like to admit and yet all those instances have left me with no answers.” Sass admitted in his soft voice as he flew to sit in front of Luka’s face on his pillow. Luka couldn’t look away, he wouldn’t look away, he knew it would hurt his small friend if he did so.

“Though there are few words I can give you that express my condolences and support, I simply will say, I am here for you.” Sass said and did his best to give Luka a hug, though it was more like he laid himself on Luka’s nose. “I am here for you and I will continue to be here if ever you need me.”

Luka felt himself begin to cry again, which astounded him as he felt like he was all out of tears. “Sass…” He choked out, he tried his best not to sound like he was going to sob but he knew he failed when he felt Sass try to hug him harder.

“What do I do?” He asked in a small voice once his small cry ended. Sass was no longer on his nose but instead sat in his hands as he finally sat up after what felt like ages.

“ We do our best to move forward.”

“We?”

“I did say I will be with you. I mean it, every step of the way, I will be here.” Sass didn’t say he promised but Luka could hear it in his tone of voice. It was a promise but it felt like more. It felt like a lifeline.

Luka couldn’t really think of an appropriate response without risk of crying again and he already had a cry-headache settling in. “What…What do we do?”

“We need to go to…Ladybug’s house, her room specifically.” Luka was about to protest that suggestion, because he was absolutely not ready to do that. He didn’t think he would ever be ready. “I know that is probably the last thing you want to do Snakelet, but I can’t communicate with the other Kwami to see if one of their holders can do it. The Miracle Box is sitting in…Ladybug’s room unknown and unprotected. If someone with ill intentions were to find it there would be great difficulties and more tragedy.”

“More?” Luka felt his anger rise at an alarming speed. “Hasn’t there been enough?”

“Luka…I understand you are in pain and worried. I…I am also going through the same. My friends are unconscious and unresponsive…I…I can barely feel them even if they are in the same room.” At Sass’s words Luka’s anger all but left him in an instant. “Besides obtaining the Miracle Box and keeping it safe, I feel something telling me that Tikki and Plagg need the Miracle Box. I can’t explain and I know you are hurting, but-”

“Okay.”

“-it is…Wait. Okay? You…You will do it?” Sass asked and the wide-eyed hopeful look on his face broke Luka’s heart a little bit more. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the only one hurting even if it felt like it at times.

“You and me, Sass, you…you said you were here for me and I’ll be here for you. We’re friends.” Luka said softly as he brought the Kwami to his chest in the best hug he could give, it was somewhat like the hug Sass gave Luka earlier. He wanted to make Sass feel as safe and loved as the Kwami had made him feel despite their size difference. After their hug Luka forced himself to get out of bed and ignored how weak his legs felt and softly said his transformation phrase. It felt weird being Viperion even though it really hadn’t been that long since he had last transformed but there was this odd feeling like being in his hero form was wrong without…Ladybug there to lead. Ladybug, it was easier to think of her as Ladybug, it didn’t lessen the pain but it made it just a bit more bearable. But now he was going to her house, to her room and he knew what it looked like, smelled like and there would be no way to think of her as Ladybug when he was in there.

He had to do this though. For Sass and for Ladybug, he would rather die than let the rest of the Miraculi fall into the wrong hands. He'd be damned if he didn’t protect the city that Ladybug loved with her whole heart and soul. So he made his way to her home, to her tower. He and Kagami often joked about Marinette being the princess in the tower and Mari-Ladybug only laughed. She loved her tower. Kagami once joked when it was the two of them that Kagami was M-Ladybug’s knight while he was her minstrel. He had laughed and agreed but later he would think about it and decided he would be a knight if she needed him to be. Though she had needed him and he hadn’t been there. Nope! No! He would not fall down that line of thinking as he was jumping across rooftops and using his lyre to help him along the way. It was a weird day when they found out his lyre could turn into a crossbow, the end of his “arrows” could also change into a grappling gun.

Apparently he and Sass had been bonding pretty well and slowly harmonizing which is why his lyre upgraded to one of its forms. The arrows of the crossbow themselves were weird as he didn’t carry a quiver or anything but an arrow would be equipped if he needed it. Some had no arrowheads, some had normal arrowheads, others had barbed arrowheads, and sometimes the arrows had string attached to them. Whatever kind of arrow he needed, it would show up on the crossbow already loaded. Sass had told him that that showed just how in tune the two were becoming and that soon they would probably be able to communicate with one another while Luka was transformed. It was something he had been looking forward to. He was sure it would come in handy and besides, he already talked out loud when transformed, it may have looked weird but he had been talking to his kwami even if he didn’t think he could hear him at the time. He hadn’t but now he would, hopefully soon.

Finally, Luka touched down on the roof of Ma-Ladybug’s tower and looked around in sadness as he noticed the plants up there had wilted. Before he could talk himself out of it he opened the hatch of the roof and jumped through and onto the floor of the bedroom. Some dust had begun to settle and it broke Luka’s heart more but he willed himself to take deep breaths before he dropped his transformation. He and Sass needed to be able to talk and they weren’t quite at that stage of being able to communicate with one another. As the transformation dropped he looked down at the dirty pink bag that he had taken to looking after and opened it to look at the kwamis who slept inside. Tikki and Plagg, as he had learned from Sass, were normally darker in their colors but looking at them they seemed shades or tones paler, well according to Sass.

“So what are we looking for?” Luka asked as he refused to look anywhere else but his kwami.

Sass had opened his mouth, probably to respond but both of them froze when they heard thumps coming from the roof and the unmistakable murmur of voices. Luka scooped his kwami out of the air and quickly hid behind M- Ladybug’s .( Ladybug. Goddammit .) chaise. The light in the room was off and he himself had been wearing some of his darker clothes…er well, pajamas. Both kwami and teen held their breath as the hatch to the roof was opened and down came two? No, three, actually make it four, people. It took a minute for Luka to recognize them as his teammates. He didn’t know whether or not to greet them but that choice disappeared when a purple kwami and blue kwami flew out from somewhere and floated in the middle of the room.

“Please don’t be scared!” The purple one pleaded. “I am Nooroo and this is Duusuu. I am the kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous while Duusuu is the kwami for the Peacock. I know that alarms you but please listen. I called my friends here and they probably don’t know why or just had a feeling they had to come here so you followed.”

Barely after speaking, the kwami - Nooroo, was sped into by Sass who flew so fast the two kwami shot off into the air. Luka figured there was no point in hiding anymore and stepped out from his hiding place and awkwardly waved at his teammates. They seemed to be in shock before Noc-Turtle mumbled something and their transformation dropped revealing Marc Anciel. Fox-Tail’s jaw dropped before he hastily said his detransformation phrase and there stood Nathaniel Kurtzberg who hurried over Marc and hugged him. Donryu had been looking at Luka the whole time and quietly made her way over to him, once she was in front of him she too dropped her transformation and there was Kagami. It shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did but the two just stood there staring at each other before they heard an odd wheeze come from Bee-Witch who was staring at everyone with wide eyes. She too dropped her transformation and only to the shock of Marc and Nathaniel, she turned out to be Chloe Bourgeois.

“I don’t know how to handle all these revelations at the moment but I can work through them later with my cat.” Marc said, clearly still in some shock. “Er-Nooroo right? Can you explain more?”

Nooroo who was in the middle of a kwami group hug along with Duusuu nodded and reluctantly left the hug. “Like I said, I was able to call you all here to meet, I had to borrow power from the other kwami in the Miracle Box though. I’m not at full power and even then my messages would have been more feeling than anything. Sorry, I’m rambling. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk so freely.”

“You are fine, Our Friend.” Pollen reassured while glaring at everyone else like she was daring them to argue.

“Take your time.” Sass murmured from his spot next to his friend. Luka wanted to comfort the little kwami but he didn’t think it would help given how Luka could imagine he was treated by his former user. If Luka were him, he would be wary of humans no matter how well intentioned.

Nooroo took a deep breath and nodded. “I…I don’t really know where to start. What I have to say is…shocking to say the least. I know all of us here have been through a lot…have lost a lot…but I felt like if I stayed quiet I would be betraying Ladybug just…just like Chat Noir did.”

It was quiet. So quiet. Until Nathaniel choked out a small, “What?”

Duusuu merely nodded in response along with Nooroo. “It was awful. Chat Noir and his father planned the entire thing. Chat Noir planned to be suspicious of Gabriel Agreste once more and had you guys purposefully find out he was guilty of being Hawkmoth. Ladybug was the big target and you guys would have been just…collateral. So when Ladybug proposed the ambush…”

“Uncle Gabe already knew.” Chloe stated in a voice full of disgust even if her eyes were filled with tears.

“He did.” Nooroo confirmed. “Chat Noir played his role well and the ambush was happening so fast. Ladybug could barely try and fight back before she was secured to the chair. She was so angry…so heartbroken…she did all she could to fight against Gabriel and his son…”

There were some gasps among the humans at the information but Luka merely took a much needed breath in. He had guessed as much since the only ones in the house after the explosion had been Adrien, Gabriel, Nathalie and the body of Emilie Agreste. It just clicked. Sure Chat Noir could have disappeared like Marin-Ladybug did but that didn’t feel right. Chat had already been acting off before the ambush and confirming he was in fact Adrien was like the final nail in the coffin. Luka had had suspicions of who the Chat was and just whose side he was on but after everything, the confirmation was bitter. According to Sass, Luka had known who he and Ladybug were but the memories of their identities faded as a safety measure to keep the team’s identities safe. Luka would only have kept the memories if both heroes had accepted he knew and trusted him. It was weird but Luka just chalked it up to Miraculous Magic.

He wished he had been able to remember, if he had then maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t be standing in M-Lady…no. He had to stop. It didn't matter how much he told himself, Ladybug was Marinette. Marinette was Ladybug. They were one and the same and denying it to himself was more likely to hurt him than bring him healing. He couldn’t delude himself anymore. It hurt, it hurt so much, but he had to acknowledge the truth because that was the only way he’d be able to move forward and help protect the city that Marinette adored. He missed her. He missed her so much, but he had to do the healthy thing and not try and separate her from herself. It would be like he wasn’t giving her, her due credit and Marinette deserved so much credit. “If Adrien and his dad got the earrings…then why did the mansion explode like it did?” Luka asked so they could continue. They could all mourn and scream and cry after, but right now they needed information.

“I’m not sure.” Nooroo admitted. “Everything was happening so fast. Gabriel was so close to making his wish and magic was everywhere in preparation. But I felt it, it was this enormous feeling of betrayal and anger that washed over all of us. Tikki looked so scared and worried and Plagg looked shocked. I had turned to where I felt the emotions and it was no surprise they were coming from Ladybug…but just as I looked at her, there was this awful cracking and whistling. Like something was breaking through the roof and flooring at high speed. I panicked as did the other kwami but Tikki looked…she looked like she recognized what was happening.”

“She looked like her heart broke.” Duusuu mumbled, their voice was soft and scratchy. They seemed to be in pain.

“The room filled with this bright, bright red light and then next thing I know…the mansion exploded. Ladybug was nowhere to be seen.” Nooroo flew over to Luka and pointed at the open pink bag in his hands. “Tikki and Plagg know what happened, but because of all the ambient magic, plus the overwhelming emotions swirling in the air, and their own merging being interrupted, they were hurt.”

“Something like this hasn’t happened in a long time.” Wayzz admitted.

“So there is a way to help them?” Kagami asked.

Wayzz nodded. “Yes. But it will take time…a lot of time. I’ve never seen them so bad. The best we can do is return them to the Miracle Box. It will heal them, but the damage is great and as I said, it will take time. Nooroo, I imagine you called us here, not only to tell us the truth but also because of the Miracle Box.”

“That’s right. The Miracle Box will be vulnerable if there is no one to watch over it as it heals our friends. I sensed the box here and that’s only because Duusuu and I are both still being affected by the interrupted magic. We’re more sensitive right now.”

“One of our holders will definitely protect the box.” Pollen declared. “They are all brave heroes.”

All the humans looked at one another in disbelief. Marinette had been guarding this box all while being Ladybug? They knew she was amazing but this was something else entirely. Luka sadly guessed that this is why she was always so stressed. If they had to watch this box and protect it then so be it. He’d do it for Marinette, no matter the cost. Now all that they needed to decide was who to send the box with.

Next Chapter

#mldc #mldc crossover #ml x dc #mldccrossover #ml red lantern au #red lantern marinette #mldccrossover Luka Couffaine | Viperion #mldccrossover Kagami Tsurugi | Donryu #ml salt fic #chat noir salt #adrien agreste salt #mldccrossover Marc Anciel | Noc-Turtle #mldccrossover Nathaniel Kurtzberg | Fox-Tail #mldccrossover Chloe Bourgeois | Bee-Witch #mldccrossover kwamis

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manawari · 7 months ago

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~ Lifeguard!Byung-gyu × Lee Ju-hee ~

After months of endless work at the hospital, Lee Ju-hee finally broke free from the chains as she embarked on a trip to the beach with her friends. In the midst of joy and carefree moments, a certain lifeguard suddenly caught her eye.

"We're here!"

"Oh my God, I missed this place!"

"Hee-jin, quickly get the camera!"

"I can't wait to put on my new swimsuit!!"

"I wonder if there are any cute boys around. . . "

"Ye-rim! I thought this vacation was going to be about ourselves only?" Ju-hee playfully chastised her friend. "Think about boys for some other time."

"Wow, Dr. Lee Ju-hee has definitely signed off, huh?" Ye-rim snickered.

"Can you blame me? I have been waiting for this trip for a year!"

"Sweetheart, aren't we all?" Gina grinned from the driver's seat. "Mr. Choi was kind enough to let Bora and I take a few days off."

Lee Bora laughed. "I can't believe we left Ki-hoon alone!"

"He can handle anything, Bora. And he wants to be promoted, remember? Take it as us doing him a favor."

"Right."

Ju-hee chuckled along, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned closer to the open window, allowing the wind to brush against her like a mirthful embrace. It felt different than when she was in the city — the wind was fresh and no responsibilities chained around her mind. Well, Ju-hee had set them aside on purpose, choosing to spend her short vacation with moments she would cherish forever.

Gina maneuvered the van into one of the available parking spaces and the girls climbed out, bringing along their bags to make their way to the reception. Hee-jin conversed with the receptionist about the cabin she had reserved.

"Se-mi and Ji-woo would've loved to be here," said Bora. "Sadly, organizing schedules with your friends as an adult is tough."

"Then let's go here again next time," Gina suggested. "If they can't still be available, I'll drag them here myself."

Indeed, it was difficult. Ju-hee had missed several trips due to her med school, choosing to focus on her path toward her career above the desire to create new happy memories. She couldn't remember the last time she found herself in such a paradise called the beach.

Hee-jin returned to the group with the key in her hand. Ye-rim squealed in excitement and grabbed her friend's arm, urging her to take the lead to where their cabin was located. Palm trees swayed lazily amidst the warm, fragrant breeze that carried the scent of saltwater and flowers, pristine white sand stretched throughout the place, glowing beneath the inviting sunlight, and the waves rolled over the shore in rhythmic whispers, leaving the sand drenched in its wake and foams sparkling as it retreated to the sea.

Mingled laughter echoed and a symphony of birds chirped, weaving into the blissful atmosphere. Beach cabins and huts added a fine touch for those who wished to be closer to the sea. The girls arrived at their designated cabin — the place accommodated two beds, though mattresses were available in the closet for those who could not fit in the beds.

Once they settled their bags and luggage, the girls quickly brought out their swimwear, getting ready for the sea instead of a few moments to rest after hours of ceaseless driving. It was clear their excitement got the best of them. While Ju-hee had brought out her brown halterneck swimsuit, she still chose to wear her jean shorts, not quite fond of showing a complete expanse of her legs. The swimsuit only managed to cover her chest, leaving a portion of her stomach exposed, and it also embraced her figure like a second skin.

"Wow, you got some sweet figure there, Ju-hee!" Gina remarked, spraying perfume on her strawberry-blonde hair. She was already clad in her two-piece outfit, accentuating her curves.

Ju-hee blushed at the compliment. "Well, not as good as yours, Gina."

"Nonsense! Everyone looks so pretty right now!" Ye-rim chirped, clad in a floral bikini. "Oh my God, we should look for a nice flower to put on you, Hee-jin!"

"Maybe later. I don't want to soak the poor flower the second we jump into the water." Hee-jin chuckled.

"Let's go look for seashells too!" Bora exclaimed, tying a purple band around her hair, matching her outfit. "I saw some pictures on the resort's page, and I wanna see if they are true. And hopefully, we'll bring home for each of us, and Se-mi and Ji-woo too."

Her friends agreed ecstatically.

The group soon exited their cabin, giggling once their feet touched the scorching sand. Ju-hee's heart raced rapidly as she made her way to the sea as if hearing it call her name, and the happiness had never overflowed so hard.

Water splashed upon their weight and the waves collided with their skin. Ye-rim plunged into the saltwater and started splashing Gina, who immediately retaliated. Ju-hee laughed until she felt her arm being grabbed by Hee-jin, who was smirking as she dragged her across the waves. Ju-hee yelped and fought against her friend's grip, only then to have Bora rush in to push her into the water.

She resurfaced and coughed out the water. Hee-jin and Bora laughed, making her glare icily at them, so Ju-hee grabbed Bora's wrist to bring her down. She turned to Hee-jin this time, the raven-haired woman held her hands up and told her to not do it, but Ju-hee wouldn't allow Hee-jin to keep her hair dry when the rest already had been soaked.

"Nope!" She grabbed Hee-jin by the wrist, causing her friend to protest.

Eventually, Hee-jin crashed into the water, with Bora laughing at her as she floated. The group of friends played under the cloudless sky, the sun was at its peak, and not a tinge of worry lingered in their minds, breaking free from reality to appreciate the beauty of their paradise.

Suddenly, a splash collided with both of their bodies. Ju-hee instinctively pulled her niece close and looked up, spotting a man running across the water and eventually diving into the sea.

A few moments later, Ju-hee found herself on the shore, letting the waves lap over her feet. Gina, Ye-rim, Hee-jin, and Bora had begun to search for seashells, to which Ju-hee elected to sit out to take a break, yet she promised them to join once she restored her stamina. In the meantime, she drew her finger across the sand, forming shapes and doodles.

"My son!"

A wail from a mother caught her attention. Ju-hee raised her head and saw a small crowd gathering, surrounding the woman, who was crying her heart out for her child. Curiously, Ju-hee stood up and made her way to the crowd, just in time to spot a lifeguard emerging from the waves, striding to the shore with a kid in his arms.

"Don't worry, ma'am, your kid's going to be fine!" The man said to the woman, bringing the kid over to gently place him on the dry ground. The lifeguard parted the kid's mouth and lowered his ear, sensing if there were any signs of breathing, then he put his hands on top of each other, curling his fingers to the front, and pressed them onto the chest.

Ju-hee watched in bated breath whilst the lifeguard began to pound the unconscious child's chest. The mother sobbed, afraid of her son's fate. As much as the beach was fun, there could be risks underneath, especially with the sea that could drag a person to its depths.

Finally, the young boy let out a gasp and the lifeguard placed his hand on his back, helping him rise and allowing him to cough the air and bits of water clogged in his lungs. The mother cried out her son's name and rushed to pull him into her arms, cradling him gently.

Ju-hee sighed in relief, smiling at the sweet moment between the mother and her son. She was glad that the kid had survived. The lifeguard stood up and walked in her direction, only to have her heart skip a beat, seeing his athletic build and the droplets of water glistening under the sun. His fingers combed through his sleek black hair. It was as if she was seeing the Greek God Apollo himself. . . But before she could think of anything else, their bodies bumped in contact.

"Oh, sor—" her sentence fell short. Ju-hee realized the placement of her hand on the lifeguard's firm chest, causing her to flush in embarrassment. She turned away and intertwined her fingers on her front as she stared at the mother and son to distract herself until the lifeguard finally walked away.

What the heck just happened to you, Ju-hee?! She scolded herself.

Min Byung-gyu had a deep love for the sea. It brought him peace and warmth. The sound of the waves splashing the shore was music to his ears, as well as the distant chirps of the soaring birds in the sky. His profession as a lifeguard gifted him that opportunity, but also being there to help someone in need as the sea could be more than just its beauty — it could be someone's biggest fear.

To be a lifeguard meant dedicating one's life to the safety of others, ensuring that everyone was safe on the beach while they enjoyed the sun. It brought him joy to see people having the time of their lives on the beach, enjoying the place as much as he did.

The wind carried a cool breeze as the sun was beginning to set. Byung-gyu dismissed his position from the lifeguard tower and brought his clean shirt along as he dismounted from the ladder. Some people had begun to retreat to their respective accommodations for a rest, and he too deserved a rest after watching the beach since sunrise.

Hmm, a historical movie? Maybe a box of ice cream or ramyeon on the side? He wondered.

Then, his eyes caught something. A young woman sat alone in a tree trunk, draped in a white cardigan that hung above her shorts. It took a second for Byung-gyu to remember her as the one whom he had bumped into earlier, and needless to say, she was pretty too — long, sleek ginger hair with fair skin, and striking blue eyes that bore semblance to the sea and sky.

He had never seen such beautiful eyes.

His footsteps began to make a beeline toward her, greeting. "Hey there, miss."

She looked up and their eyes instantly met. "Er, hello." The woman said.

"You seem all by yourself. Did you come alone to this beach?"

"Oh, no, I didn't." She kindly shook her head with a small smile. "I actually came with my friends. They're back at the cabin we are staying in, but I decided to head out and see the sunset. I've never seen the sun like this before in Seoul."

"You came for a vacation?"

She nodded. "Yep! Work has been tough ever since I graduated from med school."

"Med school? Congrats!" Byung-gyu smiled. "I used to study medicine too, also first aid, but I decided to pursue being a lifeguard."

"Really?"

"Yeah—" He paused, gesturing his hand on the spot next to her. "May I?"

"Sure."

Byung-gyu sat down and flashed her a smile then continued. "I like being at the beach. It's peaceful. And being a lifeguard has both of the two things I want to do — help people in need and the place itself."

"I understand the feeling," she smiled. "As much as I would love to live in a place like this, I still prefer to stay in the hospital where I can save lives."

"Impressive," he grinned. "Oh, I'm Min Byung-gyu, by the way."

"Lee Ju-hee."

Lee Ju-hee. He took note of it in his mind. "Beautiful name, Ms. Lee."

Her cheeks reddened. Identical to how he had seen her when her hand accidentally went to his chest. However, given the growing darkness in the sky, the color wasn't as prominent, but it did not stop Byung-gyu from chuckling.

"Have you seen that lifeguard over there? He looks cute!"

"Why is he staring at us?"

"No, he's not!" Ye-rim told Gina, who had a blunt expression on her face. She giggled. "He's looking at Ju-hee!"

"Wait, what?"

"Come again??" Both Bora and Hee-jin looked at Ye-rim in question.

Ju-hee, on the other hand, chose to ignore her friends and pretended she wasn't hearing anything. She proceeded to pad her hands across the water as she sat on the stone. The girls chattered amongst themselves, giggling even, and it made her roll her eyes in chagrin; who cares if Byung-gyu was staring at her? It could be that he was merely doing his job, watching over people at the sea.

"Watch this— Ju-hee! Wave your hand!" Ye-rim told her.

Ju-hee glared at her friend. "No."

"Come on. . . " Ye-rim pouted.

"Come on, Ju-hee! It's only a test." Hee-jin chimed in.

She sighed. No result would come out if she kept protesting and her friends nagging her. Ju-hee shifted on the stone and looked in the distance, noticing Byung-gyu from his seat at the tower. Her lips curled into a small smile and raised her hand to wave.

He reciprocated the gesture.

Her friends burst into squeals. Lee Bora began to splash her and Ju-hee used her hands to shield herself from the attacks, yet fully aware that her defenses were futile.

Ju-hee eventually left her friends and swam back to the shore. The waves rolled over her ankles as her feet left marks on the sand, she made her way to the deckchair where her and her friends' belongings had been kept. Grabbing her sheer cardigan, Ju-hee pulled it across her arms and tied the hem on the front of her stomach; her black halter bra could still be seen through the thin fabric, but she paid no mind and went for the long white sarong to knot around her waist.

"Hey!"

She turned around and smiled. "Byung-gyu."

"What's up? Your friends didn't tease you much, hm?" He snickered, lifting his sunglasses to his forehead. This time, he was shown in a grey compress shirt with the resort's logo.

Ju-hee scoffed. "Don't mind them. I just left because I am thirsty and craving coconut juice."

"Want me to accompany you?"

She flashed him a funny look. "Aren't you supposed to be on duty, Mr. Lifeguard?"

"I'm not the only lifeguard here," Byung-gyu rolled his eyes.

"Still. I can handle myself." Ju-hee winked at him. "Now, if you excuse me—"

"How about later?" Byung-gyu stepped in to block her path. "Sundown? After my shift?"

"Uh. . . What for?"

"A swim, perhaps? It's been a while since I swam without the intention of rescue." He shrugged. "C'mon! Unless you have other plans with your friends. . . "

She had. There was a band arriving at the beach for a small concert, Lee Bora urged everyone to go watch the live performance, and obviously, they all agreed to go. Ju-hee was also thrilled when she heard the news, she had been listening to the band for so long and knowing they would soon have a concert in the same place as her for free, it was like a chance of a lifetime.

But here she was. . . Min Byung-gyu just invited her to hang out with him.

This trip is about you and your friends only, Ju-hee. A voice spoke in her mind. You cannot simply break it just because a cute guy asked you out! Fight the urge—

"I'll see you then." Words inevitably came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

Byung-gyu smiled widely. "Alright. Meet me at the shore?"

"O— okay." Ju-hee almost stammered. She quickly walked past him and her hands curled against her skirt, grasping for self-control, but her heartbeat pounded against her ribcage so fast to the point it could break through.

She couldn't believe she had chosen to ditch her friends and one of her favorite bands for a lifeguard.

Lee Ju-hee came up with a plan.

First, she would come along with her friends to the stadium where the band would be performing. Second, she would stick around for a few moments or songs until she came up with an excuse to leave the concert. Third, and lastly, she would meet up with Byung-gyu at the shore.

God knows what would happen if she told her friends that the guy they had been teasing her about was the reason. . .

People gathered at the stadium and several of them were already cheering for the band members even though the show hadn't officially started yet. Ju-hee squeezed through the crowd behind her friends as they searched for a good spot to view the stage.

The show finally began. The audience sang along as the group raised the lively atmosphere, encouraging everyone to dance to the music and feel the rhythm with them. But all Ju-hee could think of was Byung-gyu, wondering if he had already been waiting for her at the shore, she glanced at her friends, guilt nibbling in her chest as she was about to move on to her next step.

"Uh, Hee-jin?" She tapped her friend's shoulder. Hee-jin gave her a confused look, and judging the atmosphere around them, Ju-hee leaned up to whisper in her ear. "I don't feel good. Do you mind if I head back to the cabin and rest?"

Hee-jin frowned. "Aw, Ju-hee. . . "

"Sorry!"

"No, it's okay! It must be from what you ate earlier. Go, I'll record some videos for you, so you can see what you missed." Hee-jin encouraged her. "Just don't forget to take meds, alright?"

Ju-hee smiled. "Thank you."

Squeezing Hee-jin's hand in gratitude, Ju-hee left and snuck through the crowd of people to get to the exit. The noise faded from her eardrums as she walked farther, bringing relief to surge through her veins, followed by excitement.

She saw his silhouette where the waves touched the shore. Ju-hee took a deep breath and tucked a strand of her hair behind her hair as she approached him. The sky was painted in hues of purple, pink, and gold, as the sun was dipping from the horizon, casting a soft glow across the sea, and the waves whispered gently upon the shore.

The wind had grown colder, hinting at the arrival of the beautiful night. Ju-hee couldn't help but stare at the ethereal sight of the sea, shimmering under the last rays of sunlight, a magical and delicate mix between the farewell of day and the greetings of the evening.

"Byung-gyu." She finally spoke.

He whirled his head over his shoulder. "Ju-hee. Wow, you looked quite dressed."

"I was at the concert with my friends," she shrugged. She had a white blouse and a pretty black skirt, which swayed against her hips in the soft breeze. "But I planned to stay there for a while since I made a promise. You don't have to feel bad or anything, Byung-gyu, as it's completely my decision. It doesn't matter if I missed anything or not."

"Well, I won't be held responsible if you regretted anything from the concert," he flashed her a grin.

Ju-hee rolled her eyes. "I doubt I'd do."

Byung-gyu chuckled. He twitched his head as if in signal. "Come with me."

And so, she followed him. Ju-hee increased her pace to walk closely alongside Byung-gyu. Silence wrapped them like a blanket, comfortable and not a tinge of tension between them. . . Only a few inches separating their hands — Ju-hee noticed, but she suppressed the urge to link their fingers together. She wondered if his hands were warm, contrasting against the cold atmosphere, or soft enough when held.

She flinched upon realizing what she was thinking. Control your thoughts, Ju-hee.

Byung-gyu brought her to an area behind the large stone on the shore, revealing a stone path toward the sea. Waves crashed against the rocks with a harmonic, soothing cadence, yet harder than in the sand. As Ju-hee observed it, she suddenly caught Byung-gyu in the middle of taking his shirt off. . . But it was too late for her to look away now. The fading sunlight traced the fine contours of shoulders, subtly glowing down to the evident muscles in his arms and his torso.

Tossing his shirt aside, Byung-gyu sprinted forward and lunged for a dive into the sea, staying underneath for a few seconds before submerging. He released a quick gasp and ran his hands to his hair, sweeping it to the back of his neck.

"You can sit over here since I forgot to tell you to bring spare clothes." He pointed at the rock near them. Byung-gyu moved his hand to the back of his neck bashfully. "My bad."

"Don't worry, I— uh, I am actually wearing a swimsuit underneath." She blushed. "Just in case!"

Byung-gyu smiled. "Alright then."

To her surprise, he turned around to let her take off her clothes. Ju-hee's heart fluttered, knowing she'd be completely uncomfortable if someone watched her strip clothes, and since he had given her space, it made her feel some things.

Ju-hee slipped out from her sandals and discarded her blouse and skirt together on the ground, leaving her in a halterneck swimsuit she had worn on her first swim at the beach. She held onto the rock as she carefully stepped down on the stone beneath her feet, the water increased to her chest-length when she padded toward Byung-gyu, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hey," he told her softly. "So, wanna let me show you something?"

"What is it?"

"It's one of the things I learned when I was training to be a lifeguard. Do you know how to float?"

"Uh. . . No, I do not."

"Good. In situations when a person is found drowning, we usually tow them to safety and make sure their throat is protected. Here, let me—" he waded closer to her and extended his arms. "Don't worry, I'll be holding you the entire time."

In a bated breath, Ju-hee grasped onto his forearms, her nails digging into his skin as he began to wade through the water, away from the shore.

"S— shit—" she cursed, no longer feeling the stones under her feet.

"Hey, hey, it's alright! I got you." Byung-gyu's soothing voice exuded through her senses. His thumbs rubbed her soft skin in reassurance. Ju-hee jutted her chin forward to keep the water's surface from rising higher, somehow struggling as she had nothing to stand upon, only relying on the man in front of her for dear life. "Now, let the water carry you. Float."

"H— how?"

Byung-gyu shook his head and changed his position, shifting to the other side. Ju-hee instantly clung her arms to his neck, watching him move gently until she felt his hand under her legs, lifting her weight to the surface. She didn't fight against it anymore and allowed herself to be light.

"Just relax," he whispered. "It will be easier for the water to carry you if you're calm. Simply put, the sea will treat you the way you treat it — if you panic, it'll bring you down. But if you're calm and trust the waves, the sea will take care of you."

Ju-hee nodded. His hand glided away and her legs remained afloat. His touch returned to her forearm, finding herself relaxing for once. She exhaled softly through her nostrils.

"See? With conscious victims, we try to calm them down first, earning their trust and reassuring them that they'll be saved." Byung-gyu explained. "The only time we take desperate measures is if the victim keeps panicking. But in your case, you have done well."

"Have you—" she swallowed to keep her voice steady. "Have you done this with someone else? Just curious."

"Nope."

"Really? Are you not joking? As in, not at all, Byung-gyu?"

"Uh, why should I lie?" Byung-gyu raised an eyebrow. Then, he let out a smirk. "What would you do if I said yes?"

Ju-hee glared at him deadly. "I don't hang out with guys who like to entertain multiple girls, Byung-gyu."

"It's the truth! Don't tell me you strike me that way, Ju-hee. I'm anything but that — my mom raised me to be a gentleman."

"Fine," she grumbled. "The way you act seems like you easily capture attention from ladies. Charming them effortlessly and all that."

"Lee Ju-hee, do you find me attractive?" Byung-gyu jested. "If that's the case, then I have successfully captured your attention, yes?"

Ju-hee turned away, choosing not to respond. She didn't know if she could give him the obvious answer — yes, right the second you showed up! Her heart screamed. She came for a vacation, to build new happy memories, not to find herself infatuated with someone. . . But heavens, all it had to take was a mere lifeguard to sway her off her feet.

"You intrigue me, you know?" He murmured. The way his breath was close to her ear brought shivers down her spine, causing her to tremble "It's like in historical dramas, you're a princess who hailed from a wealthy kingdom who wished to break free from responsibilities and choose her happiness for once."

"How accurate."

"It really is," he chuckled. "So it's no wonder why I found myself drawn to you."

Same here. Butterflies swarmed her stomach. She sighed. "I won't stay long here. After this night, I'll be leaving with my friends to go back to the city."

"I see no problem with that." Ju-hee opened her mouth to protest and Byung-gyu cut her off. "I'll leave my number in a sticky note next to your cabin's door for you to see once you leave."

"Byung-gyu. . . "

"Hm?"

Ju-hee ended up shaking her head. "Nothing. Let's swim instead of lingering here."

She brought down her legs and languidly turned around, trailing her hands across his shoulders. A rosemary scent wafted to her nose, mixed with a salty undertone and coconut. Her heart almost skipped a beat when he held her waist, though Ju-hee masked it with a confident look, letting out a giggle, and plunged down past him, dragging his hand along with her. Byung-gyu easily joined her under the currents, entering a world of their own where nobody could see them, hands linked and hearts intertwined.

It was a moment Ju-hee would never forget. There had been a lot of memories formed at the beach, but the ones with Byung-gyu were her favorite.

"Boy, are we really leaving already?" Ye-rim sighed, zipping her bag closed. "I don't want to go back to work just yet. . . "

Hee-jin laughed. "Relax, Ye-rim. We'll go back soon."

"Unless you want to lose your job," Gina joked. "Just think that these past two days have been a blast!"

"Next time, we'll take a leave for a week. Oh! Should we look for a new resort?" Lee Bora piped up. "This one looks so beautiful, but I want to travel more!"

"Sounds like a great idea! What do you— where are you going, Ju-hee?"

"I'll just be heading out for a bit," said Ju-hee, making her way to the door. She pulled the knob open and looked around until her eyes fell on a small box on the floor.

Smiling, she made her way over and peeled the paper from the top; it had the written contact number of Byung-gyu and a small note that read 'don't forget me! ;) hope you'll like the present I got for you inside the box.'. Ju-hee glanced at the box and took the lid open, causing her eyes to widen at the sight of its content.

A big, beautiful seashell nestled upon a clustered chiffon fabric. Shades of nacreous white blended perfectly with pinks and soft streaks of lavender. It gleamed under the sunlight, highlighting its polished texture created by the ocean; a natural masterpiece. The ridges extended across the surface and the curves inwardly rolled inside of the shell, adding depth to its magnificent form, as well as seashell's spiraled edge — sprinkled with brown specks — to complete the overall essence.

Ju-hee parted her lips in surprise, holding a beautiful seashell as big as this felt as if a gemstone was in her hands. She stood up and glanced at the distance, catching none other than Min Byung-gyu himself. He wore that crooked grin on his face whilst his sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes from the stark sunlight, and his hand held a life buoy by his hip.

Another lifeguard approached him, nudging him to the sea as if ushering him to get to work. Ju-hee chuckled, tucking the seashell closer to her, giving it a light squeeze. She could only hope for fate to bring her and Byung-gyu together soon, if not, one day.

And if that day ever came, Ju-hee wouldn't mind having another swim with him.

#a ficlet inspired by the beach theme in the game!#oh cool perfect timing it's byung-gyu's bday too #solo leveling #min byung gyu #lee ju hee #minlee #rei scribbles

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