#erased took away my heart like seriously

[ikkyfics]

When the Stars Fade

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises.

Warnings: dad!remus, mom!reader, est. relationship, no use of y/n, no use of a baby name, angst, no war au, sensitive content, mention of death, suicide, (according to dear @lupinzlover) major/massively giant hurt&comfort- in which remus loses everything

A/N: my dear lovely @boromoony, I know it took a while to fulfill your request (and reading it broke my heart a little) but I hope you can enjoy it <33 and I think we'll need some comfort later?

Masterlist

Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises. You had tried to reassure him, a tender smile on your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You’re just tired, love,” you said, your voice so calm it was hard to think otherwise. “Just rest, alright?”

“But—”

“Remus,” you gently chided, brushing away a stubborn strand of hair that insisted on falling over his eyes. Silver strands had begun to weave their way through the brown. “We’ll be back before you even notice. I promise.”

He wanted to protest—there were a thousand and one ways to argue—but he wanted to believe you. So he only nodded, feeling a small smile tug at his lips when you leaned in, kissing him softly, as if afraid to worsen the damage left by the last transformation.

“Just… don’t take too long, please,” he murmured against your lips.

“I won’t,” you promised, a bright smile on your lips as you pulled away.

Remus watched as you crouched beside the little one, your eyes softening when they met his over her small shoulder. The morning was quiet, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the soft giggles of the little girl, who was still playing with the hem of your coat.

“Shall we say goodbye to Daddy?” you asked gently, encouraging her with a warm smile.

She hesitated, clutching the stuffed toy in her hands—a small fabric wolf, its fur already worn from countless nights spent embraced in sleep. “Daddy’s sick?” she asked, her voice carrying the kind of innocent concern that only someone so small and blissfully unaware of the world’s horrors could have.

Remus swallowed hard, his heart clenching in his chest. He forced himself to smile, even as pain pulsed through every nerve in his body. “Daddy’s just tired, sweetheart,” he reassured her, his voice rough but warm, like a thick blanket on a cold night. “But I’ll be alright, I promise.”

She seemed to consider his words, her eyes—so much like his—studying him with a seriousness far beyond her age. Then, as if deciding he was telling the truth, she wiggled free from your grasp and ran toward the bed, stretching out her tiny arms.

“Kisses make everything better, Daddy,” she announced with conviction, pushing herself up on the mattress to reach his face.

Remus let out a quiet chuckle, the pain momentarily forgotten as he leaned in just enough for her to press a loud, exaggerated kiss to his cheek. “I think I’m already starting to feel better,” he admitted, with a sincerity that made your heart melt.

You stepped closer, lifting the little one into your arms, smoothing her unruly curls as you smiled at Remus. “Now it’s my turn,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. Before he could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both soft and full of unspoken promises. He melted into you, aching body and all, as if that simple touch could erase the last few days of torment.

When you pulled away, it was only enough to rest your forehead against his. “Take care of yourself while we’re gone, okay? No pushing yourself past your limits.”

He sighed, exhaustion evident, but still managed to say, “I promise.” And though there was resignation in his voice, there was also a quiet trust, as if he truly wanted to believe everything would be alright.

You set the little one back down and began leading her toward the door, but not before casting one last glance at him—full of a tenderness that wrapped around him like warmth on a winter morning. She waved enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she called out, “Bye, Daddy! We’ll be back really soon!”

“Bye, my little one,” he replied, watching as she disappeared down the hall, followed by you.

When the sound of the door closing echoed through the house, silence settled once more. Remus let his body sink into the pillows, his eyes slipping shut. He could still catch the lingering scent in the air—yours, mixed with the faint lavender that always clung to his daughter.

He turned his head to the side, resting it against the pillow’s softness. He knew he should get up, maybe make some tea or at least check if anything needed tending to, but the mere thought of moving even a finger felt unbearable. The exhaustion wasn’t just physical; it was something that had settled deep in his bones, a weariness that no amount of sleep or rest ever seemed to truly mend.

“It’s alright,” he whispered into the empty room, as if the words themselves could chase away the unease gnawing at his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus on anything other than the unsettling feeling that something was off. But exhaustion was stronger than worry. His body no longer gave him a choice, and he felt himself slipping further away.

The world around him faded, distant and blurred, the only thing lingering in his mind being the soft scent in the air.

Remus never noticed the exact moment he fell asleep.

There was no transition—just a slow, quiet fading, like a candle burning down to its final flicker.

And then, his body surrendered to the pull of sleep.

Remus woke with a jolt. A sharp, insistent sound echoed through the house, reverberating against the walls in a rhythm that seemed to match the frantic beating of his heart. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness filling the room. What had once been the warm glow of morning had now turned into deep, heavy shadows.

The first thing he felt was pain. Not a simple ache, but something deep, visceral. Every muscle, every bone in his body throbbed with the painful memory of the transformation. His fingers trembled as he brought them to his forehead, trying to ease the pressure building there. His chest burned, as if something unseen was pressing down on him with relentless force. He took a deep breath—or at least tried to—but the air felt thick, too heavy to fill his lungs.

The knocking continued, louder now, as if demanding his attention. He tried to sit up, but the movement sent a sharp pain straight to his ribs—a cruel reminder of the violence he inflicted upon himself every month. The pain made him choke on a low groan, but he ignored it, focusing on the sound that had woken him. Something was wrong. He could feel it in the air, like an invisible current buzzing around him. The weight in his chest, which had once felt like nothing more than lingering worry, was now suffocating.

With difficulty, he forced himself to his feet, every step a battle against exhaustion and pain. The house was silent, save for the persistent knocking. He passed through the living room, where his daughter's toys were still scattered across the floor, just as she had left them. The sight made something inside him tighten. You always complained about the mess, but now… now it felt untouched, as if moving anything would break something far more fragile than just the order of the house.

When he finally reached the door, he hesitated. A part of him didn’t want to open it. A part of him knew that whatever was on the other side would not be good. Still, with trembling hands, he turned the doorknob.

The man standing outside was unfamiliar. Tall, severe-looking, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. The Ministry badge hung from the pocket of his jacket, a silent reminder of his authority. He looked uneasy, as if the words he was about to speak already weighed on him before they had even been said.

"Mr. Lupin?" The man’s voice was low but firm, carrying something Remus couldn’t quite identify yet.

"Yes," he answered, his voice rough with exhaustion and confusion. "What’s going on?"

"I… it’s a sensitive matter. May I come in?" the man asked, glancing briefly at the surroundings as if assessing the place.

"No," Remus answered almost immediately, his chest tightening further. He gripped the doorframe, his knuckles turning white. "Just tell me what happened."

The official hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the refusal, but something in Remus’s eyes made him continue. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if he needed to brace himself for the impact of his own words.

"Mr. Lupin… there was an accident. Your wife and daughter were involved." He paused, but continued before Remus could process it. "Unfortunately… neither of them survived."

For a moment, the world stopped. The words echoed in his mind, repeating in a cruel loop, like a broken record. He blinked, once, twice, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. But the nightmare was real. He could see it in the man’s eyes, in the way he avoided direct contact, in the tension that seemed to suffocate the air around them.

"No," Remus finally managed to say, his voice breaking. He took a step back, as if distance could undo what he had just heard. "No… you’re wrong. This can’t be right."

"Mr. Lupin," the official began, but Remus raised a hand, cutting him off.

"You’re wrong!" he shouted, his voice filled with a pain so raw it seemed to tear through the air. "They were fine! I saw them this morning! They were fine!"

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, deep down, that something had been wrong. That he had felt it all day—that lingering feeling, that inexplicable weight.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees in the doorway, his hands gripping his hair so tightly it was as if he wanted to rip it out. He shook his head, muttering "no, no, no" over and over, as if the words could somehow undo what had been said.

The official took a hesitant step forward, but Remus stopped him with a look so utterly broken that the man froze in place.

"I should have gone with them," Remus whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I should have protected them. This is my fault…"

And there, in the dim glow of his empty house, with the weight of those words still hanging in the air, Remus shattered. He didn’t just cry; he broke. Every sob was a strangled scream, every tear a piece of himself that he knew he would never get back.

Remus woke with a jolt, the sound of your voice calling his name shattering the suffocating veil of the nightmare. It was as if he were emerging from a deep, dark ocean, struggling to breathe, to understand where he was. The dim evening light filtered through the curtains, and he realized he was in bed, the sheets tangled around him, damp with sweat. But it was your voice—soft, worried, so incredibly real—that anchored him to reality.

"Remus? Love, are you okay?"

He turned quickly, eyes wide, still filled with a pain that seemed impossible to contain. There you were, kneeling beside the bed, your expression full of concern and tenderness, a gentle hand resting on his arm. Before any words could be spoken, before he could even process that it had all been just a nightmare, he reached for you, his arms wrapping around your waist with an almost desperate urgency.

"You're here," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "You're here. You’re both here."

You barely had time to react before he buried his face in your shoulder, holding you with a force that seemed to want to merge you into one. That’s when you felt the warm dampness on your shirt—he was crying. His tears were silent but intense, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you as if afraid you might disappear.

"Remus," you murmured softly, your fingers threading through his hair in an instinctive, soothing gesture. "Hey, love, it's okay. We're here. I'm here. Everything's okay."

He shook his head against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you even more, as if trying to absorb your presence, your life. He seemed to be breathing you in—the familiar lavender scent in your hair, the warmth of your body—everything that proved you were real. That this wasn’t another cruel illusion.

"It was a nightmare," he finally managed to say, his voice barely audible. "Oh, Merlin, it was horrible. I thought… I thought I lost you."

Before you could respond, there was a small sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed by a sleepy, curious voice. "Daddy?"

The little one stood at the bedroom door, clutching one of her favorite stuffed toys against her chest. The moment he saw her, Remus let out a shaky breath, as if the crushing weight on his chest had suddenly lifted.

He reached out for her without letting go of you entirely. "Come here, my little one."

She ran to him in that clumsy, adorable way that only a child could, climbing onto the bed with your help. As soon as she reached her father, he pulled her into the embrace, holding both of you with a protective intensity that spoke louder than any words. He kissed her forehead several times, murmuring between kisses, "My little girl… my love… you're okay. You're here."

She blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, clearly sensing the emotion in the air even if she didn’t fully understand it. "Daddy, are you crying?"

Remus laughed, a low, broken sound, but still filled with tenderness. "Yes, I am, my angel. But don’t worry, Daddy's okay now. You saved me."

"Saved you from what?" She tilted her head, wrapping her tiny arms around him.

"From myself," he answered softly, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. Then he looked at you, his eyes still glistening with tears, but now overflowing with a gratitude that was almost too much to hold. "And from a nightmare. A terrible nightmare."

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your fingers intertwining with his as you offered him a reassuring smile. "We're here, Remus. It was just a bad dream. We're okay, all of us. And we always will be."

He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face—the way your eyes shone, the soft curve of your lips. "I don’t know what I’d do without you." His voice was so raw, so vulnerable, it made your heart ache.

"You don’t have to think about that," you murmured, your other hand sliding over his face, wiping away any lingering tears. "Because you’ll never be without us."

The little one, now nestled between the two of you, decided to contribute, cupping Remus’s face in her small hands. "I take care of you, Daddy," she declared with the seriousness of someone who truly believed she could protect the whole world. "I'm strong."

Remus smiled, a tired but utterly loving smile. "I know you are, my angel. You're the strongest girl in the world."

The night carried on with the three of you together, curled up in bed like a cocoon of warmth against any darkness that the world might try to cast. Remus didn’t let go of you or his daughter for even a second, and the feeling of your warmth surrounding him was all he needed to keep the shadows at bay. The nightmare still echoed somewhere in the back of his mind, but now, wrapped in the love of his family, he knew he was safe. And he knew he’d never have to face anything alone.

Things should have happened like that, but the world is not made of fairy tales.

You didn’t come home that night, or any other night. Remus never heard the comforting sound of his daughter’s laughter again, never felt the warmth of your hands in his hair or the soft touch of tiny fingers holding his face with the same seriousness of someone who believed they could heal the world. There were no more mornings where the bed was warmed by the bodies he loved so much, no more nights where the weight of your presence beside him kept the darkness at bay. Everything had been ripped away so cruelly and abruptly, leaving behind an emptiness so devastating it seemed impossible to fill.

The days following the accident were a haze, each one more unbearable than the last. Remus didn’t remember the formalities—the words spoken by the Ministry officials on that fateful day, the empty condolences that felt so meaningless, the details of the accident that he barely managed to absorb. None of it mattered. Everything was a blur, except for the crushing certainty that you and your daughter were no longer there.

He was forced to face reality on the morning of the funeral. The coffin was too small, accompanied by another that, though larger, seemed just as wrong. He remembered standing there, paralyzed, as the earth was thrown over the caskets. The feeling of cold soil was almost tangible, as if each handful buried more than just the bodies—it buried his very soul along with them.

James, Sirius, and Peter were there. They stood beside him throughout the ceremony, their presence almost suffocating in their attempt to support their friend. James, his eyes red and glassy with unshed tears, tried to steady Remus when he wavered under the weight of it all. Sirius, always so loud and full of life, was silent, his face a mask of restrained grief as he stared at the caskets. And Peter, who never knew how to handle intense emotions, offered a trembling handshake and a look that overflowed with sadness he didn’t know how to express.

Despite their efforts, nothing they said or did seemed to reach Remus. Not James’s whispered reassurances, not Sirius’s hand on his shoulder, not Peter’s quiet solidarity. They tried, and he knew they tried, but the cruel truth was that no one could reach the abyss he was trapped in.

And then the house—the one you had turned into a home—became a mausoleum. The little girl’s toys were still scattered across the living room floor, her favorite blanket draped over the couch where she used to curl up with him. Your hairbrush remained in the bathroom, strands of your hair still woven into its bristles. Your clothes and hers still hung in the wardrobe, as if at any moment, you could walk through the door and undo this nightmare. But you didn’t. You never would.

James visited a few times, bringing food that Remus had no energy to eat, insisting on conversation. Sirius showed up, too, trying to cheer him up with stories from the past, desperate to coax a smile from him. Peter came once or twice, quiet as always, but his presence was a subtle reminder that they were still there for him. But none of it mattered. No words or gestures could fill the void you and your daughter had left behind.

The nights were the worst. The solitude was suffocating, and Remus would find himself sitting in the chair by the cold fireplace, staring at the portrait of you. A picture taken on a sunny day in the garden, your daughter on his lap while you sat beside him, laughing at something he could no longer remember. He spent hours looking at that image, desperately trying to anchor himself in the memories. But they weren’t enough. They could never replace the warmth of you, the sound of the voices he would never hear again.

He tried to move forward. For you. For James, Sirius, and Peter—for little Harry, who hadn’t even learned to speak yet—who kept showing up, who kept insisting that he wasn’t alone. But it was a lie. He was alone. Because without you and without her, the world was gray and empty, an existence he didn’t know how to endure.

And then, one morning, as the timid sun struggled to break through the gray clouds, he decided he couldn’t anymore. He sat on the bed—the same bed you once shared—and realized it no longer made sense. There was nothing left to fight for, no reason to stay. He was tired. So, so tired.

He left a single letter, written with trembling hands and a shattered heart. It wasn’t long, because there wasn’t much to say. Just one final confession of love, to you and to your daughter, and an apology for not being strong enough to go on without you.

When Remus’s body was found days later, he was surrounded by pictures of you both. The letter still lay beside the bed, the paper stained with tears. He looked peaceful, as if, for the first time in weeks, he had found some semblance of rest.

His grave was placed beside yours, just as he would have wanted. In the silent cemetery, three headstones stood side by side, marking what was once a family and what could have been. James, Sirius, and Peter were there the day he was buried. James was the last to leave, lingering beside his friend’s grave, his eyes glistening with tears he didn’t bother to hide.

On Remus’s headstone, only a simple inscription, yet one heavy with meaning:

Reunited with those he loved.

And so, the world lost another soul, drowned in a grief too heavy to bear.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Sampo Koski is the type of man who always manages to mix in pleasure with his business. If any sane person were to even simply glance at him, they'd know that the man was nothing but trouble.

That's what made him so fun to play around with.

A friends with benefits type of deal was just so perfect for the both of you. Neither wanted to get too deeply involved with the other but the chemistry between you two was off the charts. Heated glances were exchanged whenever you'd pass by him, his eyebrows raising cheekily high up as you'd recall the way Sampo would touch you in the cover of darkness, those skilled and thieving hands which would take their sweet time in making you quiver in pleasure.

Oh he was so horrible with how damn slow he could get, but to Hell with it all if it didn't feel good.

Breathless nothings were exchanged between the lovebirds as their bodies would do most of the talking, passion erasing any sort of rationale, lust clouding ones judgement. Those fleeting moments were intense as the sun itself - hot and hard to handle, it left the two breathless and aching but by everything and anything, the ache was so delectable. It felt like the personification of devouring the most delectable sweet ever created in the whole entire universe, only multiplied by a million.

Sampo always got a kick out of the thought that he had you on the hook. Your good old pal Sampo, who was ready to do anything you wanted, who was right there to make any sick and dark fantasy of yours come to life... for the right price and compensation of course!

Your entire relationship was a very much give and take type of deal. The line was drawn neatly in the sand and he was to never cross it.

But Sampo, ever the joyous fool that he was, had so much fun dancing on that line.

His kisses became longer, his touches would linger on you far more intimately than they had any right to. You'd constantly have to slap his hands away because if things could be done the way he desired them to, Sampo would be slobbering all over you like a starving dog. He never took your jabs seriously, always laughing them off or cracking a bad joke as he was literally still inside of you, your back pressed against his chest, the sweat off your skin molding with his own, causing the entire room to garner a whole new smell.

He sure did like to pick and choose his timing to be extra stupid, you'd grit through your teeth.

However, one day, all was not well in the little paradise which Sampo had oh so wonderfully created for himself. The familiar slap on the wrist and the annoyed tone to just hurry up became... Painful. Hard to ignore. It felt as though someone had taken one of his own blades and just stabbed him in the heart without a care in the world.

Sampo could not rest well that night.

The sensation quickly became uncomfortable to deal with. No, unbearable.

He started to pester you on your whereabouts and with who you would be with and even if you never told him, Sampo would always be in the exact same places you'd be, the usual sleazy grin plastered across his face as he rubbed his hands together like some cheeky little fly. Oh come on, he's just having fun, don't be so harsh on him! You'll hurt his feelings you know, he would say to you in a playful manner.

Everything he would say would be an absolute truth. He just wasn't fully aware of it, he needed time to process this mess.

Sampo couldn't help but to despise you a little. There you were, living your life happily and you would just toss him aside like yesterday's garbage once you had your fun with him.... Which he didn't actually mind, sort of. There was a certain edge he got from knowing that he could just crawl back to you whenever he damn well pleased, even if he did like to pretend that he didn't care about you other than on a skin deep level.

You had too much power over him and that, my dear friend, was a breach in your contract. Sure, that part might have been written in a more fine print but regardless, Sampo simply must take what he is due!

[insidekatmind]

The meeting with parents - Levi Colwill

The sun was gently filtering through the window curtains of your room, illuminating the dress you had chosen for the day. It was a simple but elegant dress, a light pastel fabric that caressed your skin, highlighting your figure without looking too bold. Perfect for an important occasion: introduce Levi Colwill to your family.

You looked in the mirror, carefully adjusting your hair, as you felt Levi approaching your back. He was there recently, but he seemed to have already settled in too well in your room.

"Wow," he muttered with a mischievous smile, his hands gently sliding over your hips. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" continued as he began to kiss your neck

"Levi..." you sighed, trying to hide a smile as you looked at it reflected in the mirror. "We’re already late, and my mother is waiting for us."

He laughed softly, tilting his head to one side as he kept touching you. "But how can I let you go dressed like that? You look beautiful."

You turned around, trying to keep a firm tone. "Do you promise to behave yourself in front of my parents?"

Levi made a feigned gesture of oath, raising two fingers. "Scout’s honor. But I cannot promise not to look at you with eyes of adoration, even in front of them."

---

When you finally arrived home, your mother greeted you with a warm smile. Levi seemed a little nervous, but he was trying to keep his usual security. Your father, on the other hand, studied it carefully, as if he wanted to understand immediately who this boy was who had captured his little girl’s heart.

"Dad, Mom... this is Levi."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, ma'am," he said, shaking your father’s hand firmly and smiling gently at your mother.

As your mother began a conversation with Levi, your father gave you a meaningful look, as if to say: Let’s see.

---

Levi was doing perfectly. He replied kindly, made light jokes, and seemed genuinely interested in everything your parents said. But every now and then, you felt his gaze upon you. It was as if he could not take his eyes off you, not even for a moment.

When your mother called you in the kitchen to help with lunch, Levi offered to help him too. However, as soon as you were alone, he took advantage of the moment to get too close.

"Levi!" you whisper, trying to maintain a reproach tone as he drew you against the counter.

"What? I was just trying to help you," he said with an innocent smile, but his hands, resting on your hips, told another story.

"You’re impossible," you said softly, trying to get away.

"I know," he admitted, stroking you with a quick kiss on the neck. "But it’s you who make me like this."

"If my father sees us..." you said

"He won’t see us" he said and approached you gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and then moved

---

At the table, Levi continued to impress. Your mother seemed to be captivated by his charm, while your father asked more specific questions, trying to test him a little.

"So, Levi, how do you plan to take care of my daughter?" your father asked in a calm but determined tone.

Levi sat down in his chair, taking a moment to answer. "With respect, sir. And with all the seriousness he deserves. You are the most important thing to me."

You bit your lip, impressed by her response, while your mother nodded in approval.

"Good. I hope you mean it," your father replied, with a slight smile.

"Absolutely," Levi confirmed, giving you a blush-red look.

---

When it was time to go away, your mother embraced Levi warmly, and your father patted him on the shoulder. "Not bad, boy. But remember: I’m always watching."

Levi laughed, but nodded seriously. "I will not disappoint you, sir."

As soon as you were in the car, however, the composed and respectful Levi seemed to fade away. He took your hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly.

"I love you," he said, with a sweet smile that seemed to erase all traces of nervousness.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning on his arm as he started the engine.

But before he left, he stopped and leaned towards you, his lips touching yours. "Thank you for today. It was important to me."

And at that moment you realized that, despite all his distractions and jokes, Levi was really sincere.

[imjustasimpxd]

Something Old, Something New

(Chapter One)

➬ Ken Sato x Fem reader

Summary : At first glance, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. With money, fame, and success surrounding his name, there was nothing he couldn’t get his hands on. They say money can buy happiness. That may be true to an extent, however, can money buy forgiveness? Unfortunately for Ken, no amount of money and influence can turn back time and change the past. No amount of bribery can erase the fact that he had chosen to abandon his wife in favor of pursuing his baseball career. That awful decision he made took place five years ago, when he was just starting out as a professional athlete. But now that he’s matured and had time to reflect on his actions, can he hope for a chance to rekindle his marriage? Or should he accept defeat and live with the consequences of letting the only woman he’s ever truly loved slip away from him?

Word count : around 2,500 words

Warnings : mentions of abandonment and neglect, arrogant Sato, sad reader, mentions of regret, angst

Author’s notes : comments and reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or stela my work.

Ken Sato. Looks, wealth, talent, charisma, and confidence rolled into one good looking package. 

The mere mention of his name was enough to cause an uproar of fanatics screaming and shouting in excitement, as if they were a pack of wolves howling at the moon. 

Though he was mostly known for his impressive baseball career, being named one of the most eligible bachelors in sports didn’t hurt his credibility either. If anything, playing the part of the charming ladies’ man only increased his popularity, especially to any of his adoring fans that were women, which most of them were.

After becoming one of the biggest celebrities in both Japanese and American sports, there weren’t many people who were ignorant of a household name such as his. Every man wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. 

To the public eye, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. But looks can be deceiving, can’t they? Especially when it comes to a man who’s spent years hiding his true feelings behind a veil of humor and charisma. 

No one could know how much he was struggling to keep it all together, or the depths of the affliction eating away at his heart. He was Ken Sato after all, and Ken Sato wasn’t weak, he was a legend, and legends never died, they prevailed. So, he must too.

No matter how much the reporters hounded him, using every possible tactic they could think of to pry into his personal life, Kenji never gave them more than a shred of minuscule details. Feeding them like rats, giving them only the bare necessities to satisfy their hunger for a short while before they came crawling back, demanding more. 

He never let them know more than he wanted, more than he felt like sharing, and frankly, there was a plethora of details he didn’t feel like sharing. 

His reputation of perfection probably wouldn’t uphold itself that well if the media knew about all the things he was wrestling with. Between being a newfound parent to a kaiju infant by day and a masked vigilante known as Ultraman by night, Ken didn’t exactly fit the cookie cutter version of “having it all together.” 

And if that wasn’t enough, then the shame he harbored towards a decision he made almost five years ago would definitely topple the pedestal he comfortably built his identity on. 

The press loved gossip, and they’d fight tooth and nail for even the smallest scintilla of drama. Twisting innocent words and blowing frivolous details out of proportions was the job of reporters. So, imagine the headlines they’d make if those reporters found out any real insiders on the life of the world-famous baseball player. 

Imagine the sales they’d make if a journalist ever got ahold of the information about his past, the same past he’s been hiding away from during his time back in Japan.  

He’s thought about calling, maybe writing a letter to express some form of condolences, but what if word got out? What if the press found out about the woman he used to be married to, the same one he abandoned five years ago in order to pursue his baseball career. 

Forget his most recent batting record, a scandalous story such as that would make headlines from both sides of the Pacific Ocean, and then there really would be nowhere else for him to hide from his past, lest he fancied moving somewhere more remote and secluded. 

If that day came, if Ken Sato was exposed for the decisions he made before becoming famous, then his reputation might take some irreparable damage. 

That’s why he was so closed off towards reporters, towards his teammates, towards everyone. 

Never let anyone close to you and they can never betray you. That’s how Ken Sato lives. 

At least, how he did live, before a little reptilian creature crawled into his life, forcing him to realize there were things that mattered more than wealth and fame.

Before taking care of a kaiju infant became the priority in his life, Ken Sato had rooted his worth in the success of his career. So once that career took off, offering him all the success and affluence he could ever want, he began to realize just how little he really had. 

Despite the riches, the popularity, all of it felt meaningless with no one to share it with. He could’ve held a party with hundreds of guests, surrounding himself with countless people all desperate to please him. Nevertheless, none of it would fill the emptiness engulfing his heart; knowing that no one he interacted with would ever see him as more than a means to financial gain and an increase in social status. 

He had a world full of convenience and opportunities at his fingertips, and yet, he never felt more detached from reality. 

His family was complicated, his friends were more like business partners who benefitted from their relations to him, and the one person he had ever felt truly comfortable around probably hated him now, after being dismissed in favor of baseball. 

In the end, even in a room full of dedicated fans, Ken Sato felt alone. 

However, then that little kaiju infant came along, and everything started to get better. Caring for a child, though tiring at first, gave Kenji something to work towards; a purpose that mattered more than advertising for energy drinks or scoring another record breaking hit at home plate. 

Emi finally gave him the one thing he always wanted, the same thing he always pretended not to need: family. 

After that, baseball didn’t seem to matter as much as it used to, unless he was teaching it to Emi. And all the wealth he had acquired over the years didn’t hold the same value as before, unless he was spending it on his adopted daughter. His lifestyle remained the same, but his heart was in a different place, a more peaceful one. 

Winning championships were more rewarding when he had someone to win for, someone to celebrate with afterwards. And now that he’d repaired the relationship between him and his father, things were looking promising for his future. 

But there was still one more roadblock, one last regret preventing him from moving forward completely. 

You. The woman he’d been married to for a whole year, and, regretfully, the same woman who asked for a divorce due to his neglectful and inconsiderate disregard for her. 

He was young and immature back then, foolishly believing the pursuit of his baseball career was more important than maintaining a healthy marriage. He was arrogant, thinking that extravagant gifts and vacations would keep you happy and secure his role as a provider. 

But he was ignorant to think that being married to you meant he no longer had to earn your affection. All the money and gifts in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that he was never home, and that you were never his priority back then. 

Every morning he’d wake up early, well before you, just to attend practice. And every night he’d come home late, just after dinner, claiming he had needed to stay longer than normal to practice more. 

You’d set out a plate for him, but after his baseball career started taking off, he didn’t really have the time for things such as family dinners or game nights; or so he said. 

He’d usually come home and skip dinner, taking a shower or going to sleep instead. You didn’t necessarily blame him for that, it was only natural for him to be tired from practice. But as the days of barely seeing him turned into months, and he started traveling consistently for his games, you started to feel more like a stranger to him than his wife. He was your husband on paper, but, in the confines of your home, you barely knew how to keep a conversation with him anymore. If you were being honest, you didn’t even really know him that well anymore. 

At least, not as much as you used to. Things were different when you first got married, he wasn’t always so arrogant and inconsiderate. Instead, he was passionate and playful, always knowing how to make you laugh after crying. Even on your first date, he was romantic and charming, making you blush to yourself every time a compliment slipped past his lips. 

But I guess the honeymoon phase people always warn you about before marriage was real; at least, it was for you and Kenji. 

Once his baseball career started taking off, the fame must’ve gotten to his head, and he forgot about the one woman who had been supporting him from the sidelines all along. You had gone to every game, recorded all his winning homeruns, supported his career even though it meant holding off on pursuing yours. And yet, he repaid you with neglect, with a one-sided marriage.

You held on for a while, convinced that he would come around, that his behavior would change and he would reflect on his actions. But after the one-year anniversary of your marriage arrived and he wasn’t even in town to celebrate with you, that’s when you made your decision. You were done being a second choice. 

You got in contact with a lawyer, gathered divorce papers and waited with bated breath till he got home from his trip. And the moment he walked in the door, you practically shoved the papers in his face, all the emotions you’d kept bottled up for so long suddenly coming out in a volcanic eruption of shouting and sobbing. 

And surprisingly enough, he stayed quiet through the majority of it, just watching with a hollow stare as you unleashed all the frustration you’d been harboring towards him. And without a word, he took the papers from you and fished out a pen from his desk drawer, signing them in silence. 

Maybe he had realized from your onslaught of emotions that you were better off without him, that he was clearly causing you pain, and you’d be happier once he set you free of him. Or maybe he really was just that heartless and figured now was the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. Either way, your stomach seemed to twist into a knot at the way he so casually signed those divorce papers and handed them back to you. 

This was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? You’re the one who had gathered the papers in the first place, you should’ve been happy that he was finally ending it, finally setting you free. And yet, you felt yourself holding back tears at his lack of emotion. He didn’t try to argue, he didn’t plead with you to give him another chance like you had expected him too. He just admitted defeat, giving up on trying to fix your marriage and taking off for Japan two days later. 

He left, leaving you back in America while he returned to his home country to continue baseball there; abandoning his American team in the middle of their journey to the championships. 

He had given you an opportunity to move on, to become the person he always prevented you from being, and so you took it.

You cut all forms of communication, threw out everything of his that he didn’t take when he left, and moved into your own apartment. It was a fresh start, a clean slate, and you finally had the chance to chase after your dream career, just like he had been doing.  

So, you did, and you didn’t give up. You refused to, you owed this to yourself, and you weren’t going to waste any more time pouring effort into someone who didn’t appreciate it. 

So, you worked, tirelessly, anxiously, until the day came when your newest novel finally become a bestseller all around the nation, and you were officially titled a successful author. 

Now it was your turn, to stand in front of a crowd of adoring fans, to sign autographs and attend fan events. It almost reminded you of your ex-husband, how people used to scream his name and cheer for his success. But now they were cheering for you, supporting you like he hadn’t. You almost laughed at the irony of it all. Five years ago, you would’ve never imagined the life you’d made for yourself now, celebrating your fourth bestselling novel in a row and becoming a well-known author like you always dreamed of. 

And yet, looking back, none of this would’ve been possible had you not been set free from the restraints your marriage to Ken Sato had bound you to. Without him and the neglect he subjected you to, you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did. So really, in a way, you had him to thank for how far you’ve come and all the success you’ve accomplished. Because if he never signed those papers five years ago, you would still be tied down to a one-sided marriage. 

But you weren’t, and thank God for that.

Now you had moved on, and so had he. 

Or so you thought. 

Little did you know, Ken Sato was on a mission, and not as Ultraman this time. After undergoing the change and maturity necessary to become a parent to a kaiju infant, Kenji realized he needed to make things right between the two of you. Even if it had been five years since he last saw you. 

He wasn’t looking to ask you to take him back and rekindle your marriage, though he wouldn’t have minded if that ended up happening. Instead, he simply wanted to apologize for his actions, for being such a crappy husband back then. He had reflected a lot on the subject of your marriage over the past couple years, but, he never reached out in fear of your reaction to seeing him again. 

Although, after avoiding it for long enough, and getting a lecture about taking responsibility from his dad, he finally decided to go through with it and booked a flight back to America. 

He was nervous to say the least, but he knew he couldn’t back out. Even if you screamed and yelled at him, he had to take accountability for his past actions and apologize for the pain he’d caused you, for pushing you to the back burner while he allowed baseball to take priority in his life. 

He’d made peace with himself and his father already, thanks to the help of his adoptive daughter. So now it was time to make peace with you. And as he watched the plane lift off the ground from his window seat, he held his breath, wondering how you would react to seeing him again after so many years. 

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[itscherrylipsforme]

begging for a river cartwright bf headcannons🙏🙏

River Cartwright as a boyfriend

I am so sorry this took my ages, darling 😓 Uni and family stuff made complicated to post for the last months. But now that I am back there is nothing that can stop from writing something for one of my fave losers (affectionately). Without further ado, let's go! 🫶🏼

Masterlist Characters I write for

Okay, this man lives for his shitty job. He hates Lamb and the Slough House with all his heart, yet he would never leave it for anything in this world as he needs them to get his career back on the right path and secretly cares about his co-workers there. Being a spy is literally in his DNA and through the seasons we learn that he is indeed a workaholic. With that being told opportunities to date are few, he does not have the time or the interest to look for a partner rn

So that the situation would be that you both met at Slough House where you ended because you fucked it up and were forced to share office with him. Reluctantly you had to adapt to each other. First of all, you thought you had few things in common: being in a place neither of you wanted and feeling like completely losers. But in a job like that with little to no ways to lose time one afternoon you started to chat in hopes that the hours would run faster. To your surprise they did

First weeks were not much different from the usual, tired “Good Morning” 's and “Goodbye” 's which weren’t good at all, exchanging papers, offering to make a cup of coffee for other when needed… Yeah, he did not give much of thought to your bond. There was no need, you were another co-worker. One much less annoying than Roddy, and in fact prettier and kinder than Shirley. But a co-worker nevertheless

Under that annoyed and tired facade, River is quite nice. Pretty intelligent and can keep a sarcastic banter although impatient and impulsive as you later found out in a mission you worked together. In so told mission you ran into Duffy and his dogs, which left River with a bloodied nose, a purple eye, and nasty cuts. He claimed to be fine and able to handle them on his own but as he nearly fell on the floor while trying to stand up you insisted on helping him

And there you were, with him sitting on your desk hissing like a kid being scolded for scratching his knee and you patching him up. Between "I told you we should have asked Shirley to back-up up", "I said we did not have time to wait for here" and other various reproaches you found his gaze casually drifting to your lips too many times to keep playing obvious. So, you went for it. Soft at first, slightly hesitant he thought, before parting away scared you had messed up again

Your doubts were quickly erased by a smirk and his response, more needy and equally sweet, that soon followed after. It was like walking on a tightrope, the thrill of it but also the feeling in your gut that you could fall in any given moment. It felt good… the best, whether it was because he hadn’t kissed someone for longer that he would like to admit or because he truly liked you was a question for another night. At that moment he did not need answers, but somebody to hold and feel alive once again. A night to forget all his past mistakes. So, he lost himself on your touch and your care

-But this is River Cartwright who we are talking about. He would rather get stabbed (again) than talking with his feelings to anyone. The following days and weeks he acts like nothing has happened and you are too proud and hurt to bring it up. It takes another case, and a bullet nearly ending with your life for him to gather the courage to be honest with himself. He is not good with words, so he does not say anything, just holds your hand in the hospital’s bed while trying to plan how to proceed

However, after nights of losing sleep when you finally wake up all intentions fade to nothing. Instead, he wraps his arms around your neck and whispers softly but seriously “Don’t you ever scare me like that again” You can’t help smiling and the moment he parts away realizing the rush of his actions you feel his gaze on your lips. A nod is the only confirmation he needs before making the move for you to forgive him

Let’s be honest, he is not the most “boyfriend material” person you have met. Reckless, stubborn, impulsive… But also, caring and sweet when he wants to so he makes up for it. His love language is probably acts of service and quality time, but he won’t say no to a couple of hugs and kisses (his childhood made him kind of touch starved)

 Your work does not give you much spare time, but he swears he will redeem himself once you are both out of that hell hole giving you the life and treatment you deserve. Meanwhile you are just happy to clean him up after he returns mostly safe and sound from mission and to have him snoring on your bed because that means he actually trusts you enough to rest by your side

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello! Hope your day is going well!!

🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♂️

⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

Thank you, take care!

Thank you so much! You, too!

36 for 🧜🏼‍♂️

---

Eddie wants to fix it. Wants to help him. He’s having trouble being patient. 

When eventually Eddie does get to go in and say his piece, he knows he hardly has any time. They’re going to kick them out of the surgical ward soon, as it gets later and later, and Buck seems really sleepy. Eddie has to do this quickly. 

As soon as he steps into the room, he draws the curtains, giving them some privacy.

“Eddie?” He mumbles, voice a little slurred from his recent dose of pain medication. “What’re you doing?”

“Giving us some privacy,” Eddie says, taking a seat beside Buck’s bed and shifting his bag to his lap.

Buck giggles. He’s clearly out of it. The drugs have hit harder than Eddie realized.

“Not up for it right now, Eddie,” he snickers. “Just got crushed.”

Eddie pauses for a second. What the fuck? Well, okay. He’s not going to take it too seriously. Buck is high. High and silly. The last time they were both high and silly they said insane things, too. Eddie’s just sober this time. 

“Alright, you call me when your leg is in working order,” Eddie deadpans. 

“Okay,” Buck replies.

Eddie feels a little flip in his stomach. He needs to abort this line of conversation immediately. 

“Buck, I pulled the curtains closed because I brought ocean water,” Eddie explains. 

Buck’s expression still. “You did that?”

“Of course I did,” Eddie replies. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you to the water right away. I didn’t want to reveal you to everyone.”

---

36 for ⛅

---

“I told you.”

“You don’t sleep and dream in a dream,” Buck says. “So it’s not that.”

“Which leaves real or alternate universe,” Eddie says. “Which means, it can be real either way.”

Right. Because if they can love each other in one, they could love each other in another. And Eddie really seemed to lean right into loving Buck last night. And still this morning. Still right now. Like he took Christopher’s words to heart and is rolling with it. Which is a very uncharacteristic response for Eddie. And that sort of concerns Buck. 

“Um,” he says. “I have a question.”

Still in Buck’s arms, Eddie rolls over to face him. 

“Okay, yeah?” 

“You’re really okay with all this?” Buck asks. 

“With being stuck in the future?” Eddie asks. “I mean, it’s not ideal, but it is sort of way better than my current life.”

Oh. Okay, well good to know he feels that way. Who is Buck kidding? Of course it’s better for Eddie. Chris is right here. And happy. 

“That’s not what I meant, exactly,” Buck says. 

“What did you mean?” Eddie asks. 

“I guess, uh… I guess I was wondering if you’re like, sitting here this morning and regretting last night?” Buck asks.

They hadn’t even had sex, obviously. Just made out until they were tired, and then fell asleep together. 

---

36 for 🔼

---

Maddie purses her lips. Buck can tell she’s not sold. 

“Well, you’re an adult,” she sighs. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

◀️

Jane is born less than two minutes after Eddie walks into the room. Shannon suspects that’s all she was waiting for. She couldn’t be born without her dad. Shannon can’t help but wonder if that’s a precedent for how their relationship will be going forward. She carries the kid for nine months, and Jane is already obsessed with Eddie. Classic. 

She can’t really be that upset though. In fact, she’s not. Not at all. It was an easy labor. It hurt like hell and sucked, overall. But overall, compared to her experience with a really bad delivery, this was hardly a drop in the bucket. And when they hand her her baby, it’s all erased anyway. Her baby is here and she’s healthy and she’s got both her parents here. It’s all Shannon could have asked for. 

Eddie seems just as happy. Shannon can see the boy he was - because truly, they were both just kids - when Christopher was born. Shaking and grinning and overwhelmed by it all. But she also sees someone else. Someone he has become, since then. He cuts the cord with no hesitation. He holds his baby with no trepidation, talking to her and being goofy with no signs of any fear. He just seems lighter. Less of a boy trying to be a man, and more of a man living in the present moment. And Shannon’’s not sure how much of that she’s ever seen from him before. 

“She’s got my eyes,” Eddie says, crying a little while he holds her.

“She does,” Shannon smiles, seconds away from crying again herself.

“That’s crazy,” Eddie laughs. “I was just expecting another mini-you.”

“Nope,” Shannon laughs. “This one’s all you. God help her.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s still beaming. 

[freedomfireflies]

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god. 

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too. 

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted. 

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you. 

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed. 

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah. 

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit. 

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair. 

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then? 

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

 You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone. 

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that. 

Seriously, how do I make it go away? 

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa. 

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on… 

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text. 

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude. 

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned. 

Uh-huh. 

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too. 

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now. 

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah. 

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle. 

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun. 

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart. 

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

 My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube. 

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh. 

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right. 

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie. 

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

 It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny. 

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah. 

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

[brodygold]

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Eleven

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: eleven pipers piping.

The streets of the city were alive with excitement. The Golden Army’s Christmas parade was in full swing, and crowds had gathered to watch the golden-clad performers march under a cascade of twinkling lights and snowflakes. Alex and Michael stood near the front of the crowd, sipping cocoa from holiday-themed cups.

Alex, bundled in a brown coat with a vibrant rainbow scarf, was practically vibrating with excitement. “I told you this would be amazing! Did you see the flag dancers earlier? They were incredible!”

Michael, dressed in a red sweater and a simple gray scarf, chuckled at Alex’s enthusiasm. His calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to Alex’s boundless energy. “Yes, Alex, you’ve mentioned it twice now. But yeah, they were pretty good.”

“‘Pretty good’? Michael, they twirled those flags in perfect unison, and did you see the flips they pulled off? Insane!” Alex gestured animatedly, nearly spilling his cocoa.

Michael reached out instinctively to steady Alex’s hand. “Okay, okay, you’re right. They were spectacular. Happy?”

“Always.” Alex grinned and leaned closer, his nose brushing Michael’s cheek. “And you’re loving this too. Admit it.”

Michael sighed but smiled. “Fine. I’m enjoying myself. But mostly because you’re happy.”

“Good answer,” Alex teased. His eyes lit up as the next section of the parade approached. “Oh, look! The dancers! Those gold jackets are so sharp!”

Michael took a sip of his cocoa and looked down the street. “I’ll give you that one. Those coordinated moves are impressive. Almost regal.”

“They’re perfect. If I ever joined a parade, I’d want a uniform like that,” Alex said dreamily.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Parade life, huh? I don’t know if you could handle the discipline. All those rehearsals and rules…”

Alex nudged him playfully. “Oh, please. I could march circles around you.”

“Sure you could.” Michael smirked. He glanced at the nearby restroom. “Speaking of circles, I need to step away for a minute. Too much cocoa.”

Alex laughed. “Well, I’ll be right here. Don’t get lost.”

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled warmly. “That’s my line. Don’t wander off, Alex.”

“Me? Never,” Alex said with mock seriousness.

Michael kissed him on the cheek before heading toward the restroom, leaving Alex alone to soak in the parade.

As Alex turned back to the festivities, the “eleven pipers piping” segment began. A group of performers in golden suits marched forward, their instruments gleaming. The melody they played was unlike anything Alex had ever heard—an intricate, haunting tune that seemed to resonate deep within him.

He blinked, feeling a strange pull in his chest. His playful smile faded as the music grew louder, more insistent. His feet shuffled forward without him realizing it.

Around him, others in the crowd began to move too. Men of all ages stepped into the street, their eyes glazed over. The music seemed to call only to them, compelling them forward like moths to a flame.

Alex tried to resist, but the melody was overpowering. His body felt weightless, his mind foggy. Each note seemed to strip away a piece of him—his thoughts, his memories, his very sense of self.

As the pipers’ music swelled, the transformation began. Alex’s clothes shimmered and dissolved, replaced by a skintight golden rubber suit that clung to his newly muscular frame. The number 142 appeared on his chest, glowing softly as his face smoothed into a blank, featureless mask.

Beside him, other men were undergoing the same changes, their identities erased by the hypnotic tune. Together, they fell into perfect formation, their faceless heads tilting in unison as they awaited their next command.

When Michael returned a few minutes later, the parade had moved on. The pipers were gone, and so was Alex.

He scanned the crowd, his heart pounding. “Alex?” he called, weaving through the throng. “Alex, where are you?”

There was no response. Michael’s chest tightened as he searched, his voice growing more frantic. “Alex!”

On the ground near where they had stood, he spotted something—a rainbow scarf dusted with snow. He picked it up, his hands trembling. It was Alex’s.

Michael’s eyes darted toward the street, where the distant sound of music lingered in the air. He didn’t know why, but he felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

Far down the parade route, drone 142 marched in perfect step with his new brothers, his former life erased by the hypnotic power of the pipers’ tune. His number glowed brightly, marking him as part of the Golden Army’s unstoppable procession.

And the music played on.

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 35

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Y/n and Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor of her apartment, surrounded by a mess of old books, crystals, and candles. They'd been at it for hours, flipping through pages and trying out different spells from the damned book that got them in that trouble.

They first tried with the solution that was given in the page behind his spell, but he didn't feel anything, so they tried with the different solutions that kept coming up throughout the different spells for different things, even if they had nothing to do with what he wanted to erase.

—This one says you have to meditate under a full moon —Y/n read out loud, holding up a page with a dubious-looking diagram.

—Naked? —he arched his eyebrows with a malicious smile, earning an eye roll from her before dropping the book to her lap.

—Well, if you want to... It's up to you.

—Should we both do it together so it gets more power?

—You're making me regret helping you —she assured him, narrowing her eyes while dropping her head.

—I was just thinking of ways to make it work —he shrugged.

—You should eat a sprig of parsley while you do it —she commented, ignoring his approach.

Since he first stepped inside her place, it became impossible for her to concentrate on what they were there for. Jungkook always had a look, a smile, a comment... anything that completely diverted them from what they were doing. That was why they spent the entirety of her Saturday sitting on the floor, in front of a book and a bunch of snacks, with several sheets of paper displayed around them with weird sketches.

—I'd rather stay cursed than do that —he snorted, leaning back on his hands.

—That's how bad you want to date me, I see —the book made a dry sound that echoed in the room through the silence as she closed it.

—Wait, no, I'll do it —Jungkook smiled, trying to stop her from getting up—. I'll eat a whole tree if I have to.

—The sprig of parsley is enough —Y/n clicked her tongue, going back to her place while looking through the pages—. I still don't understand, what did you feel when you think the curse was thrown on you?

—I mean, it wasn't the moment Carly said those words, but later that night —he frowned—. It was like something was opening up my chest and taking my heart out.

His hand flew to his chest just by remembering the sensation, and how hopeless he felt. For a second, Jungkook felt like he was dying and there was no turning back. He even saw the way his life played through his eyes like a movie. It was so frustrating... and scary.

—You, so used to treating girls like objects, will be burdened by the pain of being treated the same way. Love will be an unknown word in your dictionary from now on so when you find The One, you will be repaid with everything you've been giving others —Y/n pursed her lips, repeating the same words that were said to him, for the seventh time that day—. You did hurt her enough for her to go these lengths. My ex is so lucky I don't believe in this.

—I wasn't even dating her. I can't imagine what she'd have done if we had dated —he scoffed.

Y/n looked over at him when he spoke, and something in her made her believe there was no point for Jungkook to just lie about that. He was so shameless, that he probably would've admitted his crime with grace and would've pretended to play it as if it weren't a big deal.

—You didn't once think of dating her? Or anyone? —she asked.

No.

That was the clearest answer he had in his mind.

Not the way he wanted to date Y/n and do all those silly things he had watched in movies.

He didn't know if it was indirectly related to the way he saw his parents' relationship end, or how scared he was of someone hurting him the way his mother hurted his father. It frightened him to see himself the same way he had always seen a person that seemed indestructible. He wasn't curious about love, because he was sure what it'd led to.

But Y/n slowly got in his life, so subtly and quietly that he didn't realize until it was too late. Every push and pull, every clap back, every witty answer led to a kiss, a hug, a smile that he kept looking forward to. And, for the first time in his life, he was curious about love, he was looking forward to sharing everything about him and receiving everything she wanted to share. Heartbreak didn't even have a place in his head when it came to her.

—I bet it makes you feel so proud to know you're the first —he teased her.

And last.

—Considering you barely have any firsts available, it feels more like one of those discounts with a countdown.

—That... I don't know what to think of that —his eyes moved to the table, losing his gaze there as he tried to look into her response—. Did you call me cheap?

—It sounds like it, but I promise it wasn't my intention —she giggled, moving her hands up while looking for peace—. You didn't answer my question.

—No, I didn't —he sighed—. I was in those flings, but at the same time I wasn't. I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't want to be with someone either —he puckered his lips—. All of them knew I didn't want anything serious, even Carly did. At least I made sure to make it clear when she asked after our third hook up.

With his perspective, Y/n thought that there was nothing wrong with what Jungkook was doing. He was honest with those girls. Morally and health-wise, she could doubt his choices, but, at the same time, he was honest with his feelings and intentions -which was more than what most of the men in her life had been.

—Maybe I should've stopped seeing her when she started getting too attached.

—Maybe —she smiled—. I think it's important that you're seeing it from the outside, and that you're finally able to sympathize with what those girls were feeling. It's one step forward, actually. And you're doing more than a lot of people are able to —she scoffed.

Admitting one's mistakes was always the biggest crash on someone's ego, yet Jungkook was admitting his in front of hers with no excuses, not a "but..." to back him up.

She blinked, getting herself out of her own thoughts before looking down, eyes on the book while pushing it over the table with a gentle movement.

—We've tried everything. This is hopeless.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

—I appreciate you going all out for me, but maybe it's not something we can just... you know, undo like this.

—Honestly, while doing all of this I was thinking... You like me, I like you, I'm still here —Jungkook's eyes were attentive to her—. What if you aren't cursed and that thing on your chest was just a gas crying to get out?

Omitting her joke, Jungkook thought that maybe she was right. She didn't run away, she didn't leave, nothing got in between them ever since they met each other. Maybe all those girls left because they weren't meant to stay, and he just related them to the curse because it was an excuse that seemed logical while he escaped commitment.

—First of all, I don't fart.

Y/n had to hold back the laugh that was about to come out with that denial.

—I remember you there's a thick hole in our shared wall, bed to bed, and let me tell you those girls' moans weren't the only thing that made me lose sleep. I've heard you more than once.

—And you're still after me? See how this is love?

Y/n smirked, shaking her head with his comment.

—You might be right —he sighed—. Could be this gave me a better excuse to act the way I did. Probably, if the curse was real, you'd have moved out in a matter of days.

—Or I'd have died the day you tried to poison me —she calmly stated, collecting all of the sheets that were at her reach.

—For how long will you remind me? —he arched his pierced eyebrow.

—Oh, darling. You have a lot of dates ahead to make up to me —she squeezed his cheek.

—What about today?

—Today?

—You, me, a motorbike, some sandwiches...

—Only if I'm the one who drives —she conditioned.

—I can't promise I'll be able to keep my hands to myself.

—I didn't tell you to —she smiled at him, leaving the book back on the shelf.

The pan of guilt he felt, knowing there was so much more he wasn't telling her, slowly vanished when she looked back at him from the door frame to her room. He swallowed down the urge to spill everything right then, to be as honest as he had always tried to be with everyone, but he kept quiet.

Maybe Y/n didn't need to know about how brutal he was in some fights at the beginning, or how that got him in one more scare. Maybe Y/n didn't need to know about Mortal Blow or that side of him ever in her life.

Her back vibrated with her giggle when Jungkook snuggled to her like a schoolgirl, wrapping his arms around her body, palms on her belly -as if he hadn't had his hands holding her breasts just five minutes back-, with his helmet taking up most of her back.

It didn't surprise him how well she drove, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ask her how she learnt to drive -because he knew it was going to relate directly to the ex boyfriend she mentioned the other day-, and he didn't really want to deal with that thought when he was just getting to enjoy himself.

He came up with the idea of going on a picnic, he prepared their lunch, but Y/n was the one who thought of the place. She had a good idea up her sleeve, which led them to a small lake nearby.

The park was filled with groups of friends cackling, lying a few meters away from them; couples kissed and got touchy on the grass, while others drove the swan-shaped boats in the lake; families walking around, swinging their kid by their arms as if making them fly over the ground.

And suddenly, a thought got so deep in his head, being so realistic, that Jungkook lost touch with reality until Y/n called him out.

His doe eyes were already big enough, but they always got bigger when Jungkook got immersed in his own thoughts. And at that moment, he looked exactly like that, with a small smile curving up his face.

—Tell me you aren't imagining what those people would look like if they fell.

He blinked, finally looking at her to realize how serious his thoughts were when it came to her. He never thought of being in a serious relationship, and there he was: daydreaming of getting to have a family with her when they weren't even dating.

—Wouldn't it be funny? —he lied, backing himself up.

—Oh Jeon, I just hope I'm there the day karma bites your ass —she mumbled, taking a sip to her sprite.

—Tss, hope you know you'll be the one cheering me up when that happens —he replied back with a cheeky smile.

Jungkook bent slightly over her, a hand behind her back on the grass, while his lips approached her so dangerously she held her breath without noticing.

—Let's hop on one of those boats —she hurriedly suggested, getting up from the ground when their lips barely touched.

Jungkook was so devilishly attractive, that she wasn't sure she'd be able to contain herself once they started kissing. Even looking back to him, when he was still lying on the floor, playing with his lip ring as he smirked, was driving her close to insanity.

Even when he complained, causing his accent to become thicker, he made her knees go weak.

—Forty dollars for an hour —he clicked his tongue, saving his wallet back in his back pocket—. For that amount I can build the boat myself.

—The question is whether it'd float when you got to the middle of the lake —she chuckled, stepping on the boat first.

Jungkook eyed it suspiciously, stepping at the edge to check on it

—You seriously think this is safe?

Y/n laughed, feet already on the pedals.

—Come on, you can take down five guys in a ring, but you're worried about a swan boat?

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile as they began pedaling out onto the lake. It was a peaceful scene -the soft lapping of the water, the muffled sound from the people around them, and her skin shining so bright under the golden sun.

For a while, they floated in relative peace, until Y/n nudged Jungkook with her elbow.

—We made it to the middle, it does float, at least.

As if on cue, the boat wobbled slightly, when Jungkook's baggy jeans got stuck in one of the pedals, causing him to shift his weight -just a little too much.

—Wait, wait... —Y/n's warning came too late.

With a yelp, Jungkook lost his balance despite her trying to reach for his arm, tipping over the side of the boat and splashing into the water. For a second, there was nothing but stunned silence, and then Y/n burst out laughing.

Jungkook surfaced, drenched, with a look of pure disbelief.

—I fucking knew it.

—Are you okay? —Y/n called between giggles, leaning over the edge to offer him a hand.

He glared at her, though the corners of his mouth were twitching.

—I'm never trusting a swan boat again —he gasped—. Shit, I might get a stomach cramp now.

—Yeah, over a ham sandwich. You're okay, get back on the boat.

Y/n held tight on the boat, as Jungkook effortlessly pulled his body up the water to sit back in his place. He shook his head fast, trying to get rid of a lot of the wetness in his locks.

—I know I've called you a dog a few many times, but it wasn't for you to take it literally —she huffed, trying to cover up herself with her arm .

—Shit, my phone —he whined, taking the device out of his front pocket.

—And your wallet —she reminded him.

Jungkook, now soaked and glaring playfully at Y/n, shook his head with a grin.

—You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, but still get ready to deal with the consequences.

—Uhh, I'm so scared —she dared him, face getting closer to his—. Let's get back home, you'll need that hot shower.

He was surprised when instead of going back to sitting properly, she kissed him so naturally and sweetly that his heart skipped a hard and loud beat.

It was a quiet afternoon, the kind where time seemed to move slowly. Y/n had stepped out to get groceries, leaving Jungkook alone in her apartment while he took a shower and drained his clothes. He wandered aimlessly, his gaze drifting over her neatly organized bookshelves and the cozy decor.

Pictures of Mitchell and her mother, only her mother, Y/n with a group of friends... all of them were placed over one of the shelves. As he passed by one of the pictures she had with Jason, strange folding caught his eye. He leaned closer, picking it up. He wished he hadn't let curiosity get over him, so he'd have just seen her with Jason, laughing, arms around each other, looking carefree and happy. But just her and Jason.

As he unfolded the picture, his heart dropped to his feet and his breathing was cut in his throat.

He recognized the other man that was next to Y/n, and that she kept hidden behind the frame.

A memory flickered in his mind. He'd seen that face before. In a darker, more painful context. The underground gym, the rough-and-tumble fighters. The young man in the picture was the same one he'd seen at the club years ago, the same one he once beated, almost, to death, before he left that gym they shared.

Noah wasn't only a competitor, but also a trainee when the other gym went bankrupt.

His stomach twisted as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Y/n's brother hadn't just been some random fighter. He'd been someone Jungkook had trained with, someone he knew pretty well since he was the one who set some fights for him when he wasn't able to attend.

And, suddenly, the scariest thought flashed his mind. Was he the one who possibly sent him to his final fight?

The guilt washed over him in waves, threatening to drown him, as everything around him kept going in circles.

Jungkook sank down onto the couch, his hands trembling. All that time, he'd been searching for answers about the curse and helping Y/n with her investigation, not realizing he was a part of the very story she was unraveling. If she found out the truth... everything would change. Every step forward they had taken would disappear in front of him.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to keep it from her, at least for a while. He couldn't bear to lose her -not when things were finally going right between them. Not when she'd just started opening up, letting him in.

Y/n's cheerful humming drifted in from the hallway as she returned, and Jungkook hastily put the picture back, forcing a smile as she entered the room.

—Hey, you —she greeted, setting down a bag of groceries and grinning at him—. What did I tell you about sitting your wet ass on my couch?

—Right —Jungkook stood up, his heart still pounding, maybe even harder when seeing her.

He took the chance when Y/n went to the kitchen to leave the picture back to where it was, before she could even notice he had seen it.

—Where's your cocky answer? —she frowned— Fuck, are you sick?

Her concerned eyes moved over him, when her hand touched his face to check on his temperature.

—Yeah, I am sick of being away from you —he quickly answered.

He pulled her into a playful hug, burying his face in her hair as he tried to push away the turmoil in his mind. He'd figure it out somehow -how to tell her, how to make things right. But for now, he would just hold onto the moment, hoping he could keep their happiness intact a little while longer.

If Y/n ever managed to convince him about the curse not being real and not working out, that new discovery just proved to him he was indeed cursed. And he needed to work that thing out before telling her anything. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[nvoirs]

do you mind writing something for leon comforting his gf after having a nightmare.. like he stirs awake because he can just sense something is wrong

tw: suicide in reader's dream.

Everything was covered in darkness, you could barely make your way forward as you stumbled and felt for the wall on your left. You gritted your teeth, but froze when you saw a faint light. The faint light of a street lamp. A figure stood a ways ahead, and you rushed to make any verbal discussion because you were going crazy in seclusion. A familiar face turned to you and you halted your rapid steps.

“Leon?”

Confused and cocking your brow he sadly smiled at you before stepping off the high cliff that magically crafted itself inside your punctured brain.

“Leon no!”

You woke up sweaty, your heart hammering so hard you were scared it would slip out. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, leaning against the headboard swiftly. You looked around wildly before your eyes settled onto the sleeping figure of your lover. Leon. He was okay, you shakily sighed as you stroked his hair softly. His right hand clutching onto your thigh, smiling you slowly removed it as you got ready to leave the bed.

“Where are you going?” he softly called voice slurred with sleep.

“Nowhere Leon, just need some water.”

By now he’d sat up to face you, a concerned expression creasing his features. “Don’t lie to me,” he pleaded. “Your water is untouched.” he indicated to the full glass of water that sat on top of your bedside draw.

“Talk to me.” he grabbed both of your hands, massaging your fingers efficiently.

“It was just a dumb nightmare that’s all.” You mumbled, swiping the sneaky tear that had made its way down the apple of your cheek.

“Baby you're crying, come here.” Leon pulled you towards his broad chest shushing you as he left soft, tender kisses along your temple, dabbing away the salty fat tears that kept escaping your glassy eyes with a crumpled tissue.

After around ten minutes of Leon successfully calming you down, he mumbled into the shell of your ear. “Gonna tell me what you saw in that nightmare of yours?” You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing the strewn, messy hair away from your shoulders as you surveyed him frightened.

“I’d rather not Leon, It was just.. Silly really.” Leon was a stubborn man when he wanted to be, and right now he was going to use his stubbornness on you. He needed to know what you saw in this negative dream of yours, so he could crush all the bullshit it spewed inside your delicate mind.

“Trust me, If you talk It out you’ll feel better.” You bit your lip at his warm words, releasing a heavy sigh you took one of his hands starting to play with his fingers. Leon loved this gesture so much, you using him to fiddle with was so cute.

You managed to choke out the last words about your sinister nightmare, and Leon’s eyes widened at your ending words. “No way.. You really think I would jump? Seriously? That’s not happening, I would never do that to you, ever.” Leon clasped his hands in your own trembling ones, and he squeezed reassuringly before leaning down noses nuzzling as he left a love drunk kiss upon your sweet lips. “Bad dreams.. Well all dreams, no matter good or bad, tend to erase themselves from our minds. So don’t worry my love your safe here”

You pouted, “Okay dream expert I’ll take your word for it.” You slid under the covers an exhausted moan leaving your open lips, Leon joined you underneath as you cuddled into his side.

“Mm baby, you want to order something to eat?” Leon yawned.

“What places are going to be open at 7am on a weekend Leon.” You giggled, poking his nose.

“Don’t worry I know a few.” He replied, pinching your nose in return.

“Hmm okay, If my oneirologist says so.” You both laughed, sinking into the softness of the covers once more.

[sumaneun-stars]

'Four Seven Two Eight'

Chapter 02 — 'So close but so far'

previous | masterlist | next

Pairing. Jay x fem!reader

Genre. Angst, fluff

Warnings. Swearing, unprotected sex, a whole lot of angst etc.

Sypnosis. You didn't know why your heart shattered, when your one sided love, Park Jongseong, left you in the dark- because he was never yours to begin with. You didn't expect what 2 years could do to a person, especially to him, now completely different.

The 9th of February. He was leaving.

Gripping the railing, you faltered once you caught a glimpse of familiar numbers on a familiar car.

‘Four. Seven. Two. Eight’  

Your eyes widened. You scraped the black metal off the railing as you clenched your fists in frustration. 

‘I missed him. Again’

A tear ran down Jay's cheek as he found his home vanishing with the passing clouds. And just like that, he set foot in a foreign land. He forced a smile as his aunt greeted him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thanks aunt, I'll be fine” he sighed. He leant on the closed door, letting himself greet the cold floor.

— 2 years later —

Jay spent his days trying to adapt to a life without you. Soon enough he figured that constantly remembering the life he shared with you would be harder than forgetting you- and so with each step, he erased you little by little.

“Coming!” you replied from your slightly ajar window to the boy waiting outside.

“Bye mom” you said, shoving a toast into your mouth as you made your way to the porch. You didn't hear her reply at your fast footsteps, but assumed it was a ‘take care, dear’.

Almost tripping, you got into his car, earning a bright smile and a greeting from him.

“You nervous?” you asked him.

Sunoo nodded his head without question, making you chuckle.

“You know, we seriously shouldn’t be experimenting your driving skills on the first day of school”

“Oh don’t worry, if we die, we die together” he said, a smug look on his face as he started the engine.

“Awh I really wanted to die with a cute guy by my side though” you mumbled back, earning a playful protest from him.

After your first love left, it took many days to heal and stick the pieces of your broken heart back together. It wasn't until a little boy nudged your shoulder one day that made you realise you had to start over. It was hard, because the only start you knew began with him. So day by day, your social circle expanded with the intention of forgetting him. Your chain of thoughts broke to the halt of the continuous rattle of the car. 

“We’re here in one piece”

“Congratulations” you said as you dramatically wiped the sweat off your forehead.

Midway across the neverending, wide staircase of the entrance of your college, you chuckled at your usually chaotic friends from a distance, until-

‘Four. Seven. Two. Eight.

Those numbers…’

“Y/n aren't you coming?” Pushing away your thoughts, you made your way up the stairs. 

You yawned at the flashing screen of the presentation that blurred before your eyes. You scoffed at the focused expression on Sunoo’s face, before messily drawing on the side of his book.

Chuckling at your childish behaviour, he snatched his pen and brought his face closer and reflected your actions. Your eyes widened at the familiar sharp jawline before your eyes. He turned to face you, a cheeky smile that reached his eyes forming on his face, as he revealed the hidden dimples.

Your eyes trailed down to the side of his neck, searching for the mark only Jay possessed. It wasn't there. It's not him.

You abruptly moved backwards, startled at your own hallucinations. He wasn't coming back. No- he was never coming back. The confusion written on Sunoo's face didn't go unnoticed by you, but you were grateful that he shook it off.

As you walked out of the entrance, your brain couldn't help but drift into thoughts. This wasn't unusual to you, and you were ashamed of yourself for still holding on to Jay even after so many years. You conclude that you had only locked him inside your heart and not thrown him out.

“Ow!” You winced at the flick on the side of your head in which Sunoo gave with a challenging smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Race you to the car?” He asked. And before he could start, you had already begun to sprint along the paved road.

“Hey! You started without me!” You heard him yell as he caught your pace and then walked over to the driver's seat. You panted as he started the car, but it soon turned into a gasp when the song which was adored by the both of you started playing. The further you drove, the more intense the music became.

“Now everyday it rains, and I'm the one to blame. Baby, I walked away…” you sang to your heart's content, dramatically moving your hands with the rhythm.

“It's God's will to make it rain, why're you blaming yourself? He asked you, sizing you up with a questioning look, followed by a chuckle from the both of you.

As sunoo turned into your lane, you realised his notes were in your room. You couldn't be bothered carrying them to school tomorrow- extra weight on your back too- so why not just give it to him now?

“Just come on in and take it!” You tried convincing him.

“No, I don't want it anymore!” He whined, his cheeks flushing pink.

“What do you mean? We have exams to study for!” 

And after two minutes of protesting in the car, you decided to drag him through your front door.

“It's yours, so take it!” you said in between your combined giggles, echoing along the unusually quiet walls of your house.

“No-” you watched him in slight confusion as he looked to his left and bowed with a nervous smile on his face. Your head turned to the direction in which his attention focused on.

‘What the-’

“Mr and Mrs. Park” you stuttered out with a nervous chuckle.

Your eyes fell onto the boy who laid his left leg on his right, and his eyes piercing back and forth on your eyes and your closed grip on Sunoo's wrist.

‘Jay’ you thought to yourself, immediately releasing Sunoo's wrist from your hold.

“Honey, it's Jay. I hope you haven't forgotten” your mother said with a chuckle.

‘No, I haven't. I never did.’

And before you could muster up any words, your mother spoke up once again.

“Oh- Sunoo, dear! Why don't you join us for lunch?”

“Uh-” he exchanged a glance with you. “No- I actually- I need to get going- take care” he placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it with a reassuring smile as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’ and ‘good luck’.

You were left standing there, shock washing over your brain before you were invited to sit across from Jay. His nostalgic hypnotising eyes bore into yours, but the state your brain was in could only muster up one line.

‘I walked away, when you came to stay…

Now everything's grey’

“Why don't you two go upstairs?” Mrs. Park insisted. You nodded with a tiny smile before your eyes asked him to follow you. 

“Lead the way” he mumbled, an uninterested expression on his face as he slid his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans. Your eyes slightly widened, taken aback by the unfamiliar rasp in his voice.

A part of you was excited, and you dared hope that you had a second chance with him. You silently thanked the gods for sending him back to you. You opened your room door, playing with your fingers nervously.

You scanned his face in the silent room, hoping to see any lingering past feelings. None. You watched him walk over to your table, observing the open pile of books resting there. You cleared your throat.

“So how have you-” Smiling, you tried to break the silence but got cut off.

“You actually study?” he scoffed, an insulting smirk on his face right after. Your smile faded almost instantly.

“Uhm- yeah. Well, don't you?” You asked, ignoring the slight disappointment you felt at his remark.

He clicked his tongue. “Who does that?” He mumbled, making his way towards your opened window.

You watched him look out, his head in the clouds- almost like he didn't want to be here. Eyes tinted in rage, he turned his attention to you. The excitement was long gone now.

“So little miss y/n got herself a boyfriend now, huh?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

Speechless. That's how you felt. How could he be so reckless with his words? You scoffed to yourself, shocked at his attitude. You watched his dyed silver hair gleam as he ran his fingers through it, eyeing you for an answer.

“He's a friend,” you said, a little irritated.

“Then what was that whisper about?” He interrogated, almost like he was accusing you of something. What was up with him?

Ignoring his words and trying to keep your calm, you switched the topic.

“Do you need anything to drink?” You asked, giving him an empty smile which didn't reach your eyes. Something about him made you lose your patience. 

“Thanks babe, but I'm leaving now” giving your shoulder a slight squeeze, he walked towards the door. Confused with your emotions, you ignored the thump in your heart at the statement. Was it possible to feel anger and butterflies at the same time towards a person?

You were dumbfounded. How could a person change so much? The excitement you felt had all been replaced with pure disgust. And instead of thanking the gods for bringing Jay back, you prayed that you'd never see him again, but deep down you knew you didn't mean that. But although the son was rotten, his parents were still pure. Your second parents as always. 

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, before your body stiffened at Mrs. Park's words.

“Hey since you two are in the same university now, why don't you go together?” She suggested, earning a nervous chuckle from you. “Just like old times!”

‘Just like old times.’

You rolled your eyes to yourself as Jay played an innocent facade in front of the parents.

— 7.54 A.M —

You heard a series of abrupt knocking on the front door, making you chuckle at Sunoo's impatience.

“Give me a second, I'm coming” you shouted in a playfully as you ran towards the door. The smile you wore dropped once you were met with the boy on the other side.

Oh, him. Great.

“What's wrong, babe? Excited to see me?” His leaning figure against the frame of the door asked, wearing a smug look. His silver hair shimmering to the light and left eyebrow raised playfully. The audacity.

You were disgusted at the butterflies in your stomach. What the hell was wrong with you? You pulled yourself together. “To be honest, no” you spat.

You smiled when Sunoo's honking engulfed Jay's next remark, and you walked past him, unbothered (not forgetting to bump him on the shoulder). You can be an asshole if you wanted to, Jay.

“Off we g-” Sunoo got cut off by the loud slam of the door behind him, earning an exhausted sigh from you.

“Sunoo, Jay.”

“Jay, Sunoo.” you introduced.

Sunoo extended his hand with a ‘hi’, but got nothing in return but a cold smile. You felt sorry for Sunoo to have to put up with Jay's antics. The ride to school was silent and entirely uncomfortable. You wanted to sink into your seat. Literally.

You were grateful you could run out of the rattling machine. Or else- run away from him. The whole ride, you could feel Jay's eyes on you. Everytime you looked at the side-mirror, you would catch him sizing you up.

You let out a gasp as a hand wrapped itself around your waist and pulled you to face him. His face was inches apart from yours, a little bit closer and you were afraid that he'd hear the banging of your chest and see right through the mask you worked so hard to build. The tips of his long, silver bangs tingled on your forehead at the wind, sending goosebumps all over. His hawk eyes bore into your startled ones.

“Thanks for the ride. How can I repay you, princess?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Your moans filled Jay's ears as his hands ran over your body, he smirked when your nails dug into his shoulder. He moved back, admiring the marks he had left on your neck.

“Come here, doll” he commanded.

Jay smirked when you walked over to him with your cheeks flushed in red. He pulled you to his chest, kissing the breath out of you. He chuckled when your tongue tried to push itself to meet his. So needy.

He moaned when you shamelessly palmed his length. Jay shoved you backwards and bent you over a nearby table, earning a desperate whine from you.

“Patience, doll” he raised your skirt and slapped your ass.

“Jay, I want your-” you earned another smack.

“Manners,” 

With a single finger, he pulled out your panties and bent down to look at your sweet liquid dirtying the floor. 

He couldn't help but slide his cock into your long awaited hole. He was out of control. He pulled it back out only to throw his dick back in, thrusting into you at an unforgiving speed. He waited for this for too long.

When his dick twitched, he knew he was close. He thrusted faster, chasing his climax, but paused at the face he noticed outside the door. 

The liquid that formed on your eyes glistened from the light of the evening sun- a slight rainbow shielding your vision from the horrible sight before you. You watched his horrified expression as he rapidly untangled himself from the girl he was holding. You tore your eyes away and cursed your heart for being this fragile. You spent so long mending that stupid thing, but it all crumbled in a mere second. 

Your fists clenched at the high pitched whining and the shuffling noises behind you. Just like a flowing river, your tears fell, meeting your already drenched cheeks. You barged yourself into the furthest classroom in the corridor, and was grateful that it was empty.

Your body gave in to the nearest table, sitting yourself down and laying your head on your crossed arms. You dug your nails into your palms, creating red crescents on your skin and trying to feel anything but the throbbing pain in your chest. You could draw blood out of rage, but thought the better of it.

‘How could he… how could he be so-’ reality hit you like an arrow through your head.

It was never his fault- it was yours. Your stupid, childish brain who latched onto the pieces of the boy who used to wear formal shirts with matching bow ties.

“Y/n? Hey, you alright?” Your head raised up at the familiar voice and a soft hand on your arm. Without a second thought, you hid yourself in Sunoo's shirt, grateful that he didn't question you.

“If you like him, just say it,” his voice was lower than a whisper.

“What?” you forced yourself to look at him.

“I know you heard, don't lie to me, y/n”

“I-”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You threw a cushion on the couch, frustrated that you were doing this just to host Jay and other random strangers tonight. You hated wasting time on people that didn't matter to you. Jay mattered once… but never again. You weren't going to get swayed by him once more. He can fuck any girl he wants- it was not going to bother you. You were done. You tried to maintain that confidence when you heard the main door open and the voices of your second parents fill the living room downstairs.

‘I'm gonna see his face any second now’

You wore a hollow expression when you saw Jay in his silver chains and his still unfamiliar fashion sense.

“Uh-” he walked awkwardly towards one of the sofas and leant on it.

“Oh, Jay- didn't see you there!” You said cheerfully, cutting him off like he did to you.

Startled was the only word in which he could explain the situation his brain was in. You were… smiling. After all he had done? Why were you smiling at him? And what was with your tone?

He was sure you were crying back in that classroom.

“Y/n, wait!” He yelled, shoving the girl who he imagined as you aside and ran after you silently.

After looking through every square glass panel on the doors, he finally spotted you hunching over a table. His heart ached at the way your body trembled with every sob you let out.

What has he done? You were crying. Again. All he did was make you cry. He was so idiotic to get turned on by that one moment when you locked eyes with him. Not to mention the fuel to the fire whenever he saw you. No amount of jerking off could satisfy him anymore. He needed you. He hated that he couldn't hold you when you were right next to him. 

So close but so far.

You needed consoling, but not from him. And so, he let his hand slip away from the handle of the door. Making a run for someone who was not him, he spotted Sunoo in the corridor. Perfect. He couldn't believe the contrast of how he was the only one for you, but now he was pathetically searching for someone else to replace him.

“Hey Jay, you seen y/n?” 

“Follow me” he said, grabbing Sunoo's wrist and leading him towards where you were. Sunoo looked at your state through the panel, and before he could turn the handle of the door, Jay halted him by the shoulder.

“You didn't hear this from me”

A/n: flashback to Yuna searching for her pencil Iike her life depended on it at like 3am and turns out it was in her hair GOSH. @yunabi436

[thebeatles-world]

John Lennon X Assistant Reader Part 4

---

The silence in the room stretched on as you stood by the window, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You couldn’t avoid it any longer. You turned back toward the bed, where Ringo was sitting up, watching you with a gentle, concerned expression.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice still thick with sleep.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "We need to talk."

Ringo frowned slightly, sensing the seriousness in your tone. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. "What’s wrong?"

You could feel the tension tightening in your chest as you struggled to find the right words. How were you supposed to explain something that was so complicated, so tangled with emotions you weren’t even sure you understood yourself? But you had to. There was no other choice.

“Last night… it can’t happen again," you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended. “We need to pretend it never happened.”

Ringo’s face fell. “Why?”

You turned away from him, feeling the weight of his gaze as you stared out the window again. “Because of John,” you said quietly. “I’ve been… I’ve been close to him for so long. He trusts me. And I don’t know how to face him now.” You paused, biting your lip. "I can’t let this ruin everything."

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Ringo didn’t say anything for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a sadness you didn’t want to hear. “Do you regret it?”

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. Did you regret it? You thought back to the way Ringo had held you last night, the warmth of his touch, the way he’d made you feel seen and cared for in a way that John never had. But John was still a part of you—he was supposed to be *the* part of you.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice cracking just a little. “But I have to push it out of my mind. I can’t hurt him, Ringo. We can’t hurt him.”

Ringo nodded slowly, though the look in his eyes told you he understood more than you realized. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

You felt a rush of relief but also an ache in your chest as he said those words. You didn’t want to pretend—not really—but what choice did you have? You gave him a small, grateful smile before turning back to the window.

---

For the rest of the day, you tried to act normal, pushing the events of the previous night to the back of your mind. John showed up in his usual charming way, teasing you, making you laugh, and for a moment, it almost felt like nothing had changed. You kept reminding yourself that John was where your focus should be. You were supposed to be with him, not Ringo.

But every time you glanced at Ringo, who lingered quietly in the background, you felt that familiar pull, that nagging reminder of what had happened between you two. You told yourself over and over that it was a mistake. But deep down, you didn’t regret it. Not really.

John reached for your hand, pulling you into one of his stories, his voice filled with warmth, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Ringo. He caught your eye once, just for a brief second, and it was enough to stir something inside you. You forced a smile for John, pretending everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

---

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fully erase the memory of Ringo. It stayed with you, just beneath the surface, no matter how much you pretended. You might have convinced yourself that things could go back to normal with John, but deep down, you knew better.

Nothing was ever going to be the same.

[grapejuicestyless]

Two People

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: They still love each other, but they can not communicate it. Inspired by the song “Two People” by Gracie Abrams.

Conrad sat out on the beach, his hair blowing the way the wind took it. He wore that same red sweatshirt it seemed he always had on these days. Paired with that same lifeless black and white expression that graced his beautiful face.

A cigarette hung between his pointer and middle finger, daring to fall into the sand if he moved too suddenly. The ash already piling below him. The paper burning quickly, Conrad oblivious to it or, uncaring if he had known.

“I figured I might find you out here.” My words were soft, unsure of how he was feeling.

I used to know Conrad. Know how he was feeling based solely on his posture or the way he put effort into himself on certain days. If he breathed heavy or not, I could see right through him. Physically, I guess I still knew him. I always would. He would always be there, sitting in the sand at the summer home, distant in his mind but here none the less. Mentally, I knew nothing of him, it seemed. His interests all slipping away and his upsets unknown. Changing too quick for me to keep up.

“Here I am.” His words were just as quiet, floating off into the empty space surrounding us.

Turn around, why are you talking so slowly?

Speechless. Something that never happened between us. A conversation flowing easily between us. One that never had to be thought on as the other never took anything too seriously. Now it felt like everything was so much deeper. Like each word needed to be carefully crafted to even get a response from him.

“I see why you spend so much time down here, it’s beautiful.” The smile on my face was genuine, and heavy. The waves serving a reminder to all the time we spent down at Cousins together. My heart beating through my chest in hope that I could get something started again.

“I guess.” He shrugged, twisting the bud in his hand out in the sand. I guess that answered my question. He was always so observant so it was obvious, but he was never careless. Not until this summer.

My attempts dead on the very sand where we once laid playing around for hours. Tangled in each others limbs. Playing best friends while behind secure walls, we were so much more.

I was in love, not stupid. Even in my heartache I could see that I was not welcome here in the storm that Conrad was causing with his own actions. Sand fell as I stood. I wiped it off my skin as he had done to my attempts to try to relearn him. And left.

Why's it feel like you don't even know me?

How are you looking at me like a stranger?

I'm a radar for every deal breaker

It was the same internal fight each week. My brain finally convincing my heart that in his change of heart, it was time to erase the memories of our nonexclusive relationship. A messy summer love that was a mistake, obviously. Yet with each moving on, he was there to remind me of why it had begun in the first place.

Each date ending unsatisfactory. Each boy not able to deliver the same love that he had. Each kiss dull compared to the sparks that shocked me when his lips pressed against mine.

And each one ending in my hands pressed against my eyes, back hunched and knees bent in the stools near the island countertops. The lightest room in the dark. Each time he was there, idly passing through to grab something that could be added to the pile of mess in his once neat bedroom. Usually he was silent.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you keep trying.” Usually.

My head shot up, slower than it felt but the pounding inside of my skull from another wasted night made everything worse. If my face hadn’t fallen before, it had now.

“I don’t know Conrad, at least I’m trying.” It was meant to be a dig at his lack of presence in my life. I believe that he knew that, but I lacked all fight. Each bone in my body aching, a lingering tiredness never leaving.

“Maybe you should stop, it’s not doing you any good.”

“What, like you?” My voice on edge, my eyes shot daggers at him. He stood there, back against the counters, water bottle in hand. He shrugged. Not even trying to seem like he cared.

“You know, I loved you so hard for a time. I don’t know why I did, honestly.” Like a ghost, I had slipped from the scene almost as if I had never even been there. Like my words and my impulsive confession ceased to exist.

I've tried to ration it out all my life

We could go yellow to black overnight

I never wanted to fight her, never trying to hurt her. But I couldn’t be present in her life without bringing her down. It was my own fault for getting stuck in the head. My lack of enthusiasm was only mine to blame.

I believed by downplaying how crushed I was when the world crashed around me, I could avoid it. And in that, I pushed away the one good thing in my life, forced to watch as she searched for another to fill her heart after I’d so cruelly crushed it.

I take you for granted because you are mine. Something she no longer was. Mine. She would always be near, only just down the hall. But we weren’t what we once were. No longer together, only coexisting.

Don't know what to say

Two People can change

Don’t think we’re above

Might happen to us.

Isn’t it strange?

We’ll die anyway

Don’t think we’re above

Might happen to us, mm

Each day was worse than the next, a reminder of what was lost only feet away from me, his voice still ringing in my ears. Each shirt sentence he mumbled or sloppy action somehow resurfacing an old memory. Years of togetherness that once held me together only ripping me further apart.

How strange it was to be a stranger in your own story. Someone you couldn’t even recognize. A sour mood the only thing I felt, the only thing Conrad and I seemed to still have in common. The rest of our interests dying with his own will.

And it was all so…lonely.

Now to make sense of half of a decade

Feels like walking alone on the freeway

The quiet bedrooms, the neat couch cushions. The clean counters the still hammocks. Each suffering their own loneliness in my own. Each sharing their own memories of Conrad and I.

Of how he’d baked with me in the kitchen, throwing around the flour just to get a reaction out of me. White powder coating both of our shirts.

Of how we’d lay intertwined on the couch, his hand in mine and his heart beating in my ear. The movie unimportant as I had the most interesting thing right next to me. The most important thing.

How we’d spent each night in his room, playing cards and laughing as quietly as possible. Pillows thrown in faces and clothes scattering on the floor. Hands on my hips and skin touching skin. Feet buried in the comforter, lips pressed to mine, breath nonexistent in those moments we spent so close. Much closer than friends should be. The hammock getting our after, hairlines sweaty and faces red. Not because we were ashamed, but because it was so much more than we thought it could’ve been. His legs tangling over mine and his shirt covering my body. A routine that was so familiar it was still vivid in my mind.

His touch, his voice, how everything felt with him. Safe.

'Cause you know everything that could kill me

And you know, you know every inch of my body

Now it all felt so, fake. Something that seemed more of a distraction. His unwanted behaviors towards me hinting that in the end, he never truly cared for me. He never really wanted me. I could hold on, hoping for something that would never come but I refused to allow him to hold such power over me. Life would go on and I could move on.

I loved you so hard for a time

So why am I clawin' at you to survive?

She was all I saw, the only thing I ever wanted, needed. Her smile infectious and her voice like honey. So sweet and calming. My first love. Sometimes-no, all the time I swear she is the only girl I could ever love. The only person I could see myself with. My counterpart. My equal.

I missed her touches on my cheeks, cold hands from the pool water nice on my cheeks. She’s tell me I was cold hearted, I’d promise it was only for everyone else. How I would be warm for her, loving for her. Maybe I said it too quietly, she could’ve never heard the promise. Maybe that’s why it all ended so abruptly. My touches no longer feeling enough and my quiet body sitting by hers not nearly enough.

I had failed her, I saw it from the beginning. I wish I knew what to say, to make it all right, to convince her I still cared. How I hadn’t changed, just forgot how to show how I felt. But it was far too late, and I was sure she hated me by now.

Hate how we touched just to push things aside

When you take me for granted, I make it alright

When summer ended, it was just as quiet as it had began. Conrad’s presence distant and uncaring. His face blank and his body paler than last summer. Hair untamed and eyes red.

It was almost like someone had swapped the real Conrad for a fake, a twin that looked like him, but inside could never match the depth of him.

When I left that summer, it wasn’t drawn out like last time. It wasn’t us hiding underneath the bedsheets so Laurel and Belly would have to chase, Steven threatening to drive off without me. It was my feet cemented to the driveway, head tilted downward in each hug, not truly believing anything was real.

When Conrad and I met to say our goodbyes, it felt just as empty as our hellos, and I knew we wouldn’t be talking over the colder months.

Don't know what to say

Two people can change

Don't think we're above

Might happen to us

Oh, isn't it strange?

We'll die anyway

Don't think we're above

Might happen to us, mm

Mm, mm, mm, mm

Mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm, mm

Seeing her so down that morning was something I had wished I never saw. The life drained from her skin, and it was all my doing. How lively she had been in June, eager to pick up where it left off, only to be treated like dirt. Something I regretted each day.

Still, I believed she was beautiful. Even in our empty goodbye, one that held no real meaning, I promised I would try to make up for the lost time. I would try to get her back each day. Until my calls were sent straight to voicemail and my texts left dry and unread. I would hold on until I had nothing left to give. So even if I lost her, I could say I tried.

Don't know what to say

Two people can change

Don't think we're above

Might happen to us

Isn't it strange?

We'll die anyway

Don't think we're above

Might happen to us, mm

[hackerqueen]

Another Love

Chapter 5: Hotel

Previous <-

warnings: argument, sex scene

Silence.

Tense silence reigned between us when the black-haired hacker hastily locked the door of room number 9. My attention was immediately caught by the desk with the boy's laptop on it. I didn't even try to understand the stamps and other numbers dancing on the screen. It could be hacking government data or counting down to the atomic bomb. I wouldn't even be surprised if it turned out to be the latter. Nothing was obvious with this man.

Jake took the mask off his face and sat down on the small couch, inviting me to sit with him. I shook my head and leaned against the wall. After another few seconds of silence as the hacker hung his head, I cleared my throat and he immediately looked up at me. I looked at him meaningfully, and Jake swallowed.

– What would you like to know?

I looked at him in surprise and of course a little anger. Is he fucking joking?

– I don't know, maybe I need an explanation? – I asked throwing up my hands – How come I was at your funeral two years ago and now you're sitting across from me like nothing happened?

– When I was in that mine and found out the FBI was already here, I knew it wasn't good. – he looked at me seriously with his blue eyes – However, I found a completely unknown exit that had not yet been patrolled. I had little time to come up with a plan. Then I came up with the idea of faking my death. I asked Lilly for help and she stubbornly agreed.

– But why didn't I know about it? – I asked, feeling my hands begin to tremble

– I figured it would be best for both of us.

That sentence made my heart completely take over my mind.

– I trusted you. With everything. – I started, feeling my voice shaking with anger – I blindly believed you, and you dare say that you knew what was best for me?!

– I dit it because I had to, not because I ever wanted to. – with these words he got up from the couch and very slowly started to approach me – I knew you well enough that I was aware that if you knew that I was alive, you would look for me. And the worst part is, I'd let you catch me.

– You could have explained it all to me! Fuck, did you even think for one second what I was going through!?

– You think it was easy for me?! Every day I wondered what would have happened if everything had gone differently. You corrupted every inch of my life, mind and sleep. But I did it so that you could get over it and go back to a normal, safe life.

We were both almost panting from the emotions we had held for so long. I felt the first tear fall from my eye, which I quickly wiped away. I hated showing weakness, especially in front of people I cared about.

– And I'm not a little child! I knew what I was getting into when I was contacting you. How could you be such a dick and decide for me?! – the words spilled out of my mouth mindlessly, but now I didn't care if they hurt him or not. – It was always like this. You made the decisions, and I dutifully obeyed. But this time was fucking different! You disappear, and I wonder what would have happened if I had gone to the mine. It wasn't about finding your sister, it was about your damn life! Do you know what it's like to blame yourself for the death of someone important to you?! You're a fucking coward, you know Jake?! Because now you're blaming it on my safety instead of admitting you're fucking selfish! And why do you come back here after two years and act like nothing happened? If you wanted to erase yourself from my life, you should do it permanently!

– I wasn't planning to meet you. – he cut me off in a calm tone again, and he was so close that I had to look up to meet his eyes. – I was here to meet Lilly. I'm still wanted, so I was supposed to leave tomorrow.

I looked at him with reddened eyes, not believing what I was hearing. I didn't know what hurt more, the earlier words or the fact that I wasn't important enough to him anymore that he didn't want me to know he was okay?

– Lilly planned it all. I didn't know there would be anyone else in that house but her. I didn't know you'd be there. – he continued stabbing daggers into my heart – And when I saw you, everything fell apart. I didn't know anything anymore. When I saw you ran away, I wanted to run after you and explain everything. But Dan stopped me. He told me to fuck off, and that's what I wanted to do. I was already sitting on the motorcycle, but why couldn't I start it? I couldn't, because I was bound to you by some strange, invisible thread. – he fell into some word flow through which I pressed my hand to the head, trying not to listen to him – You see what you're doing to me? I don't even know how to explain it.

– If you keep talking, I have no idea what I'll do to you. – I interrupted him and hot tears ran down my cheeks – Stop it.

– I just can't erase my feelings. Believe me, I have tried. – he did not stop, continuing the subject of feelings, and his blue eyes were so full of them that it hurt – I can't forget about you.

– What's your goal, huh? – I glared at him angrily, his vision blurred by tears. In a fury, I started pounding on his arms. – Why are you telling me all this? You weren't here!

– Take out all of your anger on me. – He cut me off suddenly and I gave him a dull look. He stared so deeply into my eyes that I shivered. – I see that's what you want. Do it.

His words gave me a momentary shock. For a moment I didn't know how to react, but finally I felt a new fire in my lungs that spurred me to action. It was too late anyway. Emotions and unspoken words flooded my body.

– You have no fucking idea how much I hate you. – I started and I could already feel the tears streaming down my cheeks down my neck and cleavage and disappearing under the dress I was wearing. – I hate you so much, Jake. – I punched him hard in the face and he let me. His head turned the other way from the force I put into the punch, but it didn't matter to me. It felt good to finally let out those suppressing and suffocating feelings. – Most of all I want to forget you, but now all that's left is hatred. And you know what's the worst, Jake? I don't mean that you faked your death and I didn't know about it. I hate you because you weren't there when I needed you the most. I didn't have anyone here and I thought I lost you too!

Another sharp blow, which he also took. As if he accepted his punishment with humility. I continued to hurt him with my words until finally when I was about to hit him again he firmly grabbed my hand stopping me from hitting him. He locked eyes with me and they were so angry and full of tears and emotion. He wiped the tears from my face with his other hand, then cupped my cheek. And he completely cut me off.

His lips pressed to mine. Surged to mine. Covered them. Hard.

He kissed me lustfully and hard, making me dizzy. Christ, he was so hungry for me. And I was for him, even though I was still trying to analyze what the fuck was going on.

Jake was kissing me.

Kissing me.

He let go of my hand, moving his other hand to my face as well. He kissed me like there was no tomorrow, like I was dream or imaginary. He took my breath away, and I didn't owe him. I tangled my fingers in his hair and Jake pinned me against the wall. My nimble fingers began to strip him of his clothes, and he tried to unbutton my dress. I don't remember how we ended up in the bedroom, on the hotel bed and the only clothes left on my body were panties.

For that moment, I felt like I was in another reality and as if our separation didn't exist or didn't matter. I slowly and tastefully brushed those wonderful lips with mine, digging my nails into the nape of the boy's neck. But not so gently, he turned me to face the sheets and pressed my head firmly against it.

– Bend over and spread your legs. – he demanded throatily, slapping my ass and choking my moan – Please.

I rested my hands on the sheets, obediently obeying his command, additionally melting under the influence of his unearthly voice, which I could listen to all day.

He firmly grabbed the fabric of my lace red panties and slid them down my legs, leaving me completely naked.

– Is it okay? – he whispered over my ear, pressing my naked ass to his crotch, his hand circling my clit creating unimaginable pleasure.

I replied with a short mumble, wanting this more than anything in my entire life. He massaged me with his fingers and moaned with me as I writhed like a helpless animal beneath him. But I wanted something more. I wanted to feel all of him.

– Fuck me, Jake. – I mumbled

I clutched the scraps of white sheet in my hands, uttering loud curses as I felt his cock at the very entrance.

He covered my mouth with his hand, placing his finger between my lips, which I immediately sucked. Before entering me deeply, he brushed my wetness several times with his head all the way down my clitoris. The tension between us built, our moans merging as he moved faster and faster inside me.

– Fuck. – he swore racily, his fingers tightening on the top of my head, which was still pressed against the mattress

– Harder. – I gasped as I felt another punch to my ass. He pulled my hair into a ponytail and pulled my head back, biting my earlobe.

– Could he make you feel as good as I do? –he asked, but I couldn't form a meaningful sentence at the time. His thrusts were brutal and ruthless. Like he was pouring out all his anger and stress from the whole fucked up situation. I suspected he was talking about Phil, though I had no idea how he knew that. He responded to my loud and pitiful moans with a soft, hoarse laugh – You're mine.

He growled the last words into my ear, then let go of my head again and pressed my neck against the bed. I was a mess, ready to do anything to keep the pleasure going. I was sure that the marks of his strong hands on my hips and ass will stay with me for a long time.

Not long after, he changed position and this time he spun me around, hovering over me, wiping his sweaty forehead with his forearm in the process. He kissed me ferociously on the lips, and I deepened the kiss, wishing the man would never leave again.

He lifted one of my legs, caressed it tenderly and placed gentle kisses on it, then placed it on his shoulder and again enterned me deeply. We were panting at the same time, and Jake additionally grabbed my wrists and placed them above my head.

It was hard for me to focus on anything, because of the overwhelming pleasure I couldn't stick a sentence together. I knew one thing - I had never experienced such emotions before, even though I was not inexperienced. I've had sex with a few people who did it damn well, but tonight was different. Today I connected with a man for whom I had deep feelings without even seeing his face or hearing his voice. Now, after more than two years of longing, I could see him. Kiss him. Touch him.

– Jake! – I cried as he pressed his other hand to my throat. Our eyes met each other. Warm brown with cold, analytical blue. Jake looked like a fallen angel. His black, disheveled hair, lips swollen from our kisses and deep gaze staring straight at me, which completely consumed me, made my lower abdomen tighten more and more.

I was incredibly close to orgasm, which the boy must have felt, because I felt his long fingers on my clitoris, which after a while he began to massage. I could barely bear it. I arched and rolled my eyes in lust as I heard his loud, heavenly moans of pleasure close to my ear.

After a short while orgasm completely took over my body. I clamped down on his dick, coming with his name leaving my mouth. I tugged hard on the ends of his black hair, tilting my neck back.

I barely opened my eyes, and in that very moment, I reveled in the warmth spreading inside of me. Jake let out a hard moan, stopping his lips to my exposed neck, which he began to bite. He stopped moving, but didn't pull his dick out of me for a while.

After a few moments, he left my body and lay down, dragging me with him. I didn't protest. He pulled me into his chest and I cuddled up to him as tight as I could. I breathed in his scent, enjoying the simple human closeness. After all, I didn't know if I wasn't dreaming. As I was on the verge of sleep, I heard his hoarse whisper.

– I missed you.

[edgyonporpoise]

Prison of Plastic

Hey so I just finished reading/listening to Prison of Plastic, Epithet Erased’s book continuation, and my heart! Is full! My soul! Is nourished! And there is something spoilery! I have to scream about! Under the cut!

OKaY, so. I haven't seen Anime Campaign and I have no intention to, I wanna experience this story as it releases. BUT. Naven is absolutely 100% the secret final boss, right? They could be doing the whole "You thought the obvious twist villain was a villain, but there's a twist to this twist! Ooo~ooo~oo~~" but for now I'm operating on the assumption that he is and like. Fuck dude, he was so MAD.

In his little (hah, fairy) speech to Molly about talking to brick walls? That right there, is a normal person in a world with superpowers. Silly superpowers, but still, this story is very clear about how dangerous those powers are. This is a speech from someone who has Tried to talk it out, to have Mundie voices heard. He has tried to claw his way up, to build a respectable business run by, employing and catering to Mundies, to shove it in their dumb superpowered faces that normal people are still capable people.

And he is tired of being put down.

Tired enough to swing the wrecking ball through society, to tear down Epithets and everything they stand for. Think about it! Even if he is actually that nice guy we see, think about all the bullshit Epithets can cause. Think about the 17-year-old, so traumatized and scared of herself that she threw a tantrum so hard it took up his entire evening and nearly seriously injured 3 different people! (She threw Molly down a dumbwaiter. She nearly toppled literal tons of cake on him. She DISAPPEARED Rick's HEART!) Sure, it was an evening he had set aside for a speech class, but three hours late to finish it? He's a CEO of a multinational conglomerate. How many cross-timezone meetings did they have to reschedule? The fact that he takes the time out to make sure to urge Lorelai to check the message from Giovanni, even though no-one can see him and it doesn't seem to further any goal for recruiting Lorelai for his terrorist org besides making her feel better, makes me thing there's some sincerity to him. But that makes it all the juicier!

Makes me think of the line where Gio's spouting about people who think they're good but still do bad stuff! Makes me think about how Naven, snarky little pixie who's been playing along with Gio's rambles in any other way suddenly stops speaking at that point and doesn't come back in until after. (And maybe that's just for the flow of the scene but I can just imagine him floating in the background with suddenly flinty eyes while no-one's looking)

Makes me think of the little girl, the little girl he has implied he would kidnap (from what Molly's flashbacks said anyway) if it weren't for the laws holding him back, who crumbles under the weight of the world, of her family's business expenses. Yes, maybe Molly is right, maybe absolutely no-one knows what they're doing. But it is a human instinct to shield the children from the horrors of reality, to give them some small amount of time where they can be carefree. A shitty father, a bratty sister, and Epithets took that away from Molly.

Maybe Naven is just salty at Epithet users for looking down on him for being Mundie. Maybe he thinks he'll be doing the world a service, bringing it back to normal. Maybe he just thinks that these things are dangerous, and should be... Regulated in some way.

Maybe he's right? Even to people who do have these powers. People like Lorelai, who are scared of their own abilities. Or people like Mera, actively harmed by their Epithets. Or the whole IDEA of Ocean Country citizens being farmed for EXP. Damn, the idea of Down With Epithet Society makes a whole lotta sense.

And guys who make you think "Huh, that makes sense." are the most dangerous of all.

Silver-Tongued businessman, indeed.

[the-somwthing]

Who wants to hear how I see flower husbands (WARNING: it’s bad. My interpretation I mean. It’s not a good one. Everyone is gonna hate it. It’s gonna look like I don’t take anything seriously except I’m completely serious about it being this stupid. If you care a lot about flower husbands interpretations whether positive or negative you might want to look away)

So 3rd Life starts and Scott is evil. For some reason. Jimmy finds him and he KNOWS that Scott sucks but he decides “I can fix him ❤️” except he DOESN’T EVEN TRY to fix him because he loves him the way he is. For some reason.

Scott was evil but being given a flower warmed his heart ONLY ENOUGH TO TRY HAVING A HUSBAND. He didn’t actually become any better or anything and barely showed this love to Jimmy.

JIMMY, however, was very happy with Scott being with him. Now Scott certainly did things that Jimmy wasn’t so happy with, but also you’re not a real jimmy solidarity viewer if you think he isn’t into guys who degrade him. He also viewed himself as quite incompetent and enjoyed having someone who was more competent and would correct his mistakes. NOT THE MOST HEALTHY and sometimes felt to Jimmy like it backfired BUT OVERALL HE WAS PRETTY HAPPY WITH IT.

If anyone ever said “dude this is an abusive relationship you’re in” he would’ve been like “yeah Scott’s so annoying” and Scott would’ve been like “BINCH HOW DARE YOU” and they would’ve got into a fist fight. So the other person goes “WOAH okay so you’re gonna break up then” and they go “no ❤️” and start making out. Nobody knows what this means.

In reality everyone who would point out that the relationship is toxic would ONLY be doing it because they have an ulterior motive cuz EVERYONE IN 3L WAS TOXIC AF 😭 also if they gathered all of the couples together they would ALL start fighting each other so even though FH is TECHNICALLY the worst they manage to LOOK like the healthiest couple by virtue of NOT CARING.

Then Jimmy dies and Scott FINALLY goes “WAIT A MINUTE… I loved him 🥺💔” like it ACTUALLY took him THAT LONG to figure it out. The feelings were actually there the whole time slowly growing but Scott couldn’t recognize them. Not until he lost Jimmy.

And so Jimmy, who saw evil scott smajor and said “I can fix him” and proceeded to NOT EVEN TRY doing that, ended up ACTUALLY FIXING HIM. I mean obviously he still has issues but he stopped having pure evil in his heart and started having a more average amount of evil typical of quite a few life series players.

Now Jimmy’s job is done and he must leave. OKAY SORRY. I have a few interpretations as to why Jimmy tends to act off about FH later on. Here’s some, feel free to mix and match idk.

- well feelings get erased between seasons maybe they REALLY FREAKING wiped Jimmy’s clean

- a big reason Jimmy went with Scott was because he saw Scott as more competent, but Jimmy’s slowly started having more faith in himself so loving Scott is just a reminder of how pathetic he used to be, so whenever Scott insinuates that Jimmy loves him Jimmy equates that to saying Jimmy’s pathetic and needs Scott to take care of him. And he’s not.

- Ever since he died in 3L Scott has been suspiciously less violently abusive which turned Jimmy off so now he needs to go find a new toxic bf cuz all Scott does now is give him flowers and THATS NOT WHY HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! 😭 (worst option)

- THE REASON I’m not going with the popular “jimmy realized how much the relationship sucked” thing is because Jimmy tends to look back on a lot of FH stuff pretty fondly AND likes being FRIENDLY with Scott he just doesn’t seem to like the topic of them being IN LOVE.

- it could also be because Scott is annoying af and Jimmy would’ve been fine with it actually if Scott didn’t bring it up every single chance he gets

Also a lot of people when talking about 3L FH bring up empires s1 FH but guys I didn’t watch that season 😭 I mean I watched that date episode I don’t really have anything to say on it. I think esmp1 FH is funny tho cuz the uber fancy elf king goes “I NEED that slimy fish from the bog” but idrk what goes on in esmp1. And also I am VERY “separate SMPs” so whatever goes on in esmp STAYS in esmp LMAO I just mean it’s mostly irrelevant to my life series interpretation.

And then future life seasons like eh. Scott typically ends up ruining it by saying “we were married” every time he sees Jimmy like OKAY BRO way to show your ex you’ve stopped thinking about him slash SARCASM!!!

I am still team LIMITED LIFE FH. Limited Life FH is FH if it was good. I really don’t get why people use it as a negative fh thing it was like their most positive relationship in the whole series. I think the only time Scott wronged him was accidentally causing his death one or more times. Then asking him to say I love you back which is really not like the worst thing you can do to someone really LMAO.

Anyways this is supposed to be about 3L FH. I like 3L FH cuz they’re so weird. Is it healthy? No. Should it have traumatized them? Yeah probably. Did it? No. Was everything really under-negotiated? Yes. Did even THEY understand THEIR OWN relationship? Not really. Is this a GOOD interpretation? Probably not, no. Is Jimmy okay? Probably not but he’s a lot more okay than he should be. Is Scott okay? Dude. He’s something.

Long story short my interpretation of Jimmy is a lot more freaky than most others. idk guys JUST saying. WHO does he gravitate towards being gay with? Usually guys who bully him. Checkmate. Now I’m not saying he knows what he’s doing but he certainly THINKS he does.

I don’t know man. You can talk to me about FH like it’s a good relationship or like Scott traumatized Jimmy and I’ll try to match your energy but this is the truth I have been hiding deep inside of me for so long. I think they’re a weird mess that nobody wants to touch. (In just 3L. Cuz Jimmy somehow fixed Scott by standing there and dying. So they became more normal later on.)