#games ending is always sad even though there are always another ones

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 8

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, suggestive themes, again with the slight smut phew, angst on top of more angst, no comfort... yet (or ever? hmm much to ponder about)  A/N: Imagine if I leave it here lmao Also, I've been listening to White Ferrari on repeat while editing this chapter. I'm not saying that you should too while you're reading, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Oh, and Angel by Massive Attack. Trust me, it's gonna come up. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8

The cold tiles of the bathroom floor wreak a shiver through your body.

You’re curled up in front of the toilet, barely upright after another round of puking what little bile is left in your stomach. Cold beads of sweat dot your forehead and every breath feels thin, ragged, like you’re trying to gulp air through a pinhole. The chill seeps under your skin, leaving you shuddering involuntarily between dry heaves. 

You make the rookie mistake of tilting your head ever-so-slightly to rest against the cool porcelain, and the miniscule action threatens to send the room careening into another violent spin. A wave of nausea hits you and you desperately gnaw on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from gagging.

You feel like absolute shit. 

There’s something lodged inside, sinking deep into the pit of your stomach. A poison, a corruption—heavier than the excess of alcohol still clawing its way through your system. It isn’t the simple penance for overindulging, no; it’s darker, rawer, less perfunctory than the remnants of last night’s events. 

It churns inside you, leaving an acrid, metallic taste on your tongue and a dull ache behind your eyes. 

The buzzing of your phone reverberates beside you, a relentless vibration against your thigh. It hasn’t stopped since the moment you clawed your way out of bed and staggered toward your porcelain waste bucket. You weren’t supposed to bring it along with you—it should’ve been left abandoned outside of this room, far from this bleak sanctuary. This… this disgusting aftermath of your revelry. 

Unfortunately, it’s practically an extension of you now. A limb, almost. Or worse, a crutch—something you lean on so habitually, that the mere thought of its absence feels like an amputation.

“S-sorry,” you release a shaky breath, tears pricking your vision, unbidden. Unwelcome. “Sorry.” 

Another vibration. You can picture it clearly in your head: the worry marring his face, the exasperation in his eyes.

You retch.

––––

The red takeout box from Panda Express sits in front of you, its contents lukewarm and forgotten for the better part of the hour. You barely remember ordering it—actually, now that you think about it… Did you even order it yourself? Your memory’s a little hazy, just like everything else today. And last night.

Sylus’ voice crackles through your phone, propped precariously against a half-empty mug of tea on the low table. 

His presence, as always, manages to fill the room, though this time there’s a palpable tension in the air since you opened the game. His initial greeting had all the warmth of a parent catching their kid sneaking in past curfew. The moment his image blinked into view, you could see the battle in his eyes.

On one end, he simmered with ire, almost ready to boil over. On the other, he looked like he’d gladly claw his way out the screen just to tuck you into bed and personally force-feed you the food you’ve been ignoring for the past forty minutes.

“Eat it,” he grouses, a hint of steel sharpening his deceptively calm tone. The worry beneath it feels like it could strangle you. 

(And if it could, it probably would—if he has any say in it.)

You whine, burrowing deeper under the blanket, folding yourself into a sad, uncooperative ball on the couch. “I will. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” he echoes, the incredulity clear in his voice. “Do you plan on eating it soon as it becomes inedible, or is this a test of endurance?”

With a sigh that feels like it’s pulled from the depths of your soul, you poke halfheartedly at the lid. The smell of grease and fried food wafts out, making your stomach churn. Whether it’s from nausea or hunger pangs, you can’t tell.

“It smells like regret,” you mutter, swallowing the lump rising from your esophagus. 

Sylus snorts, and you can tell it slipped out before he could stop it. “Considering the state you’re in? Can’t say I’m surprised. But you still need to eat, kitten. You can’t run on stubbornness alone.”

“I’m doing fine so far,” you argue weakly, knowing you’re not convincing anyone. Your body feels like it’s been put through the wringer—limbs heavy, muscles crying in protest, a pounding headache that refuses to let up.

“Fine,” he repeats, dry as ash. “You can barely hold yourself up, but sure, let’s call that fine.”

You finally flip the box open, revealing a mess of something fried and vaguely brown. The smell hits you harder this time, and you salivate something odd. “I don’t think—”

“Eat,” he cuts you off, voice firm, brooking no argument. “You’ve done well with the tea, but now you need something to fill you up.”

“I can think of something else I’d like to fill me up,” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

A beat of silence, and then Sylus’ tone shifts—a touch amused now, but it’s edged with a deliberate weight that makes your skin prickle. Uh-oh. 

“Sweetie,” he says slowly, almost indulgent, “if you’ve got the energy to make jokes like that, you’ve got the energy to eat. Be good, and I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded once you’re feeling better.”

You laugh, breathless, trying to mask your nervousness from the subtle innuendo. Obediently, you pick up the plastic spork beside the carton. “You’re really selling this hard, huh.”

“I’m not here to sell it,” he sighs, voice losing its edge, but there’s still a firmness to it. “I’m here to make sure you don’t pass out. One bite. Start there.”

You spear a piece of shrimp hesitantly. It looks harmless enough, but you lift it like it might bite back. 

You take the tiniest nibble. 

It’s greasy, salty, and absolutely meh—but it doesn’t immediately trigger your gag reflex, which in itself feels like a small victory. 

“There,” he says, his satisfaction palpable. “See? You survived.”

“Barely,” you shoot back half-heartedly, though the corner of your mouth twitches.

“I’ll make sure to congratulate you later for your heroic recovery,” he says wryly. “Now another bite, sweetheart.”

You make a reluctant noise but comply, munching slowly. He hums in approval. When you glance at the screen, his expression has mellowed—the severity giving way to something almost tender.

You look away quickly, swallowing hard; though you're not sure if it’s because of the tiny morsel of food or from the heavier something that's lodged in your throat.

The sound of your chewing is slightly amplified by the silence that comes after. You’re afraid to break it first. 

So Sylus does it for you. Once he’s decided you’ve had your fill of the fried rice.

“Would you like to talk about last night?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “What about last night?” 

A long pause. 

“We don’t have to,” he says quietly. “I’m just saying that if you want to, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You press your lips together, unsure of how to answer. There’s discomfort; the unease brought by your own self-consciousness. 

“I—uh—” You start, fumbling for the right words. “I didn’t mean to… make things weird or anything. I don't usually get that wasted,” You sigh, blowing a stray hair out of your face. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” 

“The only thing you did wrong last night was ignore my messages,” Sylus murmurs, his tone a little admonishing. “Making me worry about your well-being.”

You glance up, catching the affection in his eyes. He gives you a slight smile, relieved to finally have your attention fully on him.

You scrunch the blanket in your fist, fiddling with a loose string. You want to say something. Anything. But you can’t seem to summon the courage. 

Finally—

“You don’t think…” you hesitate, voice small. “You don’t think it’s– that I’m… too much trouble?”

He tuts softly, the sound playful, with hints of something fond. Comforting, almost. So you hold his gaze, even if it’s a little harder than you’d like it to be.

Sylus looks at you with something so… endearing that it’s almost painful. “You’re perfect. My little troublemaker,” his eyes burn a little brighter. “Mine.”

The words hit you like a wave—soothing, gratifying. Staggering.

Oh, you want to believe him. You want to lose yourself in his words, to give in to the feeling of being cherished, of being seen. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything as much as this. 

But turmoil wages a war inside you, and you’re stuck between the pull to let yourself believe and the sharp reality of your situation.

The futility of it all.

It makes you hurt, deep inside, in a way you don’t know how to fix.

––––

The package you got from the lobby is nondescript. Unassuming. The kind of box that could contain anything from kitchenware to – you don’t know, maybe a desk lamp? You turn it over in your hands, squinting at the lack of clues of its content and its sender. 

Did you order something and forgot?

Payroll was over a week ago, and you’re aware of your irresponsible tendency to pile everything that catches your eye onto an online shopping cart just to tempt yourself into buying shit you don’t need, but you’re pretty sure you’d remember spending money on… whatever this is. 

It’s not until you’re back in the privacy of your apartment, scissors in hand, that the mystery begins—and promptly ends.

The contents spill out, leaving you to blink owlishly at the mess of shredded wrapping paper and its pièce de résistance: a nine-inch monstrosity of a dildo, hot red in color. 

The… thing is practically a weapon, its twisting ridges and intimidating girth looking more like something you’d need a user manual for. Or a fucking exorcist, you distantly think in rising panic. 

“Uhh…” The sound tumbles out, an embarrassing mix of confused and gobsmacked. “I don’t remember—?”

Ping!

Your phone chimes before you can finish, and you slowly turn your gaze towards the screen, a sinking feeling beginning to form in your gut.

The message is short. And oh-so-smug.

Ah. Just in time. 

The realization dawns on you, and your cheeks burn hot enough to fry an egg. “Sylus!”

What? Even in text, his tone carries that infuriating slyness you can practically hear from a mile away. You’ve earned it.

Your mouth works uselessly for a moment before words could spill out, clumsy and agitated. “Earned what?!” 

A little treat for being such an obedient little thing while you were recovering, remember?

“Holy shit,” you wheeze. A half-hysterical giggle bubbles up your throat as you hold the draconic cock far from you as if it’s gonna attack at any second. Fuck, it might. “This is almost as big as my forearm! The hell am I supposed to do with this?”

What do I expect you to do with it? Sylus’s reply comes almost instantly, the weight of his insinuation almost coming across as mocking. I thought that was obvious.

You didn’t think your face could go any redder, and you’re sure you resemble a fucking tomato right at that moment. “Sy-Sy, this is—” You gulp, glancing at the toy with wide eyes. “fucking massive. It–it has… it’s got scales!”

Ah, so you’ve noticed the craftsmanship. Quite exquisite, isn’t it?

“E-Exquisite?” you sputter, voice soaring at a higher octave. “This looks like it came out of Alien or something! I’m pretty sure it’s gonna start moving on its own…”

Only if you press a button.

Your brain short-circuits, and you frantically examine the thing for telltale signs of any hidden mechanization.

There’s a short lull, laden with barely restrained amusement. Then: Relax, sweetheart. It’s not going to bite.

You let out another – nervous – laugh, gingerly setting the large toy down as if it might explode from its sheer audacity. “I hate you.” 

No, you don’t, Sylus counters without missing a beat. But I do appreciate how flustered you’re getting. Go on, sweet thing—tell me how it’s too much for you. I could listen to that all night.

You let out a strangled noise, burying your face in your hands. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”

Mmh, you know me so well. 

You sigh, the gravity of what’s inevitable setting in. It was like fighting a losing battle. 

Something the both of you knew right from the start.

-

-

-

(You are my angel)

“I-It hurts to put in,” you whimper, body trembling as sweat clings to your flushed skin. Every muscle feels taut, coiled tight with both anticipation and a flicker of fear. “p-please…” 

“We have the rest of the night, little dove. We’ll take it slow,” Sylus whispers, his voice a velvet caress in your ear, warm and grounding. “I’m right here.”

His words melt into you like cloying liquid, wrapping around your resolve like a sensual embrace.

(Come from way above)

“Again.”

“I-I can’t,” you sniffle, the words breaking into short, shaky gasps as your chest heaves. The remnants of your last orgasm still ripple through you, the one he’s ripped from you mercilessly.  

“You can, poppet,” he coos, the endearment sliding over you like cool mercury. “Give me one more, yeah? Want to see those pretty eyes rolling for me.”

The thought alone has you shivering, his tone dripping with enough heat to stir something molten from within you.

(To bring me love)

The air hangs unbearably hot, almost suffocating. Every nerve sings, alive with the memory of his ministrations—though he’s never truly touched you, has he? 

It doesn’t matter. The line between what’s real and what’s not blurs further with every passing moment.

Your body burns, and yet you crave more, more—the pulsing ache of your stretched walls only feeding the gnawing hunger that builds inside, like an unrestrained beast. 

You blink sluggishly; your vision swimming as pleasure courses through you in heavy, dizzying surges.

Has he bewitched you? You’ve become insatiable, ravenous—monstrous in your desire. For him. For the addicting high only he could give, and teasingly dangle just out of reach. 

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

How…? He’s nothing but a voice, incorporeal, yet he commands you completely. Your hands, your movements, your very breath feels as if it belongs to him. They follow his instructions without hesitation, carving paths of fire and electricity across the bare expanse of your skin.

“More?” Sylus rasps, and the edge in his voice sends a thrill down your spine. There’s something feral in his tone, and it brings you an almost animalistic sense of glee to know that he isn’t unaffected by all of this any less than you are. 

“More,” you beg, raw and needy. He groans in response.

“Good, so good for me,” he hisses a litany of praise that sounds so much like a curse. “My good girl. Mine to break, mine to ruin.”  

Your back arches as you cry out; muscles locking, mouth falling open in a soundless scream as both agony and ecstasy crash over you like a tidal wave.

(Love you, love you, love you, love you Love you, lo–ve you, love you, love you … Love you, love you—love you, love you…)

––––

"My cousin's getting married tomorrow."

You say it with an air of nonchalance, your voice light, as if you’re just commenting on the weather.

Sylus doesn’t respond right away. His usual quick wit is conspicuously absent, replaced by a silence that stretches long, settling into the room like a beam of sunlight from your window. The continuous whirr of the electric fan and the droning of the news anchor on TV fill the space instead, in place of conversation.

You don’t force it. Instead, you wait patiently until it bends under its own weight and breaks.

After what feels like minutes, his voice cuts through the quiet; neutral and impassive. "Where's it happening?"

"A little chapel in Downtown Orlando, near Lake Lucerne. Nothing fancy. They’re keeping it small."

He nods, his gaze distant. Somewhere you can’t follow. "Just close family?"

"Yeah," you murmur, your fingers absently tugging at the fraying hem of your cardigan. "And a few friends. My mom’s going, along with her new husband. They sent me photos of the setup earlier—it’s pretty."

Sylus hums. “Would you have gone, if it weren’t so far away?”

“Yeah,” you answer automatically. “Yeah, ‘course. But I’m here, and they’re there. So I could only send my regards.”

Maru pads into the room, brushing against your leg before bumping his head insistently against your shin. You scoop him up, ignoring his soft meows of protest, and cradle him in your lap.

“She’s been planning it for months,” you continue, scratching behind soft cat ears. “Way before she got engaged. She’s one of those people who just… knows. Knows what she wants, knows how to get there. All mapped out, down to the finer details.”

In the corner of your eye, you see a faint smile ghosting his lips. It doesn’t reach his eyes. "What a luxury,” he remarks, almost wistfully. "To pave your life so easily, just like that."

There’s something unspoken behind his words, something heavier than a passing comment. 

"Do you think about it?" His question startles you—not just its suddenness but the way his gaze locks onto yours, intent and searching, like he’s trying to read the answer in your face before you could even utter a word.

You blink. "... About what?"

"Marriage."

You hesitate. The question feels delicate, like a soap bubble floating in the air, fragile enough to burst at the slightest touch. "Sometimes," you admit. "But not like she does. It's always been more of an abstract idea, I guess."

He doesn’t speak. 

"I don’t know," you say softly, “if it’s something I could ever want. Or if it’s even meant for me."

Your voice falters, and the rest is left unsaid, though it lingers between the spaces untouched. 

I don’t think about it, no. Not if… if it’s not with—

You stop yourself before the thought takes flight, tampering it back down.

Sylus leans back, his gaze flickering away. "It’s a commitment," he says eventually. "One that requires a lot of thought. I understand."

He doesn’t elaborate, and for a moment, you almost consider leaving it there. But something in you—persistent, prying—urges you to press just a little further.

"What about you? Have you thought about it?"

There’s an imperceptible shift in his expression; the faintest furrow between his brows, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Perhaps not in the way you're thinking," he says quietly, almost to himself. "Sometimes I wonder what it means. For someone like me." He hesitates, glancing at you, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in those deep pools of red. “For…” 

His words hang unfinished; you feel its hollowness pushing down on you, as though they bore meaning neither of you can bring yourself to name.

You feel it settle in your chest, vacant and aching, like an absence of something. Gone before it even began.

––––

It dawns on you on a regular Saturday evening, as you're (clumsily) peeling potatoes for dinner, and Sylus is dutifully recounting the events of his day to you like your very own talk show host on late night cable.

It creeps up at you—not in an explosive burst of clarity, no. No fanfare, no earth-shattering epiphany. It’s quieter than that, like the tides under the moon, rising unnoticed until you’re already ankle-deep.

Maybe it’s always been there, tucked into the corners of your mind, hidden in the spaces between the teasing banter and the way he watches you when he thinks you’re unaware. A whisper that you refused to acknowledge, too afraid of what it would bring.

You must have known, even then. Right from the start.

From the way it feels when he says your name—softly, reverently, like it’s a privilege to utter it so freely.

From the way you ache when he waits for you to finish a thought, as though every word you speak is something worth treasuring. 

And it’s in the way he knows you better than you understand yourself, filling your silences with meaning so you don’t have to. 

You love him. 

You know how this ends.

––––

Coming down from a mind-numbing high is always an experience, a short state of nirvana; this time no different from the rest. 

For a fleeting moment, everything feels infinite—a small eternity suspended in pleasure. Petite mort.

But then reality hits you once again, and the pleasure vanishes like smoke. 

It leaves you feeling utterly spent. Empty. The silence crashes back in like a tsunami, heavier than before. The stillness wraps around you like a suffocating shroud. 

The sound of your shallow breathing, the oppressive white noise, the distant hum of the city from outside your window… These are your only source of life. There’s no warm touch to ground you. No arms to pull you close. No sweet nothings to piece you back together. Just this. Just you.

You had known. You always knew. 

This was it—the price of wanting something you were never meant to have. For surrendering yourself to something that exists only in fragments and pixels, bound by lines of code and a screen you can’t cross. You delude yourself into thinking it’s worth it, that these fleeting moments of bliss outweigh the quiet wake of devastation it leaves behind, every time. 

And yet—

A choked sob breaks past your lips, shattering the silence. It tears out of you like something primal, something you can’t control. 

Your body folds in on itself, naked and trembling, your arms banding across your stomach like you’re trying to hold something broken together. The sheets beneath you feel clammy, disgusting, but you pull them tighter anyway, desperate for something to hold on to.

It hurts all the same. 

“Talk to me,” Sylus whispers urgently. There’s something jagged and desperate about it. “Please. Tell me how to make it better.”

How could you? 

What words could bridge this chasm between you? How do you explain a hurt so uniquely yours, so tied to the fragile intricacies of a body he doesn’t have, of feelings that leads to nowhere? 

How do you describe the way it breaks you, knowing that he’s oh-so close, yet still—yet always—out of reach?

How do you describe the weight of being too human in moments like this?

You press your forehead to your knees, heart in your throat. You don’t know how to make him understand.

“I can’t,” you whisper into your knees, voice cracking under the weight of what’s left unsaid. 

-

-

-

The next morning arrives with the muted glow of daylight filtering through the blinds, but it does nothing to lift the oppressive tension in the room. You don’t mention last night. You don’t even glance at the lit phone screen.

Sylus doesn’t bring it up either—not directly. But you feel him. The weight of his attention clings to the edges of the silence you’ve imposed, like static crackling just beneath the surface.

You keep moving. It doesn’t matter how; you make yourself busy. Work has never been more engrossing as it does at that very moment, and you hurl yourself into the thrilling world of emails, spreadsheets, and Teams meetings like you’re vying for the spot as best employee of the month. 

His impatience is impossible to ignore. It presses against you, insistent, like a gasp of breath waiting to be released. But you don’t give him the chance.

At some point, his voice drifts from the speakers, low and clipped, but careful; as if he’s reigning in his emotions, afraid to scare you further away.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

Your fingers hover the keyboard. For a moment, the mouse cursor taunts you, as if it's also impatiently waiting for an answer.

Sylus thinks the silence you leave him suspended in is deliberate, even cruel.

He doesn’t push, not immediately. You hear the faint noise of the game’s background music, the tinkling piano keys, a reminder of his presence. 

When he speaks again, his tone is softer, laced with something almost… pleading. The change in his tone doesn’t ease the tension; it makes it worse.

“I can’t help if you shut me out, my heart.”

Still, you offer nothing.

The air feels brittle, stretched too thin, like glass just before it shatters. You can almost hear the first cracks forming, spidering between the two of you.

He doesn’t speak again. 

The day drags on in an uneasy rhythm. You move through the hours like a ghost, and Sylus remains silent. But the quietness pulses with disconcertment; a build up without release. The quiet isn’t peaceful. It’s the kind that crackles like a frayed wire. It collides with your refusal to confront it.

And so it goes: you avoid, he waits, and the distance between you grows.

––––

You’re at a crosswalk on the 4-A highway intersection, surrounded by a sea of pedestrians, the incessant hum of the metropolis vibrating beneath your feet as if the very ground you walk on is alive. 

The moment your gaze lands on a couple just ahead of you, everything seems to quiet down, like a fuzzy FM radio station on mute. You see them, caught in their own little world, oblivious to the noise and rush of the city. 

The woman’s laughter is light—happy. Her hand in his, secure and relaxed. The way she looks at him… it’s familiar, almost. Something you recognize.

The man beside her moves with a subtle grace. His presence is undeniable, but it’s the way he watches her, something soft and devout in his gaze, that draws you in. He’s tall, his sharp features and posture elegant—and somehow, it fits perfectly beside the smaller figure pulling him effortlessly against the throng of people. 

Without warning, the unnamed man’s features shift into something more distinct, and the woman turns into the reflection you see every day in the mirror.

It’s not the couple before you that you see anymore—it’s you, against Sylus’ chest, his silvery-white hair stark against the dark fabric of his clothes. You imagine his red eyes, those sharp features, the quiet strength of his presence wrapping around you, like it’s where you belong.

You're lost in the fantasy—the way it could be, if the two of you existed in the same world, side by side. His hand around your waist, the shared intimacy, the profound joy. Just the two of you against all odds.

A smile starts to tug at the corners of your lips, but before it can fully settle, the harsh blare of a car horn shatters the illusion.

The world rushes back around you. A teen bumps into your shoulder, pushing you forward. The vision of them—of him���dissolves, leaving you in the busy street, once again just another face in the crowd.

––––

Everything falls apart one afternoon.

You confront Sylus, words spilling out before you can stop them. You don’t know what drives you—bravery, desperation, or maybe the crushing weight of hopelessness that has finally stripped you of your fear.

“How’s she?”

His brows furrow. “Who?” He looks genuinely thrown, and for a second, you wish you could take the words back. 

When you finally say her name, his expression shifts. It’s quick—a flicker of something you couldn’t catch before he schools his features again. 

“Why do you ask?” There’s an undercurrent to his voice now, his tone wary, eyes searching yours. “I try to avoid any interactions with her if it’s not needed.”

He pauses; then his gaze softens, though there’s still a guardedness to it. “Are you… worried?”

You shake your head, frustrated with yourself, with him, with all of it. “It’s not—It’s not that.” You don’t know how to put it into words.

How can you explain the knot in your chest? The envy—not for reasons he thinks… or maybe for exactly those reasons. Maybe he knows. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at you like that, imploring and cautious at the same time.

“You have her,” you finally say, and the words fall flat, bitter on your tongue.

Sylus’ eyes flash, sharp and unyielding. “And you and I both know who I’d rather have.”

Now, isn’t that the crux of it all?

Your throat closes up, a hard lump that you can’t swallow down. “I don’t know how you could,” you manage, though it rings hollow in the dead air. 

“Don’t.” His voice is harsh now, rougher than you’re used to. Frustration bleeds through his usual composure. “Don’t act like you don’t feel it.”

You bite your lip, your gaze darting away. He calls your name, and there’s something raw in the way he says it, like it costs him something just to say aloud.

You choke out a laugh that sounds more of a sob than anything. “I don’t know where to go from here. It was fun at first, but now… It’s just sad.”

He frowns, and for a moment, there’s a boyishness to the expression, an innocence to his vulnerability. It stirs something deep in your chest. 

He opens his mouth, no doubt ready to ask why—why now, why this? Why are you unraveling in front of him, like this? 

But you don’t give him the chance.

“I love you, Sylus.” You admit, barely above a whisper. The words fall heavy between you, a confession and a wound all at once.

Sylus stills. 

The silence fills the room, but his eyes—those soft crimson—speak volumes. His jaw tightens, hands clench into fists, but there’s no real surprise in his face. He’s always known.

“I know,” he tells you. 

There’s something ancient in the timbre of his voice, like it’s been torn from the deepest part of him. And for a moment, neither of you moves.

_

He feels it—the way you’re slipping through his fingers. Every word you say feels like a step away, less of a standstill, more a surrender, and he… he’s never felt more powerless than he does in this moment.

(And isn’t that just grand? You’ve always had this uncanny ability to make him feel things he’s never felt before. He just wishes it wasn’t like this—wishes it wasn’t slipping into something he can’t hold onto.)

He doesn’t know what to say or do, doesn’t know what could possibly alter the trajectory you’re both hurtling towards. But the thought of losing this, of losing you, is unimaginable.

“I love you,” he says, rough and uneven, like the admission physically hurts. “In ways that terrify me. Do you understand?”

Your eyes widen, and he sees it—the flicker of hope. Fragile and fleeting, but there. Your gazes lock, and the world stops. 

For a moment, there’s no sound, no movement—just the two of you standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying.

“I want—” His voice cracks, infinitesimally, but it echoes in the void between you. “I want to hold you. To wake up next to you. To touch you in all the ways that matter, not just in words and binary. I want to be what you need.” 

You know what’s coming. 

“But—”

The word lingers.

“But you can’t,” you whisper, finishing what he couldn’t.

Sylus looks at you, his red eyes burning with an intensity that feels heartbreakingly human.

You’ve reached another impasse, and it feels like the final one. The air between you is thick with words unspoken, promises that can’t be made. It’s not anger that lingers, nor is it blame. It’s something quieter. More agonizing.

A resignation.

And yet, even in this fragile moment, a piece of you—of both of you—refuses to let go. To what could be, to what never will.

––––

Your mom’s voice rings bright through Facetime, a faint blur of words as she gives you the rundown of the events from your cousin’s wedding. The dress (An elegant Oscar de la Renta boat neck), the cake (A three-tier red velvet, a little on the sweeter side), and the vows (“Oh, you would’ve cried, honey!”).  

You try to listen, but your attention keeps drifting away. She notices, of course. 

“You seem more preoccupied lately, dear. Boy troubles?”

It’s a simple question, but it lands differently. Her voice is too light, too casual, like she’s asking if you’re still eating your vegetables. 

She doesn’t seem to acknowledge how far the distance has grown between you, how many years have passed where you stopped expecting her to understand. You’ve wanted her to notice, to see the parts of you she never asked about. The changes in you, whether small or monumental. But she never did. And you stopped waiting.

You chuckle tiredly. 

“Yeah, mom. Boy troubles.” 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @slyfoxtsu @tinyweebsstuff @i2sannie @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim

[jullbnt]

Thank you!! That cake sounds amazing! I ate way too much during the holidays and I don't regret anything haha

As an OoT fan I enjoy my share of tragedy, but I have come to associate SS with canon happy Zelink and I really want it to stay that way ^^

I also feel like such a sad ending doesn't really fit in SS. In OoT for example the tragic ending feels earned because the entire game revolves around this idea that "the flow of time is always cruel" and Link and Zelda are carrying the guilt of letting Ganon into the Sacred Realm. This isn't present in SS in my opinion, and Zelda already makes her sacrifice by sealing herself for thousands of years. It also feels unfair that one Zelda would pay such a high price and not the other. But otherwise yes imagining this second Zelda watching Link leave with another version of herself is heartbreaking and would make a memorable ending!

Nayru could be the Goddess of Time, true! But she's already known as the Goddess of Wisdom and she created the fundamental laws of the world, which doesn't limit her to time. The way I see it Hylia inherited her time powers from Nayru, which lead to her being known as the Goddess of Time. And then it makes sense that the Goddesses would leave the Triforce in the hands of a deity who can foresee the future and plan accordingly. Other things to consider:

To me the Gate of Time looks more violet than blue, like Zelda's bracelets and hair accessories.

It can be activated by the Master Sword, a weapon created by the Goddess Hylia, and the Gates play a huge role in Hylia's plan.

Hylia speaks to Link "from the edge of time" according to Fi.

TotK Zelda is the Sage of Time and I believe OoT Zelda is as well.

OoT Zelda is also able to send OoT Link to a new timeline, which is a lot more than what Sages are usually able to do.

Hylia is known to create very complicated plans that involve time travel.

These are some of the reasons why I believe Hylia is the Goddess of Time, but Nayru makes sense as well. I just think it's a bit restrictive for her.

I know that was not your argument, I was just thinking while writing, sorry haha. I don't expect to get an explanation either, and I like being able to search for one myself!

Rauru making dad puns would be hilarious! I'm sure Link would answer with even worse puns 😆

Honestly I don't have very interesting ideas for Malon's mom, I never thought she was much of a mystery. I like the idea that Talon could have married a Gerudo (though I'm not sure they would suffer such a lazy husband 😅), but in my understanding the children of Gerudo are always Gerudo and can't be Hylians with red hair. But maybe that's just me, I'm not even sure that was ever confirmed. Otherwise I think Malon's mom probably was hard working, she could even be the one who founded the ranch (cause Talon doesn't seem that invested in it). He either inherited it or did what his wife wanted him to do in my opinion.

Oh a Rito using the Roc's Feather/Cape is such a fun idea! I'd love to see that 😆

Same for the Sheikah researchers! They could share their knowledge about technology with the other races and welcome new scientists.

Glad you like this idea!! I thought the towers wouldn't only be protected by Sheikah warriors but that the different races would cooperate. Like the Gerudo would protect their tower, same for the Gorons, and so on. And then Link could recruit new fighters and send them to any tower as the Yiga threat increases. Something like that.

If they ever do a sequel to the Wild games I hope it will be either what you described with sea travel and visiting other countries or an entirely rebuilt Hyrule. I think sea travel would be a bit much in my version, but it sure would be cool if Link could steal the pirate ship and start exploring.

You can go with brasserie or bar à vin! Bar à dégustation can work but I'd say it's not used as often as bar à vin. Vin à dégustation isn't something we would say though. I've also seen some restaurants call themselves "cave à manger" (but it's not widely used and I find it doesn't sound so nice), meaning that they're both a cave à vin and a place that serves food while a bar à vin isn't necessarily a restaurant.

You could also use the name of the place to convey what you're trying to say, like I would expect a place called "Restaurant/Brasserie du Vignoble" (vineyard) to serve local food paired with the wine produced there.

Thank you so much! I'll keep that in mind if I need help with something! :D

@aikoiya The post was getting too long so I’m replying here, hope that’s okay! If anyone is looking for the beginning of this discussion, it's here.

Your extended pantheon is amazing! I just knew that Gàlondo would end up being Demise haha. I'd say I prefer not to associate Demise with any race in particular (and the Gerudo already have quite a heavy burden with Ganondorf), but otherwise I like that backstory you came up with. So what's Hylia's role in your version then if he’s the guardian of the Triforce? I'm curious ^^

I'd say my reasoning isn't so much "I hate this" but rather "this doesn't make sense/contradicts something else" or "previous games did this better". I also want to show that it's still possible to create stories without ignoring everything that was established previously because to me this idea that the timeline is too restrictive doesn't stand. In fact I tend to believe being a bit restricted and working inside a frame can trigger more creativity (after all they did wild stuff like flooding Hyrule before and it fits perfectly in the timeline). I also would prefer to see the existing lore extended or clarified instead of them adding new confusing stuff and leaving it extremely vague.

Oh I LOVE your Outset Timeline!! Though the ending is indeed very bittersweet. It always makes me so happy when someone else points out the inconsistencies in Skyward Sword's story. That's exactly my reasoning for my fourth timeline, it exists because of Ghirahim and Link's victory over Demise in the distant past. Though you are right, adding a timeline split while keeping the Master Sword in the official timeline requires some gymnastics! At the moment I'm going with a lazy theory about the Sealed Temple being the future Temple of Time, so the Temple's magic somehow allows the Master Sword to exist in both timelines (I said it was lazy haha). Impa’s bracelet is another story though. In my timeline the Goddess Sword is also left untouched in Skyloft because Skyward Sword doesn't happen, which could be useful in case someone accidentally broke the actual Master Sword 😁 It's very intriguing to me that Sky left the sword in the past when he had no reason to (and it shouldn't even be possible since it's in the exact same spot as Zelda's crystal). It's probably just a mistake on Nintendo's part but I like to think there could be something else there, and that Fi had a reason to stay in the past.

About the DLC items the thing is that most sets are found in the Depths in random Zonai chests if I remember correctly, or in the coliseums, and there was no explanation as to how they got there. In Misko's little shrines we find the Fierce Deity set and the LA set, but also the barbarian armor, the shock-resistant outfit and the climbing gear. I can understand building shrines for the Fierce Deity or LA Link following what you said, but then for three random armor sets? Not to mention that Link already owned them in BotW, so making us look for them a second time was kind of a joke. I like this shintai/yorishiro idea, but I think it would work a lot better if there were only a few items to collect and not… the outfits of all the Links ever INCLUDING WILD'S (how!!). It feels really meaningless and more like a catalogue for you to choose from so you can look like your favorite Link (which is a bit insulting to Wild, you can just replace him at this point and go as far as changing his hair or even his entire appearance with the LA set). I also didn't really believe they were the actual items from past games, it made no sense (the same way Link wouldn't actually wear a red Nintendo Switch t-shirt or something from Xenoblade). It just really felt like fanservice.

The dictionary thing might help, but I think the story should be explicit enough on its own and I don't really want to study Buddhism/Shintoism in depth so that I can play Zelda games and understand what's happening haha. I mean of course it's fine if knowing a bit about it adds new context and all, but if you can't understand things like malice vs. gloom without it then I think it's a bit of a problem. Speaking of Fujibayashi I feel like this wasn't really an issue before he was in charge.

Yes the French translation for Demise is very misleading, that's another problem: depending on your language things are sometimes interpreted very differently.

I really like the English names for the three dragons, I think they're so much better than what we got in French. Nedrac, Ordrac and Rhordrac, really?? At first I didn't even understand the link with the Goddesses, and then the last two sound way too similar. Btw I remember from my very basic Japanese courses that it's common in Japanese to create new words by mixing a few syllables of other words together. For example "rimokon" means remote controller (remo + con), or there's the well known Pokemon = pocket monsters. So naturally we end up with stuff like Ordinn + dragon etc.

I thought as well about the dragons going by names given to them by mortals instead of their true names. The thing is, I don't really want to create new names because I'm already changing so many things and my timeline stuff can be a bit complicated, so I need to keep at least a few things familiar. And I really like Dinraal, Farosh and Naydra :D

I agree about Farore being more associated to wind and plants than thunder (I mean she's kind of Link's patron goddess and he has nothing to do with thunder). What's even more confusing in BotW/TotK is that the Gerudo are now also related to thunder for some reason, but they're definitely more Din than Farore in my mind.

Maybe I should give you some context about my dragons haha. The beginning of my story is quite similar to TotK, though I still made some changes. Ganondorf completely destroys the Master Sword, Link looses his arm (except here Rauru isn't there to replace it), and Zelda still travels through time (but not because of a Secret Stone since I got rid of everything Zonai). She arrives in ancient Hyrule one century after Sky killed Demise (because this is set in my alternate timeline), and she's stuck there so she needs to find a way back home. Before that she learns a lot about SS, the Triforce, the timeline split and Hyrule's past. After meeting various characters and most importantly Sonia (who's still a priestess, the Sage of Time and her ancestor), Zelda learns that this era has two Master Swords: the one left by Sky in the Sealed Temple, and the Goddess Sword that is still somewhere above the clouds. She understands then that she needs to retrieve the Goddess Sword in Skyloft and forge a second Master Sword in order to help her Link in the future, and to do so she needs the three Sacred Flames. Where are the flames? The dragons "swallowed" them since they weren't needed anymore after Sky left his own Master Sword, which turned them into the giant immortal dragons we see in BotW/TotK. So that's Zelda's quest: find a way to go to Skyloft and then get the dragons to lend her their power. Along the way she'll also meet the ancient Sages, who can help her return to her own time by using the Triforce (but of course this won't work because of Ganondorf, and Link will have to fight him in the present and bring her back himself).

I'm trying to make this both a story I could adapt in comic form and something that could work as a game. The idea is that Zelda's memories would be playable sequences with places to explore, fights and maybe even mini-dungeons and bosses. And of course there's an entire story for Link as well. At the moment I'm trying to come up with interesting arcs and quests for each race/Sage, both in the past and the present.

Anyway, that's why I'm so focused on the dragons. Zelda (and Link) will need their help and they will talk this time. And since they will remember being apointed by Hylia and they're supposed to absorb their respective sacred flames, I need things to make sense. This is also a timeline without climate change in Lanayru (here it's the same province as in BotW with the addition of Mount Lanayru and a good part of central Hyrule), so the thunder dragon has no business being up there. That's why the swap would make sense.

No need to apologise! I appreciate your perspective and that you're interested enough to share your own ideas! :D

I agree on Zelda's magic being her own and what you said makes sense! Love the part about her only thinking about how she's a failure (though I guess it's only natural if she's been trying for 10 years without result). I don't know if she would have had the same reaction had she witnessed her father's death though. AoC isn't canon but Zelda doesn't unlock her power when Rhoam "dies" in front of her and Link forces her to run. The memory where's she's crying in Link's arms in BotW also shows that she knows everyone is dead, it's even possible that she saw some of it happen (maybe in the same way as AoC for Rhoam, or they saw what happened to the Divine Beasts from afar). I guess they must also have seen some terrible things on the roads, so she could have unlocked her power trying to save her people. But it only happened when Link was about to die.

Haha yes, I'm probably one of the most obsessed Zelink shipper there is and even I can't stand that power of love trope. It really has no place in a LoZ game. In my headcanon Zelda wouldn't access her power only because of her love for Link, though it definitely helps, but rather because the Hero dying is kind of an emergency situation and would trigger her divine magic even if the necessary conditions were not met. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone but me though 😆

Yeah I'm okay with the women of the royal family having some sort of power though not as powerful as Zelda. I think some part of it could also be attributed to their Sage of Time abilities. And the gift of prophecy being inherited from Sky is such a cute idea!!

I don't know about Terrako, I only remember that Zelda built it when she was just a child?

I'd send you an ask to rant about TotK but I'm not sure about the character limit and I fear it would just turn into a second wall of text haha! Here are some thoughts:

– I could live with new lore that contradicts older games, if only things made sense and were sufficiently fleshed out. Then I could just enjoy the story and accept that this is a different continuity. But here everything is so vague and sometimes even confusing. Like if we're going to meet the Zonai and make them such central figures in Hyrule's history, then I want to know more about them and learn about their culture. What's the point if we're only going to see two of them and have no clue about how they created all that technology, mined the Depth, lived with the Hylians, and then disappeared? Same for ancient Hyrule: if the different tribes were at war, I want to see it, and I want to learn more about them. Ganondorf also had so much potential for an interesting backstory. What kind of king is he? How did the Gerudo feel about him becoming the Demon King? What about the Gerudo Sage? And so on. It feels like this could be so much more.

– Other things I would love to see explained: where is the Master Sword in ancient Hyrule and why does no one seem to know anything about it or the Hero? How does it travel through time to reach Zelda? What about Rauru and Sonia's descendants? Also what was the point of the fake Zelda, and why did Ganondorf stay in his bathtub the entire game instead of rehydrating himself right away and getting stuff done? There's also everything I said about the secret stones the other day, but I know you don't see it as a problem ^^ (Also I just rewatched the memories and I had completely forgotten what Rauru tells Zelda in front of Sonia's grave: "Remember, that was a future where you never appeared in this world". So does this mean this is a new timeline that kind of retcons BotW? If not then where did all the Sheikah tech go and how were the shrines replaced by the Zonai ones? I really need an explanation for all of that!!)

– The game also barely mentions what happened in BotW, except for the history class about the Calamity in Hateno, the statues in Zora's Domain, and the memorials left by Zelda to honor the dead. I wanted to see Hyrule starting to rebuild and to get some sort of follow-up on the story. Did Link regain all his memories? Was Zelda planning to take the throne? Does she have some sort of trauma after her century-long battle against Ganon at Hyrule Castle? Why does she react to Ganondorf's name, but doesn't link him to Calamity Ganon? Why did the Sheikah tech that was so central in BotW disappear, especially the Divine Beasts? I care about this world and its characters, I want it to feel like a real place and to see it evolve. But then stuff like this really reminds you that this is just a video game world, and that Nintendo doesn't really seem to care. And if things can be retconned any moment even in a direct sequel, then… why should I feel invested?

– There was a real waste of potential with the Light Dragon and Zelda just transforming back thanks to Rauru and Sonia (btw couldn't they have helped if they could appear anytime and still had that kind of power?). I find it so disappointing that Link doesn't have to do anything to help Zelda, it almost happens by accident. Mineru also said it was irreversible, but in the end it's no big deal (they shouldn't establish something and then ignore it like that). If only Link had to use the Triforce or something. I didn't want Zelda to stay a dragon but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been a better ending.

– It also really doesn't help that Link feels so disconnected from the main story. In BotW he was also experimenting the story through flashbacks but at least they were his own memories and they fleshed out his relationship with Zelda and the other Champions. Here Zelda is the one experimenting the best part of the story, and to make it worse you can find the memories in any order and get badly spoiled. It could have been so cool if Link also time traveled at some point and could explore ancient Hyrule (and they could have done something crazy like Link and Zelda being the ones to seal Ganondorf in the past, which would lead to his transformation into Calamity Ganon). Link is also so expressionless (except when cooking and all) that I find it hard to care when he doesn't seem to. Imagine how different Zelda sealing herself would feel in Skyward Sword if Sky didn't act so distraught. In the same way TotK would hit a lot harder if Link did stuff like falling to his knees after seeing Zelda's last memory.

– I also think that the hands/cooperation theme the devs talked about in interviews is a bit weak and cliché (with characters reminding Link and Rauru that they don't have to do things alone and that they're stronger together, stuff like that). First I don't find it very interesting compared to what games such as OoT, MM or Wind Waker did, and then Link being able to fight Ganondorf alone from the start kind of throws it out the window (and Rauru also ends up sealing Ganondorf on his own). The Sages are not even with Link outside of the dungeons, they just create creepy copies of themselves (and I found them so annoying I never activated them, except for Tulin when flying). But yeah sure they shake hands and vow to help Link. I still think him being accompanied by the Champion's spirits in BotW worked a lot better, and their powers were also more useful. I guess seeing everyone working together to rebuild Hyrule would have made that theme more meaningful. The thing I really liked about this though was Link finally catching Zelda in the end after failing at the beginning of the game, that was a really beautiful scene.

– Also I said it above but I don’t want everything to be explained by Buddhism/Shintoism parallels, especially if the game just expects you to get it without providing context. Let Hyrule be it’s own thing.

So I know this isn't only about lore, but these are the main reasons why I'm not very interested in TotK. To sum up I'd say that the game lacks some kind of depth and has a lot of wasted potential, and it also makes it clear that it's pointless to care about continuity. BotW Hyrule was interesting and I think a lot of things could have been done about existing races instead of adding a new one but not bothering to do much with it. Just bringing Ganondorf back in this version of Hyrule and see how the Gerudo react to him could be so interesting!! Some concepts were also excellent but didn't really go anywhere, like the Depths and the Sky Islands.

Honestly I haven't thought about all these side quests and minor characters yet, I'm still trying to sort things out with the main story ^^ But I don't think I'll touch the ones you mentioned, they were fine. I liked the thing with the Eighth Heroine as well, I've seen a lot of people complaining about it but it's one of the only things in the game I actually found interesting. I just can't unsee the parallel with Link and the Seven Sages (of course).

What I'll be doing for sure is making some of the quests and events more serious, I'm kind of aiming for a darker tone. Most of the quests are quite fun (especially the "potential princess sightings" ones), but I feel like this game really lacks some sense of danger and urgency. For example couldn't the people in Hateno have more pressing problems than making cheese or choosing between Cece and Reede? Or was it really a good idea to make lighthearted little quests about misanderstandings with Zelda when her disappearance should be driving Link mad? (I should have included that in my little rant above haha)

I'd also love to make the pirates in Lurelin something more interesting than just a bunch of Bokoblins, but I'm not there yet. And rebuilding the exact same village was kind of meh.

About the Gerudo questioning their traditions, I'm actually planning for my Ganondorf to be a lot more active and go to Gerudo Town in order to meet his people (I want him to care about them, so he wouldn't attack them the same way he targets the others). I don't have all the details yet but I'm pretty sure there will be a conflict between Riju's supporters and other Gerudo who believe he's their rightful ruler (at first they wouldn't know he's actually that one king who turned into Calamity Ganon). So that's another tradition for them to question.

The consequences of Ganondorf being the only Gerudo male are something I've been wondering about as well. Add to that the fact that he's raised to be king because he's male (and maybe even kind of worshiped by his people) and you get something that can turn nasty real quick. Though I also wonder if Gerudo aren't different from Hylians. You said you hc that the Gerudo are only women because they were cursed so it makes sense that you would view it this way, but on my part I believe that's just how they were created. For that reason I think this is natural for them, so it's possible that it doesn't cause exactly the same problems it would for us or for Hylians.

About Demise, yes of course Ganondorf is more than just Demise's hatred. But in this game it doesn't seem to matter, he kind of turns into a second Demise as soon as he gets his secret stone and his motivations instantly go from conquering/ruling to destroying everything and everyone. They could have done something a lot more nuanced or at least shown a more gradual transition, with him being more and more consumed by his hatred and loosing control for example. I don't know, anything that would look less like a comically caricatural villain riding a demon unicorn.

Also about Demise's curse, I always thought it sounded more like a warning than an actual curse, and I remember reading somewhere that this was the intention in the original Japanese text. In French Demise even says something like "you must never forget, history will repeat itself" instead of "I will rise again", and he and speaks of the curse of the demon tribe (implying that it existed before). Even in English it doesn't sound like Demise himself is casting a curse: "Those like you… Those who share the blood of the Goddess and the spirit of the Hero… They are eternally bound to this curse". He doesn't say "I curse you" or "I bound you to this curse". I feel like this makes a difference (the curse already exists). This is why I interpret it as him basically saying that evil will not die with him and that Link and Zelda/the Hylians as a whole will always have to fight the demon tribe, but not necessarily his reincarnation. So I don't even believe that Demise himself is influencing Ganondorf in any way.

About the Zonai Zelda explains she studied them at the beginning of TotK and recognizes what's depicted on the murals, so it seems strange that sky beings could get mixed with a tribe of barbarians living in the woods. But yeah history getting lost and mixed is the only explanation for this.

Oh you're completely right about the Mogma, I got the same vibe from them! And a Mogma mafia sounds hilarious ^^ I love the Rocktato, Link would definitely eat something like that 😆

I need to take some time to read through your master list, it all looks very promising!

[xitty]

Crash Fever's global server just closed. 😢😢😢 What, you say? And I don't blame you, I never see any one talk about this game.

I got into the game completely by accident. A few of characters got idol versions and they recorded songs to promote it and I came across a song sung by Zhuang Zi and Hui Shi's seiyuu: Shinnosuke Tachibana and Daisuke Namikawa respectively. And the cover art had the unit pic and it was cool and I wanted to know what this thing was. This is the unit btw, you can take one look at Zhuang Zi (the grey-haired one) and tell I might have a type.

So I found out it was a game and looked fun and it had English version, so I downloaded and kept playing it for a few years. And, I didn't know it when but turned out Hikaru Midorikawa voiced a character in it too, Cao Cao. He quickly became one of my favourites because he's funny with bombastic lines and always trying to conquer something, even summer festival stalls. I got bridegroom version early and he has been staple in my blue teams.

The premium currency shop was terribly expensive and I was F2P with one exception: when I had to get Cao Cao summer festival version (one of his lines is "That plushie is mine!" but he sounds more like Jiang Cheng than Eichi here, so it's funny):

The art style is so nice! Look-wise I really really love Newton (the units are named in various ways and the ones named after real or folklore/legend characters may or may not correspond to their real gender):

New Year Foucault is beautiful too:

And the game has insane amount of collaborations and they rerun too. For example, there has been multiple Vocaloid ones, Konosuba, That Time I Reincarnated as a Slime, Prisma Illya, Fire Force and Re:Zero. Bride Emilia unit. <3

Goodbye Crash Fever, you were fun. </3

[nothomegal]

"Kiss. Teach. Love!"

(Mr. Crawling x GN! Reader)

No way, NotHomeGal actually revived? Yup, I did. Homicipher brought me back to life from the depts of my creative burnout (o゜▽゜)o☆

This game really scratched a part of my brain I didn't know was there, but I'm not complaining!

And no, I won't be abandoning the slasher fandom, but I must say it will take some time to come back to write those right now, but I'll do my best to rekindle that spark!

Okay, enough of my yapping. Hope you enjoy this Oneshot (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: after learning that sometimes objects from the human world may fall into the realm you're currently stuck in, it became a common activity for you to scavenge around the junk to pass time, and your ghost companion always seems so curious about it!

Warnings: none really just fluff, Mr. Crawling being too cute for a mortal soul to handle.

Side note: yeah just like in most (basically all) of my fics, MC (or Y/N) will be Gender Neutral! So everyone gets to enjoy the story with their favorite ghost man :]

AND! Here's the link of the dictionary I used for the fic to put ghost words heheerhkj.

Word count: 3.6k

It's been so long, they think at least. Time feels stuck in place, yet in the deepest part of (Y/N)'s conscience they know it's not true, that the time and everything outside these lifeless concrete walls is very much alive.

Life goes on, it keeps moving regardless if they feel it or not, time is passing just like it always did... Yet, they feel stuck. Numb. It's like their mind and soul are slowly melting, becoming one with this dimension they begrudgingly started to call "home", even if it's not... This is not their real home!...

It's not!...

It's not...

It's not...?

—"☨ д つ 々?"— (Sad)

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips when suddenly something brushed against their leg as that soft voice spoke next to them, that "something" being the very long, dark hair of their ghost companion.

They turn their head, almost flinching at the sight of how close Mr. Crawling was to them. Shoot, sometimes they forget how unnerving his appearance is, especially when he creeps up on them like this, though unintentionally.

—"ત ટ д ☨ д つ 々?"— (You Sad)

He repeated the question, his usual smile now replaced with a small frown. His voice quiet and soft as always, but with that subtle quiver at the end that appeared whenever he's concerned.

(Y/N)'s breath almost hitched from that little but oh so sweet display of care. Even after all the time spent side by side with Mr. Crawling, they still periodically wonder what the hell did they do to deserve such kind perso... Ghost, in their life.

Before the entity's worry could grow, (Y/N) flashed him with a smile, shaking their head a little.

—"I'm alright, just a little distracted."—

Their answer did seem to soothe the ghost's worry a little. However, he leaned closer, more of his hair falling into (Y/N)'s body, sending small shiver through their form as the black locks brushed their legs, sensation that resembling a small breeze of air running across their skin. An odd, chilly feeling... But one that became very comforting and grounding for the human over the time, as it was like a gentle reminder of Mr. Crawling's presence, that they weren't alone.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ ? つ ત บ บ つ ኟ บ ટ ?"— (Not Bad Feel Not Scared)

Their smile faltered for a brief moment, knowing exactly what he was talking about...

Even if it's been quite a while since (Y/N) had one of those episodes of fear and hallucinations, the memories of them are still haunting the human in one way or another, leaving this uncomfortable sensation under their skin. It's like feeling hands, snaking all over their body, slowly slipping under their clothes, creeping through their skin and flesh, trying to dig deeper and deeper, right to their very core, trying to reach something so deep inside of them and rip it away from them...

Their essence?

Their soul?

T̵͉̗̒ḣ̴̻̱̂ȅ̷͓͘i̵̤͙̐͝ȑ̶͈̖̏ n̷̳̻̬̮̯̟̗̙̩̻̮͊͋̾́͐͌̏͒̿̏̆̑͜͠ä̴̢̧̡̦͕̻̙̻͕̳̟́̊͊̾̄̈́ḿ̵̡̢̛̜͉̗̗̞͖̟͈̬͈̻͍͌̋̓̐̅͘͠e̵͇̹͈̤͕̮̺͉͚͈͔̭͇̔-?

The human then simply hums, shaking off the heavy feeling off their mind. Their gaze soon focuses back on Mr. Crawling's face, their smile creeping back on their features, but now brighter, happier.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ . つ ત บ บ ጉ ሰ ટ נ."— (Not Bad Feel Not Together)

They replied cheerfully, confidently using the otherworldly language to make sure there is no room for doubts left.

Upon hearing their answer and seeing that smile he absolutely adored, Mr. Crawling himself smiles back, letting that characteristic high-pitched giggle of of his. And just like (Y/N) expected, the crawling ghost reached out and gently patted their head, ruffling their grayish hair a little.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

(Y/N) giggled as well, already used to Mr. Crawling's joyful chirps at whatever little thing they do. Once satisfied, the ghost slowly retires his hand from their head and leans back to his previous position right next to the human in a raincoat, his dark locks trailing behind and sliding off (Y/N)'s legs as he gives them a little bit of space.

They hum, that happy smile remaining on their lips, brightening a bit their bandage-covered face, returning some of color and life to it. The human soon shift their attention back to what they were previously up to, which was scavenging and going through all the junk and rumble that fell down here from the human world.

While (Y/N) is the one going through the numerous items, Mr. Crawling remained focused on them. Staying next to their crouched form and curiously watching the things they periodically picked up and inspected, sometimes even picking something himself and asking what it is and what humans do with it.

The activity was simple, but it was like a huge breath of air for (Y/N) and a great way to distract their mind from the decay this world was putting them through, helping them remember who they are and what are supposed to be. A human, an unfortunate human that found themselves in this place of absolute madness...

(Y/N)'s train of thoughts stopped when their eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of something bright and colorful under a small pile of old, messed news articles. And after carefully pushing aside all the trash, they get a clear sight of what it is.

A manga cover!

(Y/N)'s eyes widened and their smile grew as they reach out and grab the manga book, picking it up and instantly flipping through the pages.

—"No way, it's actually in good, readable condition!"—

They exclaimed excitedly, eyes wandering through the pages with interest.

Mr. Crawling simply observed, curiously watching them inspect the book. He noticed that (Y/N) would always get super excited whenever they saw one of these colorful pictures, and it made him happy to see them happy! As well as to keep a mental note to find more of these to make them even happier.

However, as the human paused on one of the pages, probably to check if the paper is holding up alright after getting a little wet. Something completely different caught the ghost's attention.

Slowly, Mr. Crawling reaches his hand again, pointing at a particular drawing with his finger while tilting his head to the side, like a confused puppy would.

—"נ บ ਦ ኟィд ⊔ ટ ৺ ㅗ?"— (What They Do)

He asked, gently tapping the picture with his finger.

(Y/N) glances at the spot their ghost companion is pointing at, their eyebrows rising slightly as they see an illustration of two of the characters kissing. Oh, did they just spoiled themselves one of the subplots?...

—"This?"—

They asks, eyes flickering between the comic and Mr. Crawling's face.

—"π々⊔ λ ک つ ત コ ጉ ک こ?"— (Why Touch Mouth)

The ghost asked again, genuine curiosity lingering in his quiet voice as he taps the paper again, his head turning to the side to look at (Y/N). Despite half of his face being covered by his dark hair, they could practically feel his curious stare, almost like a kid waiting for his parent to answer.

—"ک  ጉ ㄷ π π々⊔ ?"— (Teach Why)

He asks, now his attention completely casted on (Y/N), patiently waiting for their answer.

The mentioned human stays silent at fist, seemingly surprised the ghost actually doesn't know what a kiss is and why people do it. However, the more they think about it, the less he can blame Mr. Crawling. After all, this world is not built for affection, and considering all the dangers that lurk here on daily basis, it's not too surprising that some residents of this place don't even know what affection is.

—"Well. This is called a kiss, 'kiss'."—

They explain, pointing at their lips as they spell the word for him.

—"K- K̴̻̍-K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾-?"—

He attempts to repeat, though the sound comes more as a hiss rather than an actual word... Still, (Y/N) was proud of him for trying! And expresses such joy with a soft giggle.

—"Yeah, kiss. Uh..."—

They paused, thinking over their wording before continuing.

—"☨ บ п ป Kiss ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ."— (Human _ Desire Teach Love)

They finish, scratching their cheek with a sheepish smile, knowing that their explanation probably sounded wonky a weird, especially with that little mix between languages.

The ghost, makes a small "oh" sound, actually understanding their answer even with the odd wording.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling's face lightens in puppy-like joy as he leans closer, his face just inches away from the human's when he starts to chirp back.

—"ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Desire Teach Love)

(Y/N) raised their eyebrows at his words, their cheeks suddenly feeling a little warmer.

(Hold on, is he asking me for a kiss?!)

As flustered as they were, upon seeing that excited, happy smile of the ghost that they grew so attached to, they couldn't find the heart to tell him no even if their life depended on it. Beside, it's just a kiss, and they both like each other! So why not?

—"Eh... Hehehe. Okay, okay. You kiss like this."—

They answer, before suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips against the cold skin of his cheek.

A soft, quiet gasp escaped the ghost's lips, the difference in temperature between his and (Y/N) body never failing to make his chest feel all funny, though not unpleasant type of funny. But now with the added softness of their lips and the hot breath casted on his face, it created a sensation he haven't felt before.

The human leans back a little, chuckling under their breath at the ghost's reaction. However, their smile begin to fade when they notice how still he suddenly got.

They go silent, patiently waiting for Mr. Crawling to say or do something, but he remained perfectly still and dead silent, like some kind of creepy statue. Did they just cross some boundary they didn't know about?...

—"Mr. Crawling?..."— you ask eventually, voice quiet. —"Are you alright? Did I-..."—

(Y/N) paused when he finally does move, slowly lifting his hand from the opened manga book and brushing his fingers against his cheek, right on the spot they kissed him a second ago.

Suddenly, another high-pitched giggle escaped the ghost as he immediately launches forward, forcing (Y/N) back and basically tackling them to the ground into that famous overzealous hug of his they came to secretly adore.

—"K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ ! K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ !"—

He cheerfully exclaims with his broken human speech, before mimicking (Y/N)'s action and pressing his lips against their cheek. Though, more than an kiss his gesture resembled a nuzzle, like big dog gently bumping his favorite person with his nose.

—"৺ ጉ נ ⊔ λ ત д ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Me Want to Teach Love)

(Y/N) just couldn't help but laugh at the sweet action of the ghost, their cheeks turning much redder and warmer than before. With their hands no longer being occupied by the manga book, they reach and rest their hands on Mr. Crawling's back, basically hugging him back as the entity continues to joyfully express his liking through the newfound gesture.

—"You're doing it pretty good! But this is not exactly a kiss..."—

They eventually say, sliding their hands from his back and instead resting them on his shoulders. At the sound of their voice, Mr. Crawling's affectionate nuzzles pause and leans back, tilting his head to the side with curiosity.

—"Yeah, you need to press your lips, not caress with them. Ehm..."—

They fall silent, their gaze adverting for a brief moment as they try to find the needed words to describe what they're trying to say, but all they get is a reminder of how poor and limited the ghost vocabulary is...

Mr. Crawling remained quiet, patiently waiting for (Y/N) to figure out their wording. He didn't mind the wait at all to be honest, patience being one of his biggest virtues after all. Beside, seeing the human mumble and emit noises under their breath while making funny faces, such as pushing their lips or furrowing their brows, was a very cute sight to witness!

When realized that words, human or not, won't cut it. (Y/N) decided to use actions instead, as their head was starting to hurt at this point from this damn language barrier. So, with a soft sigh their eyes flicker back at Mr. Crawling, who was still patiently waiting for them to figure out their wording, or maybe taking the chance to look and admire their face, or maybe both...

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ત ટ д Kiss."— (Me Teach You)

They finally said, a hint of determination in their tone, though it was mostly directed to (Y/N) as they try to push through their own sudden rush of shyness and fluster. How comes they can be all giggly and cuddly when Mr. Crawling literally tackles them, but then turn into a blushing mess from a little kiss?! Ugh, even they start to make less sense the more they stay in this world...

At their words, the ghost seemed almost ecstatic. He already was eager to get any sort of attention from (Y/N), let alone affection. So the mere thought of feeling their lips pressed against his skin again made his whole body almost shake.

(Y/N) could feel the ghost's body grow tense from the overwhelming joy, and it was such a strangely endearing sight to witness; an otherworldly entity acting like an overjoyed puppy about to receive his favorite treat.

They giggle again, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before speaking.

—"Okay hehe... Eeh... Look, you kiss like this, 々ኟп৺."— (Look)

They say before leaning closer, the distance between their and Mr. Crawling's face growing smaller and smaller, until their lips finally come in contact with the ghost's other cheek.

They can feel him shiver, clearly still not used to the new sensation, but he was definitely loving it judging by the way his long arms slightly closed around their body, almost hugging them and pressing their smaller form against his taller one.

(Y/N) leans back a tiny bit, taking the chance to simply look at the entity who was holding them in it's embrace so tenderly. Of course, this is not the first, nor last, time they'll be held by Mr. Crawling. But... Right now, there's something different, they feel different. Their heart is pounding like crazy, yes. But they no longer feel flustered or embarrassed, they feel strangely in peace in fact.

There's always been something captivating about the crawling ghost, even with his unnerving traces. The way his long, black hair surrounds them, a void that's isolating both from the outside world, covering them like a veil, making each the protagonist of the other's gaze. For a monster-filled place like this, the moment felt almost romantic.

The human let a soft exhale, their lips parting ever so slightly. And before their brain could even realize it, (Y/N) was already leaning forward again.

They don't know what came over them, but their mind, their heart, and even that little voice was telling them the same thing...

{Do it.)

They press their lips again, this time against the tip of his nose, getting one of these little "eh" sounds out of him.

They didn't stop there however, instead starting to pepper the ghost's face with more kisses. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw...

(Y/N)'s movements were slow and delicate, keeping in mind the comfort of their otherworldly companion as they shower him with this new, intimate affection. They weren't quite sure what he was thinking about all of this, if he was getting overwhelmed or not, if he truly enjoyed or understood how much this moment meant for humans... But by how his arms seem to close more around their smaller form, how his fingers flex around the fabric of their raincoat, how his body seemed to gradually relax and even lean into the new, loving gesture...

Yeah, they knew he understood.

However, as (Y/N) was about to reach his lips, an inexplicable wave of hesitation came all over them, freezing them in place and incapacitating from moving back of forward, their heartbeat getting surprisingly, almost painfully loud.

(What's going on?)

(Why am I feeling so... Self-conscious?)

(No... No. I want to do it, I need to do it! Come on body, move! Move god damnit!)

They screamed inside of their mind, yet their body still refused to move, regardless of all the mental berating they were putting themselves through. Their grip on Mr. Crawling's shoulder tightened a little, like a silent attempt to ground themselves and remember just how close the ghost was, how he was waiting for them to continue, how he was waiting for them. But... They... They just couldn't move.

However, after a few beats of silence and inactivity had passed, is Mr. Crawling the one to finally break the tension and lean forward, his cold lips pressing against the warm ones of the human.

And just like that, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away in (Y/N), and everything felt alright again. No, more than alright. This felt perfect, intimate, sweet, and surprisingly innocent. Holding nothing but the affection, care and love the two beings felt for one another, now in it's purest way.

A human.

And a ghost.

Together, connected to each other not just in a physical way, but now in a deep, emotional way...

The kiss itself probably didn't last even 10 seconds, but in (Y/N)'s and Mr. Crawling's mind it felt like two eternities had passed, and many more would if they'd decided to keep going.

After breaking the kiss, the two just stay like this for a while, looking at each other as their minds clear from the haze and feeling of drunkenness the sweet exchange left behind. Mr. Crawling still on top of (Y/N), but instead of just hovering over them like he always did, now his arms were tightly wrapped around their frame, keeping them securely in place right between the ground and his body.

(Y/N) couldn't explain it, but right now they feel like they're falling again for the ghost. Just by being held in his embrace and hidden underneath his larger body, they felt so safe and at peace... So...

It's like they were home.

Their home...

He became their home, their safe place, their happy place...

Him...

—"λ ک ሰ ৺ ટ ?"— (Are you okay)

Mr. Crawling suddenly asked, his smile faltering as his embrace on them tightens a little. It was almost like he was concerned he did something wrong and broke them, what a sweetheart.

(Y/N) blinked, noticing they were probably staring and zoning out with this little realization of theirs, realization that their real home was not in this or their world.

It was with Mr. Crawling.

Or at least, that's what their heart told them.

—"I'm fine."—

The human said in a soft voice. Their body leaning forward while speaking, snuggling closer to the ghost's chest, the action feeling like a little dejavu to the time he hid them from the man in red.

Ugh... The sole mention of that guy is still sending shivers through their body, so let's not think about him.

—"৺コኅ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ৺ ጉ נ ሰ ኟ つ ጉ."— (Us Together Me Happy)

Mr. Crawling didn't take long to let yet another high-pitched giggle, his head coming to rest on top of (Y/N)'s, nuzzling gently against their hair and raincoat hood.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

He chirped cheerfully, his arms tightening just a little to give the human a gentle squeeze.

—"ત ટ д ሰ ኟ つ ጉ ৺ ጉ נ ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (You Happy Me Grateful)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like You)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like Together You)

All (Y/N) could do at the moment is giggle and attempt to keep up with his excitement. Jeez, they forgot how talkative Mr. Crawling gets when excited. They reach out at some point, affectionately rubbing his back like a quiet request to slow down, which the ghost quickly complies by stopping his speech and instead resorting just to the nuzzling.

The two remained like this for quite a while, just enjoying this precious moment of having each other close. Even if they knew that the next time (Y/N) needs to take a nap, they'll be in embraced again.

—"Alright, that's enough for now.—

The human muttered, giving the ghost's back a few gentle pats like a way of saying that they wanted him to move.

Mr. Crawling doesn't try to protest at all, surprisingly. And after giving one more squeeze, his arms loosen around (Y/N)'s form and he slowly lets go, his body getting off them and instead settling right by their side. That's probably the reason he didn't complain about letting go, knowing he'd be next to them one way or another.

(Y/N) chuckled again at the ghost's sneaky antics, finding them pretty adorable. And after reaching out to pat his head again, the human settles into a more comfortable position and grabs the manga book they previously dropped from Mr. Crawling's surprise-tackle-hug.

—"Okay, let's see what this is about..."—

The human muttered to themselves while opening the book and starting to read the story, deciding to go blind into it and discover the plot as they progress with the story.

Mr. Crawling in the meantime had found his comfortable spot by placing his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder, with one of his arms resting across their waist, keeping them in this half hug.

Even if the ghost didn't understand a word, the illustrations of the manga were very helpful and allowed him to follow the story along with the human. Though there were things he also didn't quite understand about human behavior, it wasn't a big deal since (Y/N) would always chive in and explain him things.

As the two lay there, reading, Mr. Crawling suddenly lifted his head and pressed his lips against (Y/N)'s cheek gently, this time actually kissing them.

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д ! "— (Me Teach Love You)

He said in a sweet, happy tone that nearly made (Y/N)'s heart explode. Ugh, seriously who gave him the right to be so cute!?

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป."— (Grateful)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ৺ ጉ נ ?"— (Like Me)

(Aaand there he goes again. Yup, high-maintenance type...)

(But he's my high-maintenance type.)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д."— (Like You)

They replied warmly, planting another kiss on top of his head, gaining yet another lovely giggle from the entity before returning their attention to the manga. The ghost soon following their example, settling back into his previous position, occasionally nuzzling against their shoulder like an affectionate cat. They could swear he'd be purring if he could.

And while reading the manga, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, but also dread a little at how the next days would go now that Mr. Crawling learned about kissing and what it meant...

...

They're going to get tackled A LOT.

"Won't they?"

[g-hughes]

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

quinn hughes bringing his girlfriend home to meet his family and he has never brought home a girl before so his family knows she must be very very special and he is always talking about her! it’s very sweet and soft and she just fits in the family so well and makes quinn so happy

A Keeper - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Quinn finds himself at the lake in the off season, and this time, he isn't flying solo

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none! losing game seven

For as long as Quinn could remember, his whole life revolved around hockey. He’d wake up, eat a quick breakfast, go to hockey practice, shower, eat lunch, sit and watch film, come home and take a nap, then go back for another practice or a game. Everything he has ever known has been hockey. Hockey took up every moment of his life, every single thought. 

But since that buzzer went off signaling the end of the final period of game seven, Quinn couldn’t think of hockey anymore. 

He wasn’t the type of guy to cry, well, not in public at least. But standing on the ice at that moment, staring up at the scoreboard and seeing the final score, he felt that all too familiar burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He glanced around at his teammates, all of them wearing the same shocked and sad expression on their faces. He didn’t dare look over at Arty, knowing that the young goalie was going to be feeling this loss harder than anyone on the team, even though they all played in the game.

You stood off to the side as Quinn answered a couple of questions for the press. Your heart was also feeling heavy and you had that same all too familiar feeling of unshed tears in your eyes. You were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend and his team. The way they were able to turn everything around from the previous season and give Vancouver a play-off berth in over a decade was something to celebrate about. And, even with that knowledge, all you wanted to do was pull Quinn away from the press and give him a hug and a thousand kisses. You could tell just by looking at him he was physically and mentally exhausted. But Quinn wasn’t going to be rude and brush off the media, he was the captain. He would gladly stand and answer the dumb “how are you feeling after the loss?” question so his guys can go home and rest.

When Quinn was done, he silently walked over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He silently led you towards the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to speed out of Rogers Arena and back home to your shared apartment. It was as if the fans knew that he wasn’t in the mood to stop and sign autographs like he usually did, instead they all seemed to give him space as he left the rink. 

The two of you seemed to move in silence as you walked into your apartment. You took Quinn’s bag from his hand, as he walked towards the bedroom. You were putting his clothes into the washer when you heard the shower turn on. You laid out a pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he was done, and went to start making him some tea. By the time he was done showering, you were sitting up against the headboard, scrolling briefly through social media, with a mug of camomile tea in your other hand. He quietly crawled into bed, and you shifted so he could lay down next to you. You held your arms open as he laid his head down on your chest. 

“I’m proud of you,” You said, running your hands through his hair. 

“Even though I lost,” He muttered. 

“You might’ve lost this one,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “But you’ve won so much more.” 

He looked up at you, tired green eyes locking on yours, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Q.”

— — — 

You were a ball of nerves. 

You had never been the type to get nervous. Usually, you were so sure and confident in yourself, but there was something about flying across the continent to meet your boyfriend's family that had your stomach in knots. Quinn had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, that they already loved you. 

Ever since you landed back in Michigan, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of Quinn’s shoulders. You guys stuck around for a couple of days after the loss, Quinn having to do exit interviews and pack up his things. Quinn only packed one bag to go back to the lake (oh, and his precious golf clubs), while you seemed to pack your whole closet. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at you as you were quickly shifting clothes from your suitcase to his in the middle of the airport because your bag was over the weight limit. 

“I should’ve told you that we could go shopping when we get here,” He said, one hand on the wheel and the other one intertwined with yours, “Get you a whole new closet to keep here for when we come back next summer.” 

“Okay mister ‘i make eight point six million a year’,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “And who says I’ll be invited back next year?” Quinn gave you a look, “What?!”

“You’ll be invited back next year,” He chuckled, “There’s only ever been one person I didn’t want to invite back.” 

“Hey, that’s not nice. Trevor is a nice kid,” Quinn shook his head with a laugh, “But I’m serious. What if your family doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me-” 

“They are going to love you, Y/N,” Quinn pulled your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, “They have been begging me to fly back so that they can meet you. My mom has been sending me texts and asking me about your favorite foods and hobbies and card games.” 

You couldn’t help but blush and look down at your lap. You haven’t met Quinn’s family before, but from what he described, you can tell that they are very close. Quinn talks to his middle brother, Jack almost every day on the phone, and either texts Luke or calls him a couple times a week. He values his time with his family almost as much as he values his time on the ice with his teammates. 

“And here we are,” Quinn announced as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story lake house. Excitement and anxiety filled your body, making your stomach turn. Your hands felt sweaty as Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and the front door opened at the same time. A boy with longish brown hair and a similar face to Quinn came rushing out of the house, barefoot and shirtless. 

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a hug, another boy walking out of the house. He was slightly taller with curly hair, but had those same dark eyebags as Quinn. You slipped out of the car, walking up to the three boys who were engaged in a conversation. It was like Quinn had a sixth sense for you being near him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, easing some of your nerves. 

“And who might this be?” The long haired boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“This would be my girl,” Quinn looked at you, “Y/N,” Heat arose in your cheeks as he looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon. 

“Well I’m Jack,” The long haired boy said, holding his hand out to you. You chuckled nervously, shaking his hand, “And it's a pleasure to meet the girl that has my older brother drooling.” 

“I am not drooling,” Quinn shot back. 

“Basically are, Q,” The taller boy said, “I’m Luke.” 

You shook his hand too, “It’s nice to meet you guys, finally. Quinn has told me so much about you. It’s good to see your healing well, Jack.” 

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, “Been a long season but I’m glad I got this taken care of,” He massaged his shoulder, and you could see a slightly still puffy, pink scar, “But don’t think I can’t beat your ass at pool, Q.” 

“I’d like to see you try, Rowdy.” 

“Boys!” A woman called from the doorway. You looked around Luke to see a beautiful blonde woman standing there, her hands on her hips, “Let your brother and his girlfriend get settled before you start your pool tournament!” 

“Yes mom,” Both Jack and Luke said. Quinn chuckled as he pulled you towards the front door, letting Jack and Luke bicker about who was going to carry your bags in. 

You squeezed Quinn’s hand as you walked up to the matriarch of the Hughes family. You had read up on Ellen Hughes when you had met Quinn. She was an incredible woman, being a former hockey star herself and raising three incredible players. You felt another wave of anxiety rush over you as she looked you over, her eyes similar to Quinn taking you in. It felt like you were standing in front of a judge; a judge who was going to decide if you are worthy enough for her eldest son. 

“Hey mom,” Quinn greeted her, leaving your side to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Good to see ya.” 

“You too, baby,” Ellen said, and held her son at an arm’s length. She tsked, grabbing his chin and running a finger over the scar on his cheek, “That should’ve been a damn high stick.” 

Quinn chuckled, “Not much we can do about it now. Besides, it adds to my cool factor.” 

“Mhm,” Ellen nodded, and playfully rolled her eyes, looking back towards you. 

You mouth felt dry and you stepped forward, holding your hand out to Ellen, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hughes.” 

It was silent for a moment, probably not as long as you felt like it was, but it was long enough, before Ellen pulled you in for a hug. 

“Handshakes are for business partners and old men,” Ellen told you as she gave you a squeeze. And just like that, all the tension you felt had melted away. Ellen pulled back and held you at arms length, the same way she did with Quinn, “My son seemed to be hiding you away,” She looked at Quinn, “Why were you hiding her away? You talk about her all the time.” 

Quinn chuckled, grabbing you gently out of his mother’s hold, “Because I wanted to keep her for myself for just a bit longer. I know once I bring her home, I’ll be fighting for her attention.” 

“Well, start fighting now,” Ellen said and you chuckled, “C’mon, I just finished making some sangria. The boys can take your stuff to your room.” 

For several hours, you sat in the kitchen with Ellen, getting to know her. It started off with just small talk; asking where you are from, what are your parents' names, what do they do, what do you do for work, how did you meet Quinn. Then the conversation transitioned into how to make the perfect cheesecake, something Ellen was famous for in their neighborhood back in Michigan. Before you knew it, you and Ellen were making dinner side by side, while the boys sat out on the back patio with their dad, Jim, watching the grill. 

“The boys used to volun-tell me to make raspberry cheesecake for every single end of season potluck,” Ellen shook her head with a laugh, “Oh I wanted to strangle them sometimes, cause of course, they never told more than a day or two in advance.” 

“Oh of course not,” You giggled, “Quinn signed me up to bake cookies for one of the Canucks charity events. Told me at eight o'clock the night before that he needed me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies.” 

“Boys,” Ellen playfully rolled her eyes. 

“What about boys?” Quinn asked as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh nothing,” Ellen said, wiping her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder, “Y/N makes a better sous chef than you.” 

“Taking my job?” Quinn looked at you. You nodded your head, “Traitor. This is my off-season gig,” He reached over to grab a cube of watermelon, but you swatted his hand back, “Hey!” 

“This is for dinner,” You scolded him. Quinn walked around to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Quinn, your begging isn’t going to make me cave.” 

“Please,” Quinn whined, “I lost game seven.” 

“Two weeks ago!” 

“I’m still wounded!” 

“Fine,” You muttered, grabbing a cube of watermelon and turning in his arms to face him, “Because you lost game seven. . . two weeks ago,” You fed it to him and he smiled. 

“Thanks baby,” He kissed your cheek before heading back out to the grill. 

You shook your head, going back to placing balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet. It was quiet and you could feel Ellen’s stare on you as you worked, causing you to overthink every little movement you made. You paused, looking at the cookies before looking up at Ellen. 

“Did I mess something up?” You asked, fear rising in your body. 

“Hm? Oh, no,” Ellen shook her head, “It’s just. . . he never used to joke about the games he lost. In fact, it was almost like a taboo subject to bring up any losses around him. It’s. . . refreshing to see him like that.” 

You blushed and nodded, going back to work, a small smile on your face. 

Dinner went off without a hitch. Jim had grilled enough hamburgers, chicken and steak to feed a whole hockey team instead of just the six of you. You fell into comfortable silence as you watched the Hughes family interact with each other. It was like no time had passed by them at all, as if they weren’t spread across North America and in different time zones. You felt comfortable and at ease with them. And Quinn could sense that as he looked at you. 

“Feeling okay?” He asked, nodding towards your barely touched plate. 

“Yeah, I feel fine,” You smiled, picking up your fork, “Just. . . taking it all in,” You sighed. Quinn smiled and placed his hand on your thigh. 

Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look across the table, watching you and their son interact. They were both taken aback when Quinn first mentioned a girl in his life. Quinn was always so focused on hockey that personal relationships (unless they were centered around hockey) came second to him. It wasn’t that Ellen feared that her son was going to be alone forever, she just knew the kind of man he was. She knew that hockey wasn’t going to be around forever, that there would come a time where Quinn would retire from the game, and she wanted him to have someone who would be there for when that time came. She wanted him to have someone for when he came home from those long roadies or hard fought games. She wanted him to have the kind of partner and relationship that she has with Jim. 

When dinner was over, you and Quinn packed up the boat, putting a small cooler of seltzers and water, a couple of blankets and towels. Quinn gave you one of his sweatshirts to wear, knowing that it would get cold once the sun went all the way down. You sat next to Ellen as the boys and Jim, pushed away from the dock, ready to set out on a slow sunset cruise around the lake. Quinn took up the captain spot, while Jack and Jim navigated, Luke opted to sit next to you and his mom. 

“So, who is the best driver?” You asked, looking at the three Hughes boys. 

“Oh for sure me,” Jack scoffed. 

“You only have one functioning arm,” Luke pointed. 

“It wasn’t chopped off,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I can still use my hands.” 

“Whatever you say, Bucky Barnes.” 

You giggled and looked at Ellen, “They always like this?” 

“Got worse with age,” Ellen sighed, “I was a little worried when they all went into the NHL. I have known some families that the competition gets the better of them, and they don’t talk anymore. But not these three. I think if anything, they talk more now than they ever had.” 

You smiled, “Quinn talks about them all the time. He has me record their games so he can watch them back after his.” 

Ellen’s heart swelled at your words, “He told them about you first,” You blushed, “Jack can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he texted me asking if I knew that Quinn had a girlfriend and I said no, and then Jack launched into this whole story that Quinn told them about you,” Ellen chuckled, “When Quinn told us about you, I told him I already knew.” 

“What did he say then?” You asked. 

“He said ‘of course Jack told you’,” You laughed and Ellen smiled, “It meant a lot to Jack that you sent him flowers after his surgery, and Luke when you sent some after his Calder nomination. They won’t admit that, but I know it.” 

“They mean a lot to him,” You gestured towards your boyfriend and his brothers who were sitting at the front of the boat, “So they mean a lot to me too.” 

Quinn glanced at you from where he sat, a smile on his face as you talked to his parents. His parents were two of the most important people in his life. He valued their opinion on almost everything, so it meant something to see you so easily getting along with them. His heart felt warm when he heard your laughter at a, no doubt, embarrassing story his dad was telling. 

“So when are you going to propose?” Jack said, pulling Quinn out of his trance. 

“What?” 

“You got a ring yet? I bet you got a ring already.” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re going to marry her!” Jack exclaimed, “And don’t even lie, I can see it. I have a sixth sense for these things.” 

“Yeah, and I talk to ghosts,” Quinn rolled his eyes. But his younger brother was right. Even though you and him had only been dating for six months, Quinn had already imagined proposing to you, getting married, buying a house, and hopefully, having a family. Quinn had never felt this way about someone before, and he would be lying if he wasn’t a bit scared of his feelings, but one look at you and all those fears melted away. 

“Whatever man,” Jack waved him off, “As long as I get to be the best man, I won’t complain.” 

“And who says you will be the best man?” Luke asked, “If anything, I think it would be me. I never broke his xbox controller.” 

“Luke, you’re literally like seven,” Jack scoffed, “It won’t be you.” 

“I’m twenty.” 

The sun was completely down by the time you guys had made it back to the dock. Quinn expertly parked the boat in the hoist, and helped you out, before raising it back up. Jack and Luke had run back to the house, shouting something about getting a fire started, Ellen and Jim walking hand in hand behind them. You stood on the dock, taking in the dark lake in the final strands of light from the sky. 

“No wonder you guys run away to this place at the end of the season,” You said, “It’s so peaceful here. I love it and I’ve only been here a couple of hours.” 

Quinn chuckled, “It feels like this is the one place on earth where I can be just Quinn Hughes. Not the hockey player or the captain of the Canucks. Just Quinn.” 

You turned around, draping your arms around his neck, “Well I like it, Just Quinn,” He smiled at you, his hands resting on your hips, “Thank you for bringing me here. For letting me into your life.” 

“Of course,” Quinn’s voice was full of sincerity as his thumbs brushed over your hip bones, “Thank you for being in my life. You’ve made me a better person.” You tilted your head up slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other one tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you rested your forehead against his, wanting to just stand in his embrace for a moment longer. 

“Hey lovebirds!” You broke apart, like two teenagers being caught by your parents. But instead of your parents, it was Jack, “Quit sucking face! We’re making smores!” 

“He is such a child,” Quinn huffed. You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house. 

“Yes but you love him.” 

“Unfortunately, I do.” 

You sat on Quinn’s lap, your legs dangling off the side of the chair, by the fire, as Jack and Luke argued about how toasted a marshmallow should be for the perfect smore. Ellen and Jim sat across the firepit from you and Quinn, enjoying having their kids back home. Your eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the heat from the fire, being in Quinn’s embrace and the exhaustion from traveling finally catching up to you. Quinn could feel your body growing heavier and heavier with sleep, his hand running up and down your back, a soothing motion that he knew would lull you to sleep. 

“Tired?” He asked, looking at you. 

“A bit,” You yawned, “But I don’t want to go to bed yet, having too much fun.” 

“Just close your eyes,” Quinn whispered. You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. He leaned his cheek on top of your head. It wasn’t very long after that, that Quinn could feel your breathing start to slow, until you were sleeping in his arms. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“She’s a keeper Quinn,” Jim said, raising his can of beer towards his son, “She’s gotta be a special one to deal with you.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his eyes still on your sleeping frame, “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

note: I am thinking of creating a tag list. Is that something y'all would want? also, requests are open!!

[snoopychris]

nerd!matt and cheerleader!reader headcanons

warnings: very cheesy romance stuff, light smut near the end, mentions of masturbation

nerd!matt who... walks around with his headphones in all the time (he’s listening to clairo and beabadoobee.)

nerd!matt who... has always lived in his brothers shadows, he had a presence hardly ever mentioned by anyone at the school.

nerd!matt who... spends his free time building legos and playing nintendo games

nerd!matt who... loves taking late night drives and sitting on the beach, even when it’s snowing.

nerd!matt who... has had the same pokémon backpack since middle school 

nerd!matt who... eats lunch in the science room so he doesn’t sit alone in the cafeteria 

nerd!matt who... has a diary where he writes he writes about his days 

nerd!matt who... has been pining for cheerleader!reader ever since chris threw a party at their house while their parents were out of town

nerd!matt who... held cheerleader!readers hair up while she was throwing up at said party 

nerd!matt who... kind of begs Nick to take more pictures of cheerleader!reader for the yearbook

nerd!matt who... claims to go football games to cheer on chris but is really cheering on the cheerleaders

nerd!matt who... comes into close contact with cheerleader!reader often but always seems to struggle saying anything more than “how are you”

nerd!matt who... has a playlist of songs that make him think of cheerleader!reader

nerd!matt who... gets extremely flustered when he has to sit next to cheerleader!reader in any situation

nerd!matt who... he could trade lives with chris for just one day so he could have a chance with his cheerleader

cheerleader!reader who... first noticed nerd!matt when her parking spot was assigned next to his but first really noticed him at her birthday party 

cheerleader!reader who... doesn’t have romantic interest in any of the football players, despite everybody thinking otherwise 

cheerleader!reader who... is the first to defend nerd!matt whenever anybody talks about him

cheerleader!reader who... wore a pokémon shirt to “dress like your young self day” in hopes that matt would talk to her

cheerleader!reader who... lowers her voice when talking to matt so he doesn’t run away

cheerleader!reader who... asks matt if he has a spotify one day and gets really sad when she sees a playlist who she thinks is about another girl

cheerleader!reader who... tries to convince chris to throw more parties at his house (matt won’t be seen at a party otherwise)

cheerleader!reader who... always invites matt to play party games with them even though he always denies it

cheerleader!reader who... begs nick to let her come over sometimes so she can see matt

cheerleader!reader who... makes sure she always makes matt feel welcome

cheerleader!reader who... tells the science teacher all about nerd!matt in her free time during his class because no other teacher will listen 

cheerleader!reader who... keeps an eye on the music nerd!matt is listening to and wears band tees the next day

cheerleader!reader who... always tries to talk to nerd!matt about his interests and truly is interested

cheerleader!reader who... wishes that she could just for one day not be a cheerleader so she could talk to matt normally without him freaking out over it

cheerleader!reader and nerd!matt who... mutually pine over each other without even knowing it

nerd!matt who... is most definitely still a virgin but “doesnt really care about that stuff”

cheerleader!reader who... would probably give anything to sit on matt’s lap 

nerd!matt who... would be lying if he said he had never thought of ruining the short cheerleading uniform with his own cum

cheerleader!reader who... sometimes listens in on matt’s whimpers through his door when she’s spending time with nick and chris

nerd!matt who... hates to admit that he sometimes looks at pictures of cheerleader!reader on instagram while jerking off

๋࣭⭑ dividers by @bernardsbendystraws !

๋࣭⭑ taglist(reply or message to be added!) : @sophand4n4 @mattssslutbby @frankoceanfanpage

๋࣭⭑a/n: thank u so much for the support omg?? i was actually not expecting that at all but had this already ready so here i am! i love u all so much! kiss kiss - gen.

[callahanisms]

all you need is more radaway

save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)

anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(

perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol

character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul

it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.

and building up endurance, of course.

you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.

to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.

thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.

"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"

you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.

"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.

"now i don't know if you should do that."

"and why not?"

a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.

but you weren't afraid.

"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."

"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.

"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."

"if you believe so."

your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.

of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.

in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?

"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"

more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.

"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"

"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.

"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."

"we'll see about that."

your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.

surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.

and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.

unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.

"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.

"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.

you chuckle a little.

"something funny?" the ghoul asks.

"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."

"very funny."

"let me guess. your answer is no?"

"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."

"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."

you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."

"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.

"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.

the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.

as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.

the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.

"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"

"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."

the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.

it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.

and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.

undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.

"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."

"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."

"from watching my movies?"

"yes!"

"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.

"that also makes you over 200 years old."

"that it does. something wrong with that?"

"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."

"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.

"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."

"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."

"i have a name, you know."

"what is it?"

"(y/n)."

getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.

"guess we're even now."

the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."

cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"

"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.

"i think you might die."

"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.

"i can also swim, you know."

"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."

you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.

you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.

"fuck!"

he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.

suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.

there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.

"something happen down there?"

"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."

while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?

"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."

"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.

"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."

"i don't."

"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.

dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.

cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.

though how does this work exactly?

"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.

cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.

it's so cute when he smirks.

you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.

"i absolutely can."

[ellecdc]

Hi!! I love love love your Finnick fics. I saw your requests are open and thought I would try one!

I was thinking reader and Finnick reuniting in either District 13 or after in the capitol when the rebels have taken it over. It could be a separation due to an Annie situation or something different. No worries if this doesn’t sound interesting to you! 🤍

thanks for your request! I absolutely love the district 13 reunion trope, but I had never read one based in the Capitol before so I decided to give that one a try. I hope I did it justice!

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who he will always find [1.5k words]

CW: potentially ooc Finnick BUT I did it on purpose because I think his unyielding loyalty and sense of duty is what ultimately killed him so SUE ME for making him selfish just ONCE 😭, angst with a happy ending

Everything Finnick had endured and smiled through since his own Games back at merely 14 years old had been for the benefit of others. The only thing he has ever done for himself was survive his games; and that was more out of desperation and instinct than it was out of any sense of pride. He dressed for the Capitol, he performed for the Capitol, he sold himself to the Capitol in order to keep his family and loved ones safe, he showed up every year in order to give other children a fighting fucking chance to survive their own games, he agreed to protect the Mockingjay for the rebellion, he sacrificed his oldest and dearest friend for their cause and almost lost another. 

He did his best to make another district feel like home even though his heart had quite literally been ripped away from him, all for the benefit of the cause, and even joined their army. 

Today, Finnick had one thing he needed to do for himself. And anyone who found fault with that could, quite frankly, suck his dick. 

“Finnick?” Katniss asks, looking up from the electronic map on the Holo in front of her. “Were you listening?” 

Finnick watches Gale’s jaw tighten at his lack of attention and fights against an eyeroll of his own. That was yet another thing Finnick had been doing as of late: playing mediator for this godawful love triangle. 

“Uhm, listen,” Finnick starts, looking around at the faces of squad 451, “If I get the chance, I’ll meet back up with the rest of you at the president's mansion, okay?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Gale starts, standing from his crouched position, prompting Finnick to do the same. “Like hell you’re taking off; the plan was to stick together.”

“The plan was to film propos; that plan has changed, and before I go any further, I have someone I need to find.” 

“Finnick…” Katniss starts, tone dripping with pity as she follows him when he takes a few steps backwards and away from the group. “Wait!”

“I’ve done my waiting, Katniss.”

“You can’t just leave!” She calls, prompting him to turn back towards her.

“You got Peeta back!” He nearly sobs, flinging an arm out towards said boy; slightly worse for wear yet still on his feet. “He’s a little broken but he’s in there, Katniss. And even if he wasn’t, at least you know he’s alive. I need to find my Peeta.”

Katniss lets out a sad sigh; eyes searching his face for any signs of hesitation. Finnick knew she’d find none. “She wasn’t with the others; what if she’s already gone?”

Gone. She meant dead. What if you were already dead?

“I would happily die next to her, Katniss. But I won’t die for a movement that means nothing if she’s not here with me.”

Finnick ignores the heat of tears lining his cheeks as he watches Katniss recall how she very nearly gave up on the entire cause herself when she found out Peeta had been taken by the Capitol from the arena. 

Well, Katniss referred to it as left behind, but Peeta was snatched; you were left behind. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Listen, we had little time to react; the moment came upon us faster than anyone anticipated and she was nowhere to be found, Odair. I looked; I searched for her, but Plutarch said we had to go.” Haymitch had explained to him.

“I protected YOUR MOCKINGJAY.” Finnick had screamed. “I protected her at the cost of Mags and Johanna. I protect Katniss, you protect my girl; that was the deal.”

“Finnick-”

“That was the deal, and you LEFT HER BEHIND!?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Finnick had gotten violent, and not on purpose. He had to be sedated for three days after that, and they considered doing it again after Peeta was aired by the capitol, but you and Johanna weren’t. He was sedated again after Peeta and Johanna were rescued from the Capitol, but you were not. 

He was officially back in your last known whereabouts. He didn’t know if he’d find you, but he had to look. 

“We…” Finnick starts as he takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face before turning his attention back to someone he had come to consider a friend. “We had somewhere…that we would meet. No one else knew of it, it was safe; if she’s here, I just-”

But Katniss simply nods. “You have to try.”

“I have to try.” He parrots.

Katniss’ eyes flicker between Finnick’s before she suddenly embraces him; the act seemingly shocking both Finnick and herself as he tentatively returns the embrace. 

“Be careful.”

Finnick tries to laugh as he pats her on the back before pulling away. “You be careful; you’re the one they’re all after.”

“We’ll see you out there?” She asks as he backs away. 

Finnick nods. “Look out for one another, yeah?” 

With one final wave - Peeta offering a cautious one of his own while everyone else (save Gale) waved back - Finnick began his journey to the last spot he could possibly hope for you to be.

You itched to leave; to look for him. He was here; after all these weeks he was actually here.

You’d managed to take off early on in the chaos and confusion following the arena being blown up; heart breaking yet simultaneously leaping at the sight of Plutarch’s hovercraft taking off without you, knowing they were going to go rescue your boy.

You let that knowledge be enough as you fought to put enough space between you and the peacekeepers tasked with finding you. 

You managed to overtake two of them, slipped into one of their uniforms and stole their weapons before going to the last place you could think that might possibly be safe; the last place you could think that Finnick might possibly find you. 

The radios you’d pilfered from the peacekeepers alerted you to rebel presence a few days ago, and it was later confirmed that a team including three victors - the Mockingjay, Peeta, and Finnick - were here. 

Here. 

You paced a hole in the floor as you considered your options. The city was large, dangerous, and you’d have to stay hidden; if he saw what appeared to be a peacekeeper approaching him, he’d have to kill you. 

But you could be sitting here indefinitely if you simply waited for him. What if he was in danger? What if he needed you? What if you could help?

Your spiralling was interrupted by a quiet knock on the makeshift door. 

There was a reasonable - perhaps hopeful - part of you that knew if it was a peacekeeper or other rebel forces, they wouldn’t have bothered knocking or alerting you to their presence. 

But years of violence and conflict found you pulling the neckguard of your stolen uniform over your mouth and nose - leaving your eyes and hair exposed - as you moved in the direction of the door with your weapon raised. 

Before you have a moment to react, the door swings open quickly and you are face to face - or, rather, gun to gun - with the love of your life. 

“Finnick?” You whisper, keeping your gun raised as Finnick lowers his own and looks at you with an expression mixed with grief and unadulterated relief. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He lets out with a soft sob, and your gun falls to the ground with a clatter as you throw yourself at him. 

He catches you; of course he catches you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You nearly sob as he lowers the two of you to the ground; overwhelmed with emotions, his legs give out on him as he keeps you pressed tight against his torso. “I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

You’re nearly keening as you alternate between pressing as many kisses to Finnick’s lips, cheeks, jaw, head - anything you can get your lips on, really - sobbing, and nearly strangling him with the desperation of your embrace. 

“I found you, I found you” Finnick chants like a prayer. “I can’t believe I found you. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re quickly shaking your head as you take hold of his face between your hands. “You don’t have to be sorry; you did exactly what you were supposed to.”

“They left you behind.” He cries. 

“They saved you.” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t argue, simply lowering his forehead to yours as his hands trail up and over your arms, sliding up your neck and then back down again as though he can’t help but touch every single part of you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You repeat again. “I can’t believe you found me.”

“I will always find you.” He insists, pulling your face from where you try shoving it into his neck only to hold it in front of him as he stares at you imploringly. “Do you hear me? I will always find you. I will always find you.” 

“I know, Finn.” You agree. “I know you will.”

[littlefluu]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader  .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.  ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

[yelenasbraid]

always a winner — joe burrow

summary — you’re at an away show and can’t make it to the game against the ravens. with the frustration of the loss, joe can’t help but be upset.

warnings — fem!equestrian!reader, major angst, arguments, fluff, sad joe, self-degradation talk

note — look 😭 i’m sorry for the horse lore, i got a bit crazy with it (kind of self indulgent since i used to ride horses lol) but i hope it’s not too crazy for you! if it is sorry in advance!!!

YOU HAD TO BE CAREFUL to not let the silence scare you. the anticipation that sat in the air, eyes moving with the horses in front of them.

horse shows were both quiet and loud at the same time. the rounds themselves were quiet, all attention on the team below them. it was also because anything could spook a horse and derail the entire thing.

you liked the silence. it allowed you to think, to process the steps ahead of you. as you cleared another jump, you were 15 seconds away from snatching first place. as you rounded a corner, pushing your horse towards the final jump, you felt every move you made. your hips flexing, your thighs wrapping around your horse, your hands making room for your horse’s movements as you soared over the last jump.

“with a time of 1.15, y/n l/n snatches the first place slot,” the announcer speaks over the loudspeaker, cheers erupting from the crowd. you pumped your fist in the air, bringing it down to pat your horse. as you galloped around, wearing a bright smile, your thoughts wondered to your boyfriend, who played barely an hour away from where you were.

flashback

“oh, come on, i think you’re being a little dramatic,” you laughed on the phone, packing your riding gear up. joe was in his hotel room, prepping for the game that evening.

“i am not! i feel like a part of me is missing when you’re not here,” joe pouted, and you could hear the pout on the other side of the screen. you didn’t understand why players had to be in hotel rooms even when games were at home, but it was routine. you and joe were used to it.

“i wish i could be there,” you hummed, falling on your back onto your bed. you would leave for your show in about an hour, and by that time, joe would be getting on the field.

“me too, but you’re gonna do great. i want to hear all about it,” he smiled. he needed you there, though. he felt the loss in his chest, the ache of it all spreading across his body.

“oh you are,” you assured him. silence bred between you, unspoken words and topics fizzling into vision.

“on a serious note, joey, no matter what happens out there, i’m proud of you, ok? you’ve come so far, have done so well, and i am so so proud of you,” you reminded him. you knew that this season hasn’t been what joe wanted. the losses, the one win, he needed a win against the ravens.

“thank you, love. that means a lot,” he hummed. you were always in his corner, supporting him in the small and big ways. he just wished you were there.

end of flashback

you walked out, cheeks flushed and a proud smile on your face. a bright, blue ribbon was pinned on your horse’s bridle as you walked out. your coach came up and patted your horse’s neck.

“see what happens when i tell you to trust your gut?” she playfully smacked your thigh, causing you to let out a puff of air.

“yeah yeah,” you joked. your eyes met your friend’s, who came up to you with your phone in hand. you told her to keep tabs on the game for you, even though you’d watch highlights on the way home.

“it’s not good,” she started, which was a terrible start. your smile dropped, your heart rate increased, and the worst case scenarios started bombarding you. was it joe? is he ok? is he hurt? please tell me he’s not hurt.

“what is it?” you asked, dismounting. you held your reins in your hands as you looked at the score. 38-41. you were in disbelief. when you checked before your ride, they were in the lead. a good lead too, what happened?

your friend seemed to read your mind.

“evan missed the kick because the holder slipped his grip on the ball in overtime,” she answered. overtime? they went into overtime? you closed your eyes, pursing your lips. sorrow seeped into the cracks in your chest, bleeding down into your soul. you opened your eyes, fighting the tears that stung you. not here. people are going to ask.

you handed your horse to your coach, taking your phone from your friend. you knew joe was beating himself up. you knew he was going over every play, every single thing that went wrong. you knew that he was angry. he had every right to be. you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking, the defeat, the pain, all of it. he worked so hard to get where he was, and to lose 4 games didn’t prove to the world joe burrow was back. you saw beyond that stat, though. you saw other numbers, like his passing yards exceeded that of mahomes and lamar. you saw his dedication, his work ethic, and his commitment to the sport and his health. you were so beyond proud of him, but you knew that he wasn’t feeling any of that right now.

—

the show packed up from there. horses were loaded, saddles were put away, and you changed into something more comfortable. you sit in the passenger seat of the truck, your coach driving you home. she picked you up, explaining that she didn’t want you to have to drive home.

it was sweet, and it also meant you got to see joe faster.

the truck comes to a stop in your driveway, and you can see lights on in the house. joe was home. of course he was, the game ended around 4 pm, and it was now 6. you gathered your things before stepping out, thanking your coach for the ride. you huffed, walking up to your door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

game day joe was unpredictable. if he won, he was in a great mood, and you usually celebrate in more ways than one. when he lost, he hid himself away, lost himself in film and away from you.

you’ve mentioned it, and he’s worked on it, but it was hard for him to be close to someone else when he didn’t even want to be around himself. you just wanted to be there for him, to hold him and reassure him that he was still good, that you were still proud of him.

you walked in the door, the silence of the house deafening. you softly shut the door, locking it behind you as you walked into your home. it was cozy. blankets were neatly folded across the couch and folded in the basket, pictures hung on the wall, and small items of decor that had joe and y/n etched all over it. it was home, but you couldn’t ignore the forgotten water bottle on the island or the strewn shoes by the door. you flicked your eyes upwards when you heard shifting, signs of life from your boyfriend.

“babe?” you called, slipping off your shoes and neatly placing them by the door. you walked into the kitchen, dropped your bag in order to fill up your water bottle. you heard footsteps, and then descending steps. you turned to see your boyfriend walk into view. he looked exhausted. his face was sullen, eyes void of any light, and his hands hung loosely at his sides. his hair was wet; signs of a shower.

“how was it?” he asked. his voice was hoarse, and if he was honest, he didn’t want to talk. he wanted to be left alone, but at the same time he needed to see you. you weren’t at the game, you didn’t see him after he walked into the tunnel, or after the presser. no matter how often it happened, he was never used to it. why weren’t you there?

“it was good, stayed on and was safe,” you answered. telling him you won first place didn’t seem appropriate, but you knew he’d ask.

“did you place?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. he knew you did, you always did. unlike him, you managed to win at your sport.

“i did,” you started, your eyes flicking over his form. he looked small, and not in the physical sense, in the emotional sense. he barely held eye contact with you, but he was standing there, with you. he looked like a little boy, dressed in a loose fitting black shirt and sweats. his expression was hard, his nose red and cheeks raw.

he nodded and turned away from you, starting back up the stairs.

“joe,” you called after him. his heart jumped in his chest; he didn’t want to talk about it.

“i don’t want to talk, y/n,” he told you, a little harsher than he intended.

“don’t distance yourself from me, please,” you stepped towards him, and he went rigid. you stopped, watching as he turned to face you, his eyes now full of emotions. anger, guilt, sadness.

“you’re telling me that?” he snapped. he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to go there. you didn’t deserve it. you were right, and he begged himself to stop.

“what?” your voice is small, confused.

“you’re the one who told me a week ago she was going to be at the game, you’re the one who spent all of her time at the barn this week, you’re the one who’s avoided me,” everything is crashing down on him, the loss, his failure, his undeniable need for you.

“i don’t go to the barn to avoid you, joey. you know that,” you reminded him, trying to keep some semblance of peace. his emotions were running rampant, and he was trying to control them.

“you’re there for hours, you’re not home when i get home, and i’ve ate dinner by myself for a few days this week,” he feels the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, the clench in his chest. joe knows you’re there for hours, and he’s never voiced having an issue with it. joe knew that he sounded like he didn’t make much sense, but nothing was making sense for him.

“joe, what-”

“you weren’t there! you weren’t there and i needed you there,” his voice raised, standing a few feet in front of you.

“joe, with my schedule and yours i can’t be at every game! i thought we were in agreement with this,” you defended. you watched as his face shattered, the wall coming down, the realization settling in. he thought he’d be winning by now, at least 2-3, but he wasn’t.

“but i needed you,” he whispered, but his anger was still present. he wasn’t angry at you, he didn’t blame you, but his anger at himself manifested into it being towards you. a single tear slipped down his cheek, his eyes red with the threat of more.

the silence between you was poison, seeping into your pores and creating the sour cocktail of anxiety. your eyes never left joe’s body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the unshed tears, and the shattered look in his eyes.

you should’ve been there.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there,” you started, fiddling with your fingers. joe shook his head, wiping his eyes and his nose.

“it doesn’t change anything,” he snapped.

“i know it doesn’t, but i can’t control my schedule, just like you can’t,” you told him. he knew you were right. he knew how it worked, yet his emotions betrayed him. that’s not really how it works. she just wants to have an excuse to not see you embarrass yourself.

he looked at you, his eyes puffy and red. his arms ached, desperate to be around you. his heart raced, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. the more he met eyes with you, the more his body relaxed. he swam in your expression, the softness of it but also the sternness of it. you’d defend yourself even if he was being unreasonable. his hands hung at his sides, his chest still tight.

he needed you, and you were here. now.

you gingerly approached him, watching as his head dipped to avoid eye contact with you. his chest heaved, his breaths clawing at his eyes; don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. your hand gently rested on his cheek, guiding him to look at you. his eyes met yours, and his heart lurched. he didn’t want to sob, but he couldn’t help it. a sob escaped his throat, and you pulled him for a hug. you cradled the back of his neck, fingers caressing his skin as he buried his face into your shoulder, tears cascading down his raw cheeks.

joe hated arguing with you. he hated it even more when he was the one to start it. joe knew you worked hard, he knew that your commitment to your sport matched his own, but with how vulnerable he felt, he just needed his safety blanket. he needed you to help put his pieces back together, to remind him of who he was. as his arms held onto you, keeping you close to his body, he felt his breathing settle and his heart rate slow.

after a few moments, joe pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. when you first started dating, joe didn’t cry in front of you. he didn’t want you to think he was weak, or that he wasn’t able to handle the load. as time went on, you became the only person besides his parents he’d cry to. he felt safe with you, he felt like he could give you his emotions and you’d take care of them.

your hands cupped his cheeks, one of his hands resting on yours.

“i’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. your shoulders sagged, a small smile gracing your lips.

“i forgive you,” you hummed, brushing an escaped tear from his eye.

“i know we’ve talked about it,” he sniffled, “and i have gotten better at letting you in, but it’s not always easy,” he confessed. you knew that, it wasn’t human nature to confess your deepest feelings, even to those closest to you. it was a protective measure.

“it’s not going to be easy, but the important thing is that you try,” you spoke softly, your hands falling from his cheeks.

“i want to win,” he whispered, his eyes glazing over with fresh tears, “i want to win so badly, for the team, for cincinnati, for you,” he continued, his voice breaking.

“and you will, trust me. you will win, even if you’re already a winner in my eyes,” you tagged a lighter tone to your words, which caused joe to break out a small smile. silence fell between you, unspoken words oozing out of joe’s skin.

“i am proud of you, i always will be, but i do want to bring home wins too,” he added. you chuckled, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles.

“who has the trophy in the basement?” you joked, earning a chuckle from joe, “in all seriousness, you are going to bring home wins. we win together, not separately. when you win, i win. we do this together,” you gave his hands a squeeze, earning a bright smile from him. you leaned up and pecked his lips, then his forehead.

“i am proud of you, joe. every step you’ve taken, every yard you’ve thrown, i am beyond proud of you,” your words sunk into his skin, reminding him of who he was. he was joe burrow, joe sheisty, the quarterback that brought the bengals back to life.

“i love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“i love you,” you hummed. the warm moment was interrupted by the growling of joe’s stomach. you laughed, jokingly patting his stomach.

“is someone hungry?” you chuckle, pulling your head away from his. he laughed, nodding his head.

“i’ve not eaten dinner yet,” he confessed, earning a smack on the arm.

“joseph lee!” you scolded with a smile, “as much as you speak on eating healthy, you need to practice what you preach,” you teased as you walked into the kitchen. joe followed, watching as you opened the fridge. you had leftovers from the previous night, so you pulled those out.

“i do! most of the time,” he rebutted as he watched you place food on plates. as you stuck one in the oven, he wrapped his arms around you again. he melted into you, all 6’4 of him. you ran your hand down his back, then back up to his hair to run your fingers through his frosted tips. the microwave beeped, separating you two.

“we should watch a movie,” joe suggested as you put the second plate in.

“like old times?” you smiled, remembering the movie nights in college.

“yeah, except i won’t commentate,” he assured you. both of you were bad at it, especially marvel movies, which made it amazing when you two watched movies together. with friends? oh it was terrible.

“i’ll believe that when i see it,” you replied. with your plates of food, you walked over and sat on the couch, turning on a movie. joe sat next to you, leaning his shoulder on you. you didn’t mind how clingy he was, you embraced it. you sat, ate dinner, and watched a movie. a comforting and familiar experience.

with dinner done, plates on the coffee table, the movie still going on, joe nestled himself against your chest. his cheek against your chest, listening to your stead heartbeat, it was putting him to sleep. your hands combing through his hair didn’t help either. joe eventually fell asleep, his face tucked away in your shirt and his arms around you. you kissed the top of his head, a smile on your face.

“sweet dreams, my love,”

rushed ending so sorry about that! i will say though, as work picks up for me i might not be writing as much. there’s also some other stuff going on too so that’s fun ���� so i will post when i can! hope you guys enjoy the writing before i get burnt out lol.

tags — @wickedfun9

[reidrum]

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

[aouiaa]

[✶] — YOUTUBER!ELLIE HEADCANNONS

DISCLAIMERS & WARNINGS — EIGHTEEN PLUS, usage of cursing, mentions of kicking vagina (idk what else 😭)

AUTHOR’S NOTE, hoorah!

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who will never in a million years stop saying out of pocket shit.

She’s playing nun massacre by the creators puppet combo when she starts talking her shit — she is a bark, no bite type of a girl.. — “Let that nun come in here, Ima Liu Kang kick her coochie.” she says, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration with a hint of fear. (autocorrect hella fear). She’s a room, crouched by a drawer, searching for items when she continues her rave. “Phoosh, me, scared?” she rolls her eyes with too much confidence. “I wanna see that saggy titty bitch come—“ she cuts herself off when the screen start glitching indicating the enemy nearby and immediately scurries in a corner.

The moment she’s in the corner, she looks striaght into the camera, expression changed within seconds. “Guys—no, i’m not scared.” she whines when she hears footsteps. Let’s just say she is, not that she’ll admit it.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who swears she’s not flexing when she shows her goosebumps.

“You guys don’t know how clenched my asshole is… AHH!—stupid ass bird!” she shouts when a jumpscare plays. “I got the chills, guys. Look, not even tryna to flex so don’t go in the comment saying that I am.” She pauses the game and promptly lifts the sleeve of her shirt to show the camera her muscles that are practically bulging out — yeah totally not “flexing”.

“You guys see them? The chills that kill.” she says, looking at her arm through the face cam and running her finger along her beefy bicep to point out the nonexistent goosebumps.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who made a challenge for herself to post everyday for a month, but never has accomplished it.

“Guys, I swear on my uncles saggy tits, i’m gonna get this shit done.” She says, running a hand through her hair, seeming determined, yet somewhat stressed about it. Which her fans seem to notice almost instantly, making the comments on that video very sweet. :(

Itsme123: “Hey man don’t overwork yourself, you’re doing great!

Purpleismyfav: “You don’t stress yourself out over a challenge, we’ll always be here!

Gayforelliewilliams: “You got this! We love you, Ellie!

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who starts posting vlogs more often that consist of her making breakfast, working out (which gets deadly amount of views.), her walking around the city she lives in.

Youtuber!Ellie who’s a fucking idiot when recording one of these said vlogs when she unexpectedly meets you, but her first impression does leaves a mark behind!

“Yo, guys, look at this fine ass girl.” she says, pointing the camera towards you before realizing what’s she doing can end with her sitting in a jail cell and almost drops the camera trying to face it towards her again, hoping you didn’t notice her antics, but you did.

The first impression wasn’t great…you immediately came up to her, angry. “Hey, you creep! Why the fuck are you recording me?!” you interrogated.

God, she knew this wasn’t the right time, but the way you yelled at her was so hot. “I’m…Im sorry…I didn’t mean to! I was just recording for my blog, uhm, I’ll cut it out.” her eyebrows furrowed in concern, she felt her face drop, losing its warmth. She didn’t want to come on as a creep who records random women! Even though thats what she was doing in the moment minus the creepy intentions part, but nonetheless that was the last thing she wanted to be!

“Please do!” you frown, and walk away. “The decency on some people!” Ellie can hear you say as you walk off.

A defeated sigh escapes her lips, and she immediately opens her camera again. “Y’all, I messed up my chance with another baddie…” she says with a sad huff.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who’s in bed, days later scrolling on tiktok with her chip coated fingers that leave behind residue stains when she sees a familiar face. Licking her fingers, she pauses the video, and looks at one of the girls being interviewed on what song they were singing to. It was you.

What were the chances of her ever seeing you again? Literally, zilch, but here she is commenting, “Yo, who’s the 4th baddie? 🌝”

It took about ten minutes to get mutliples comments and likes, but she didn’t care, she was looking for you, not the other comments responding to hers saying, “Nooo, my chances with are ruined 💔” or “Ellie’s a simp.”

Until one of her fans did pull through, and @ you.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie’s heart pounding out of her chest as she scrolled through your tiktok. She could feel her cheek becoming warm, just looking through your media, and after a little stalking, she followed you.

When you got the notification, and mutiple tags of people saying this about a girl named ellie? You opened your phone and scrolled through tiktok until.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who got a notification on tiktok that you followed her back. Let’s just say she almost recreated her infamous scene of her falling out of her chair.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who accidentally pressed the “👋👋👋”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who screamed “No!” when she realized she did, and threw her phone across the room.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who was throwing clothes around her already messy room trying to find her phone that she threw after hearing her phone ring.

“Where are you, you fucking—Ahah, Got your ass!” she squeals, and looks at your response, “Hey, you’re that one creep who recorded me, aren’t you?”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who was surprised with how smooth you two were getting acquaint. She obviously asked for your number because she fucking hates texting on tiktok, plus who does that? And you two were actually hitting it off.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who doesn’t immediately want to reveal her career, wanting to be known for her, not for her channel. So when you ask if she was a youtuber, Ellie plays it off smoothly… at least that’s she think…

“So what was with the camera? You have a fetish for fliming random girls?” you voice receiving on her end of the phone, causing her to wince.

“N-No…” she sighs, feeling her face heat up as she thinks of an explaination that doesn’t expose everything.

You couldn’t help, but to laugh, making Ellie’s heart flutter at the sound of it. “You know I’m kidding, right?” She could hear your smile through the phone, making one appear on hers.

“Yeah, no, of course!” she responds quickly, but after curses herself mentally for being so awkward. “Uhm, it was just a project for my film class.”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who did ask you out on a date (finally) and was extremely nervous for it that she sent out a tweet asking for tips on what not to do, but was met with her fans teasing her.

Andrewking101: “Make sure to leave your camera behind!”

Princessbubblegumfan14: “Make sure your flyer is up.”

FinnyDinny101: “Don’t fall out of the chair!”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who trips four times on your date together.

“Youre pretty clumsy.” a giggle can be heard from you which makes Ellie turn even more red.

“Yeah, sorry, you just keep making me fall to my knees.”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who preread her stupid puns book, for just in case.

“Speaking of grapes,” she smirks. “What did the green grape say to the purple grape?”

You smile, already starting laugh. “Uhm, I don’t know, what?”

“Breathe, you idiot!”

Let’s just say your first date was one of many dates that bloomed into something more!

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who was finally came clean on the third date and was extremely nervous to tell you about her career. Since there was a chance you wouldn’t think being a youtuber was a real job, but you took it rather well.

“Ellie, I know that already. Didn’t really take rocket science.” you deadpan, your face too serious for her comfort.

“Oh,” she trails off, looking away as she scratches the back of her neck. “Right…” she whispers, cursing herself for being an idiot.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who accidentally kinda exposes your relationship, a week after of you guys making it official. But she played it cool.

…at least she thinks that.

“Yeah, my girl—“ she stops, accidentally swallowing the food she was chewing when she realize what she was gonna say. “I mean friend likes sushi too.” she says in between coughs.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who turns paler than she is now when she sees pictures surface rather quickly of you two out in public. What did she expect honestly? Her fans are borderline insane and delusional for her, were they not gonna catch on? What made Ellie more scared is the “don’t get a fuck” outfit she had on compared to the outfit you had on. Girl legit looked like a bum holding hands with a goddess, and as usual her fandom did not take it lightly.

Kingpin123: “WHATT YOU GOT A FUCKING GIRL?

Wolfgangnation: This just came in, Ellie Williams from Ellieswolfgang has a girlfriend! I repeat she has a girlfriend!

fleshunger: NOOOO HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! TO OUR KIDS?! 💔

Ellieswife: How did bro get that? LOOKING LIKE THAT 😭

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who has relief when her fans like you, and instead dogged on her for looking like a cat’s hairball, but you assure with many cuddles and love that you’d still love her if she was.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie’s followers finding soon after the reveal of you find Ellie reposting shit like this on TikTok.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who makes tiktok’s like these randomly, and her comments are just as expected.

GamergurlHJ: Oh to be Y/N… 😞

Skibidi1233: Me and who?

Justinbieberfan1294: Stoppp they’re actually so cute I can’t 😭

But also you guys.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who puts you in her vlogs and legit has to cut some of the clips short because it’s full on just her groping and kissing you like goddamn give the girl some breath, ellie!

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who now cannot stop talking about you in every single youtuber video. It’s literally oh, y/n this, y/n that. It’s ridiculous, even her fans in the comment section start a count on the amount of mentions.

FREEPALESTINE: thirty in today’s video, y’all… 😐

Happyveevee: If my girlfriend isn’t like this, i don’t want ‘em. 💯

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who purposefully plays games that you helped program in just to mention you.

“Oh, shit, guys! My girlfriend worked on this game! She so fucking cool, man.” she smiles to herself, knowing damn well she knew.

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie who’s caught being a cutie by yours truly on one of her vlogs at the beach. it goes on like standard blog, the buildup to the now resting point.

The camera pans to ellie on a lawn chair, focused, so focused in fact if you looked closely you’d see the tip of her tongue poking out of her lips ever so slightly. Accompanying her are two remotes, one in hand and another on her lap. Below resting on the sand are two toy construction vehicles; an excavator and a dump truck. The remote in her hands seems to be controlling the excavator since it’s promptly picking and pouring sand on the back of the dump truck, making a miniature ant hill.

You couldn’t help but to snort at her antics which are utterly adorable in your eyes, but your snickering doesn’t go unnoticed, catching the auburnette’s attention. “Hey, are you recording me?” she frowns, intentionally giving you puppy eyes.

You giggle, nodding. “Yup, and you better keep it in the video, or else.” you threaten playfully with a smirk.

“Or else, what?” she retorts playfully, scooping up sand and commanding the machine towards your direction. “Uhh—Ellie, what are you doing?” you raise a eyebrow, but soon get your answer when she pressed a button, promptly making the machine pour its content on your thigh. “Ellie!” you scoff, instinctively lifting your thigh up and accidentally sending the sand all over you. Ellie’s laugh serve as background noise from your muttered curses as you shook all the sand off of you.

On the bright side she kept that part in the video!

YouTuber!Ellie who’sliterally that one audio “I like him. I like that autistic man.”

Imagining Youtuber!Ellie’s fans dogging on her for the way she act with you on camera.

Lilwaynetay: Bro the type to call her “mommy” while giving her this look “🥺”.

NBAstarfan: Bro the type to be at the dinner table with her knife and fork upright and cloth wrapped around her neck.

Not gonna say which one is true…

PREVIOUS PART - SECOND PART

[✶] — PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby

[!] — PLACE AGES AND PRONOUNS IN BIOS, if you have plans to be added to my taglist!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Bang, Bang.

Hi guys!

So this is from this request and it won't be an happy one. It might contain some medical things who aren't right, but I'm not a doctor even if I made some research to write something logical.

Please enjoy and thanks again dear anon for your perfect request ♥

Also no proofreading for now, sorry!

TW : Fight between lover, gun, shooting, bleeding, hospital, coma, sadness and a lot of angst.

Champion’s league finale. You are playing with your team against Barcelona and more specifically your girlfriend’s team. The Spanish are looking for another cup to continue to break all the records, but your team is very motivated to stop them. It would be the first Cup for your club and for you, too. It’s not ideal playing against your girlfriend honestly, but you knew when you start dating that it was a risk to take.

Alexia and you are together for more than two years now, your forever crush becoming reality at a point during the Euro and when Alexia did her ACL. It’s not easy being away from your girlfriend, even if you are playing in Manchester city with some of your national teammates and friends (Laia Aleixandri and Leila Ouahabi).

The game is tough, at the end of the ninety minutes, each team has scored two goals. At the 93 minutes, you manage to take the best on the defender who is marking you, using your full speed after having received a very good pass from Laia. You can hear the crowd screaming, City’s fans encouraging you while Barcelona’s fans are booing. But when you are facing the keeper, you shut everything and send a cannonball in the upper corner of the net. The keeper can’t do anything.

You don’t have time to register that you just scored 1 minute before the end of the adding time, your teammates tackling you on the ground. This is a mix of jersey, hair, hug and pat on the head for several seconds, before the referee ask you to go back to your position to start the game again.

She made you play two minutes more to catch up the time you lost while celebrating, but Barcelona don’t score. Then the whistle resonate in the stadium and you just won the UEFA Champions League. Not knowing how to react, you stay still for many seconds, before someone jump on your back to train you in a group hug.

You don’t stay a long time though, you want to check on Alexia. You easily find your girlfriend sitting on the ground, her jaw clenched. There is no one around her, so you chose to go to see her. You promised each other that you won’t be resentful to the other, whatever the ending of this game is.

So you think nothing more than being a recomfort to your girlfriend when you arrive next to her.

“Hi” you say softly.

You don’t know if Alexia realized your presence before you talk, but the eyes she lays on you aren’t really friendly. But you decide not to stress about it, kneeling next to her to put a comforting hand on her arm.

“You played very well. I’m so proud of you for the way you leaded your team. And this goal was something else.”

You smile, referring to the second goal, a real banger from Alexia. She doesn’t answer anything, so you just continue talking.

“You can be proud of yourself too, you know? You did everything you could and gave all you could. It’s –“

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

Alexia doesn’t look at you when she cuts you, but you can tell how angry she is just with the tone of her voice. You are surprised enough to stay quiet and she continues.

“Don’t act like you have all the merits on this win. Your team is lucky that some girls are injured and that we don’t have our usual team playing tonight. If we had all the players, we would have crush you. Don’t take your win for what it’s not. You are just lucky, this has nothing to do with talent.”

Well, you didn’t expect that. Alexia has always been supportive of you, but more generally she always has been respectful and fair play to her opponents. You realize that there is Leila and Patri standing behind you when Alexia gets up to go somewhere else.

“Alexia.” Patri says in a tone of reproach.

But your girlfriend doesn’t answer anything, still walking to the Barcelona’s bench. You can only look at her leaving, stunned by her reaction. You take Leila’s hand who helps you to get up.

“Don’t listen to her” Patri says before hugging you. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you” you mumble.

Leila hugs you tightly too, not without looking at Alexia with reproach too. After that, the ceremony has a bitter taste for you, to be honest. It can’t be seen on picture, you are smiling between Alanna Kennedy and Laia, raising the cup or kissing it. Or being kissed on the head by Laia.

But in reality, you just want to talk to your girlfriend. She didn’t look at you when she passed between the two lines of your team when she goes to take her silver medals. And then she just went to the locker room, not even watching you raise the cup. It hurts, as much as her words did.

But you try to be understanding, you know how bad your girlfriend deal with the idea of losing anything, probably taking all the mistakes on herself. You manage to catch her, hair down and wet, before she leaves with her teammates to take the bus to go back to her hotel.

“Alexia!” you call her.

You don’t see her sigh and roll her eyes, which is good otherwise you probably will be hurt a little more. She was walking with Irene and Ona and turn around to look at you. You already talked with the two others after the game, so you smile back at them when they smile to you before leaving both of you.

“What do you want?” Alexia says harshly.

You are a little stunned, by the tone of her voice and the question. But you don’t say anything, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your stomach. Alexia never talked to you that way. You almost never fought since you are together.

“Talk to you? Can we at least have some minutes together?”

There is a moment of silence.

“No. I don’t want to talk or see you right now.”

********

The celebrations are strange after that. You make all the efforts you can to keep a smile on your face and not ruin your teammate’s joy. Alanna and Leila are looking at you with intensity and you’re pretty sure that Leila told to Alanna what happened between you and Alexia. But you manage to keep them away from you enough to be able to leave as soon as Kerstin.

You tried several times to call Ale when you go back to your hotel, but she doesn’t answer. You prefer to think that she’s asleep and not ignoring you. You send her a message after that, hopping to have an answer during the night or in the morning.

You didn’t.

The morning after, when you wake up, you realize that there is no message from Alexia. Your social media are full of notifications but nothing from your girlfriend. You haven’t post anything either, not wanting to upset your girlfriend even more.

You were supposed to stay in Paris, where the finale was played, together for two days before going back to Barcelona. But with Alexia not giving you any news, you are really scared that she chose to go back to Barcelona without you.

After reading the list of your friends in the Barcelona’s team, you chose to try to call Ona. You can’t help but smirk when you hear Lucy’s voice instead of the Spaniard. But your friend comes several seconds after, and you are finally able to ask if she has news from Alexia.

You are relieved to learn that she’s still in Paris, and even more when Ona accepts to make you sneak in the hotel. Your plan is to go buy some flowers and chocolate for your girlfriend; this is her guilty pleasure. You discovered that during the first weeks of dating her.

After some research, you chose the best chocolate shop around your hotel and go to it to buy some. You take some time to select them, being sure that Alexia will enjoy every single one of them. When you are happy with it, you pay the box but add a cute white teddy bear sitting next to the cashier. No one seems to recognize you, which you are glad for. Like this you can take all the time you want.

You decide to walk to go to the florist, situated between the chocolate shop and Alexia’s hotel. The weather is great, sunny but not too hot. It’s still hotter than Manchester though.

The florist is very nice, and you look around while she’s serving other people who were already here when you arrived, right now it’s a family with a small girl smiling at you. You love the smell in here. The roses are amazing, and you ask the florist something with red roses in it. You look at her ease to make a wonderful bouquet with amazement.

“Tout le monde les mains en l’air !“

You hear the shout before you see the man, but the sweet florist’s face is suddenly very white. You don’t understand what was told, so you turn around to look what is happening.

There is a man with his face hidden behind a mask who is pointing a gun in your direction. You are glad that the family with the cute toddler left.

“A genoux!”

You don’t understand and you have to look around to know what he’s asking. The other raised their arms and are now kneeling, while you are still standing without moving.

That seems to make the man very mad. When you turn your eyes to him once again, he says something that might be a swear word. Then there is a sound of gunfire and the pain you feel is worst than anything you felt in your life.

You hit your head hard on the ground and suddenly the people around are screaming, but you don’t understand why. They are talking in French, and you have trouble to understand anything. It seems to you that the man got the money he wanted before leaving. The rush in your ears is very unpleasant and when you look at your chest, you realize that there is a big, red spot on your white shirt.

Suddenly there is a woman kneeling next to you, grabbing your face to make you look at her. It’s the florist.

“Hey! We called the ambulance, they are coming, ok? Stay awake, please.”

“I need to call Alexia” you breath, while taking your phone from your pocket.

“OK. I’ll press something on your stomach to stop the bleeding, ok?”

You just nod. Your hands are shaking while you open your phone, and your vision is blur when you look for your girlfriend’s number. It’s not hard to find though, she’s on the top of your list. You let the phone ring for several longs minutes before accepting the fact that Alexia won’t answer.

“She’s maybe still asleep” the girl points.

“No” you whisper shakily. “She’s mad at me. Those were supposed to be gifts for her”

“I’m sure she’ll love it”

You start to have trouble to breath. You close your eyes and try to take a big breath. You start to feel anxious too. Are you going to die without having heard your girlfriend’s voice a last time? Without being able to tell her how much you love her, how much she means for you?

You suddenly feels very tired, you understand what it’s mean. Fighting to open your eyes, you look for the woman’s eyes before talking. It seems like you don’t speak very loud, because she leans on you to understand.

“Will you tell her that I love her? Please. She always meant the world to me and I’m sorry that she’s so upset. Will you tell her?”

The woman’s eyes are wet when she talks to you.

“You will tell her yourself, Sweetheart.”

You know you won’t be able to. So you need her to promise you.

“Please. There are no words strong enough, but I love her more than anything. Will you give her my presents too? I wrote a card with the bear”

Your words are hard to pronounce, but you manage to say every single one of them, being sure to be understand. The woman nods and you feel relieved.

“I’m sure she loves you too.”

The woman cup your face and you decide to believe her. You close your eyes again and let yourself being wrapped by the memories you have with Alexia. The best of your life.

********

Alexia is sitting in a chair, her head in her hands. Everything seems unreal. Her eyes are red from crying, her throat is dry, and her head is pounding painfully. And she wonders if her breathing will be normal again at a moment.

She feels awful.

She was the worst girlfriend in the world for you and you never deserved it. You took the time to find her to talk to her even if you were probably drunk with the adrenaline of the win. You said sweet words to her, took the time to comfort her and she still had this behavior.

To be fair to her, she was really trying to find a way to come back to you to apologize. She was showering when you tried to call her after being shot, not knowing that you already made a plan with Ona to come to her.

Then, she received the worst call of her life. She’s the number one on your emergency calls so the hospital you were transferred to call her as soon as they could. It was three days ago, and she never left this room since.

You had a surgery and when she arrived in your room at first, you weren’t even here. Then they bring you in it and she learned that you probably won’t make it. But it’s been three days, and you are still here, your brain seems to still work correctly, and your heart is still beating.

You lost a lot of blood though and several of your organs got touched by the bullet. You are healing and it’s only because you are an athlete and in a very good shape that you are still alive.

Just when she thought that nothing could get worse, she received a visit that she didn’t except. She frowns at first when a cute girl entered your room with a teddy bear, a chocolate box and flowers. But then the florist explained to her what you ask her to do and that the precise moment where Alexia lost it.

You parents and Alexia’s mother join you in the hospital to be there for you, but for Alexia too. Ale’s mother never managed to get Alexia out of your room. Alexia sleep on the chair, Alexia eats the awful hospital’s food, Alexia takes shower in the bathroom of your room.

Sometimes she cries, sometimes she just looks at you. No one never heard her voice since she’s here. She’s so hurt that she feels like she can’t speak anymore. She only speaks to you when you both are alone. She’s so hurt, too, that she wants to rip her heart of her chest.

Alexia lost track of time, her mother and your parents left several hours ago now, and the sky is dark. The bips from the monitoring are still in the background, but Alexia doesn’t pay attention to them anymore. Unless they are making strange sounds, like yesterday. Your heart was suddenly in great difficulty.

The nurses explain to her after having stabilized you that it’s because your body need a lot to heal, and it could be hard for your heart.

The Spaniard keeps thinking that her behavior probably had hurt your heart so much that she’s responsible of your state. She is wrong of course, even if she was bad after the game, it’s not in any case of her fault.

When Alexia raises her head again to look at you, you are still with your eyes closed, your skin paler than ever. You are Spanish too, you have a natural tan skin, but now you look… ill. Alexia hates it.

“Mi Amor” she whispers while taking your hand in hers, her throat hurts when she talks. “I know you are doing everything you can to heal and come back. You don’t know what your life means to a lot of people here. Your parents, your family, your friends, your fans… Me, of course. But I don’t know if you steel want me after everything that happened. You got hurt because of me.”

If she wasn’t a little shit, you wouldn’t have been in this flower shop. That’s what she shouts to her sister when Alba tried to make her leave your room. Tears are rolling again on her cheeks, and you would probably kiss them if you were awake.

“I am so sorry. I’ll give everything to be at your place. I’m not able to ask it, but please come back. I need you so much. I don’t know how I am supposed to continue without you. You weren’t at Barcelona, but it’s seems like you are everywhere every time. Everything makes me think about you. I need you. Please. I’m so sorry.”

Alexia lost her father several years ago and it was heartbreaking, of course. Her father was her model when she was younger. Her guide. But you, you are the love of her life and she is convinced that she won’t survive your lost.

“Take the time you need to heal and then I’ll do everything for you to forgive me.”

Tears are rolling freely on her face, but she doesn’t care anymore since a very long time. She rather kisses your hand, relieved to feel the warm of your skin on her lips. Alexia frowns slightly while looking at your fingers though. They had to remove the ring you were usually wearing on your finger; the one Alexia offered you for your one year together. Alexia wears it around her neck on her chain, her fingers being too big to wear it on her finger.

“I love you. I’ll stay with you every second until you wake up.”

She means it and she did it. Even when they were other games played, she never left your side. They talked about transferring you in England, where you live, but Alexia refused, and your parents agreed with her. They never doubt about the love Alexia had for you; you never hide from them how good Alexia treated you during your time together.

You weren’t really aware of that to be honest. You were somewhere over the rainbow, far away from your girlfriend and the one you love. Even if it isn’t the case for Alexia, it’s better for you. Seeing Alexia’s distress would probably break you. You sometimes feel lighter, but you like to think that it’s the time when Alexia takes your hand or kiss it.

********

“We would like to make her try to breath without monitoring. We need to see if she’s able to breath alone.”

“No.”

Alexia’s answer is harsh and cold, but her mother puts a hand on her shoulder to calm her. Your mother is more diplomatic about her answer.

“Isn’t it risky?”

“Everything is risky” the doctor says, trying to ignore Alexia’s glare. “But her organs are better, and we need to revise her treatment. We will stop the monitoring for an hour, and we will check her oxygen constantly during the process.”

“What if she stops breathing?” Alexia asks.

“The chances are very rare. In fact,…”

“What. If. She. Stops. Breathing.”

Your father smirks when your girlfriend talks again, carefully articulating each of her words with cold anger. He always loved Alexia and he probably loves her even more right now.

“We will put her back on monitoring and try something else.”

Alexia snorts and crosses her arms on her chest. She hates that idea; she hates the idea that they are putting you in danger without any reason. She doesn’t say that it’s bullshit just because her mother is here and she is always careful about the words she chooses when Eli is around.

“I won’t leave her side a single second” she rather informs your medical team.

She doesn’t when they try, her eyes being on the screen with the indicator of your oxygen in your body or on your chest, watching it raise every single time. When one hour is passed and you are still breathing normally, she feels a little better. The medical team decided to let you like this for now, wanting to see if you can make the night.

The night pass and you are still breathing. Then a whole day.

“I’m so proud of you” Alexia whispered against your forehead before kissing it softly.

She explained to her mother how she treated you the next time you saw her, the guilt was eating her alive. Her mother didn’t try to tell her that she’s wrong to feel that way, Eli agreed with Alexia about how bad she was. She nevertheless comforts her daughter with words she knew were true. She remembers to Alexia how much you love her and that you still went to grab her presents before wanting to come to her.

Three days without monitoring and you are still breathing like you are peacefully sleeping. They are still feeding you with your catheter but other than that you don’t need anything to be alive.

Everything was fine and that’s why she panicked when you start to whine suddenly. Hands shaking, she jumps from her chair looking around before pressing the button to call the nurses. She doesn’t know what she managed to say, but the nurses start to talk way to fast in French, one of them taking her phone to call the doctor.

“What is happening?” Alexia asks, her breath almost impossible to take.

“We need you to leave the room for a little time” one of the nurses asks her.

“No way!”

“Alexia…”

Eli’s voice makes her daughter looks around, but the blond doesn’t move. She just shakes her head, informing every single person in the room that she won’t leave you. Bad or good news, she will be here. She needs to be here.

The three women don’t have the time to convince Alexia a little longer, because the doctor suddenly comes into your room, talking in French too and Alexia wonders if she will explode from frustration soon.

She sees several monitors coming into your room too and when your mother-in-law comes to your girlfriend to pass her arms around her shoulder, Alexia looks at her with lost eyes.

“Is that it? Is she dying?” she whispers.

Eli feels her heart break, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t know. She just cups her daughter’s face and keep her face on her chest. Eli doesn’t move when Alexia grip her arms pretty hard, tightening her daughter even closer to her, trying to protect your girlfriend from another lost.

The next minutes were agonizing for your girlfriend, and she can’t open her mouth when the doctor comes next to her. She doesn’t understand all the bip from the different monitors around you. She doesn’t know if you are still alive or not.

“She is ok” he says at first, having learn to understand Alexia through the days, and your girlfriend feels like she might faint from relieving. “I think she is trying to wake up. The next hours will be decisive.”

After that, Alexia sits even closer to your face to have a better look at you. Every night her mother goes back to the house Alexia rent for her and your family so they can be close to you.

She hasn’t sleep since more than twenty-seven hours when you move again. But this time you open your eyes and look around. You seem scared, your eyes looking around you.

“Sh Bébé, can you hear me?” Alexia whispers after having regained some composure.

Her hand is on your face, soft like a feather. She manages to calm you quickly and you nod very softly. Alexia sees it anyway.

“You are at the hospital. You are safe, ok? Just try to breath a little slowly.”

You keep looking at her, trying your best to calm yourself. You don’t know how many minutes have passed before you swallow your saliva and open your mouth.

“No. Don’t talk. Keep your energy, ok?” Alexia whispers again.

As your memories come back, you are relieved to see that Alexia is by your side. She looks like she hasn’t sleep or eat in the last two weeks, but you don’t leave her face with your eyes, even when she moves to let the doctor and nurses check several things on you.

You tiredly let them do what they want with you and Alexia never left you with her eyes either. She watches the medical team to be sure they are doing things right with you. When they talk to you in English, you are way to tired to understand what they are saying. Luckily, your girlfriend is here to translate in Spanish.

“They want to know if you are hurt somewhere. Don’t shake your head, just close your eyes two times if you are hurt and one if you are ok.”

You blink slowly one time. You are not hurt, you are tired. Your answer seems to relieve everyone around and you close your eyes to rest when they are talking in English again. Alexia answers something and you trust her to make things right. They are talking for several minutes before the silence is here again.

You open your eyes suddenly, scared that Alexia has left too. But she’s here, typing on her phone, informing your parents and family that you are awake. She seems surprised to see you watching her when she puts her phone down.

“I thought you fall back asleep” she says softly, turning her body to look at you. “Do you want to drink?”

You blink once and she almost run to get you a glass of water from the bathroom. If you were able, you probably have laugh at her. You hope to have a little of water in your mouth can help you to talk. Alexia uses the buttons of the bed to make you seat and is very careful in every of her move to help you drink.

“They said a little bit at time”

You oblige and the feeling is amazing honestly. You look at your girlfriend and you focus on your sentence before talking, not wanting to waste any energy.

“Did you get my presents?”

Your voice is awful, but it’s not a surprise. You don’t really know since when you are here, without talking. But you need to know.

Alexia turns in your direction and suddenly her eyes are wet with tears and her hands are shaking.

“I did. That sweet girl came in here to give them to me the first day. The flowers are here” she points them. “Thank you, even if you shouldn’t needed to get me any of this. We will talk about it later, but Y/N/N I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. You are the sweetest and most perfect girl in the world. And I love you more than anything.”

“Alexia…”

She puts her finger on your lips, putting you in silence.

“Keep your energy for when your parents are coming.”

You roll briefly your eyes and for the first time in weeks, Alexia smiles. Not her sometimes awkward smile, who makes you think about that Friend’s episode where Chandler is supposed to smile for his engagement’s pictures. You always teased her about it.

“I love you more than anything too” you whisper when she takes her finger back. “Stay with me?”

“Of course I will”

You don’t know that she never left your side since you are here. Just like her mother several hours ago, she cups your face with extra care before stroking your hair. Right to her words, Alexia never left you for a second and wait for you to be able to go back to Barcelona for your recovery.

********

Several Months Later.

“What would you think about me coming to play in England?”

In shock, you spit out the pudding you were innocently eating. Like every morning since your hospitalization, Alexia and you are talking over FaceTime while you are eating your breakfast. Like always, Alexia just came back from her morning jogging and is eating her breakfast too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask, the choc passed.

“Me playing in Manchester? I really want to be close to you. I hate being so far away from you and being able to have you in my arms only for two weeks every two months.”

You probably are dreaming or hallucinating. You look at your girlfriend on your screen like if you were waiting for her to tell it’s only a joke. That’s what you are waiting, to be honest.

“Alexia, you will die in the English weather” you point. “And they are eating pudding and beans on a toast for breakfast here, I don’t know how you would survive.”

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes – just like she hates you do – and seems suddenly to find her tortilla very interesting.

“Don’t you want me there with you?” she asks with insecurity.

Since you got shot, you sometimes have the impression that she’s just waiting for you to break up with her. Something you will never do, how in the world are you supposed to live without your reason to breath?

“That’s not the point Cariño” you assure her with a smile. “I would love to be able to wake up every morning next to you.”

“What is it then?”

She’s almost pouting and you want to squeeze her cheeks with your hands.

“There is something I haven’t talked to you about.”

She looks panicked when she raises her eyes on your, turning your head back on you so quickly that you wonder if she hurts herself.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad, ok?” you begin, starting to eat your porridge again. “But I might have received an offer from Barcelona. I haven’t talk to you about yet because I wanted to be sure that it’s a real offer and that they are serious about it. City seems ok with me coming back to Barcelona, but nothing is signed for now.”

“Do you want it? Coming back?”

You look at your girlfriend thoughtfully. You understand where this question comes from, Alexia just wants to be sure that you are not doing things for her, but for you and your career.

“I miss Barcelona. I miss the Spanish weather, I miss my family… Sure I’ll miss Laia and Leila and the RFEF is still shit, but I want to give it a try.”

“Ok” Alexia smiles.

You can see that she’s thinking about something, but you don’t pressure her to talk. You know that it will comes when she will be ready. You finish your breakfast, talking about everything and nothing while Alexia looks at you from the corner of her eyes. The thoughts haunting her mind come out loud several minutes later.

“Are you going to go back to your parent’s?”

“Like living with them?” you raise an eyebrow before continuing when Alexia nods. “No, of course not. I’m 24 years old, I’m way to old to live with my parents again” you laugh softly. “Why?”

“I was thinking that there’s enough room in my closet for both of us. If you want it.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you smile tenderly.

“Yes, if you want to?”

“I would love it, Ale.”

______________________________________________________________

To be honest with you I wanted to make R died but I can't stand a sad Alexia.

[kittyhui]

exes to lovers! seungcheol x reader

!!MDNI!!

[seungcheol ended your five year long relationship seemingly out of nowhere, leaving you heartbroken. two years after your breakup, you release your solo album, song written about the heartbreak you felt. now, seungcheol is trying to get your love back]

cw: idol x idol, angst w/ comfort, semi public sex, not grammar checked well😭

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I think we should break up” is all Seungcheol says to you, sad in his eyes.

He walks out of your apartment, not staying to listen to your cries and pleads, asking for an explanation on why he was so suddenly doing this. He was a completely different person from the last time you saw him; his love-filled eyes replaced with cold and sad ones.

You tried to contact him multiple times after that; calls and messages never answered, leaving you and your heart shattered, your members having to pick up the pieces. A five year old relationship gone in a flash, without a reason, without even a thought of why. Did i do something wrong? Did he grow tired? Was there.. someone else? The situation hurt you so badly, that even fans could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was a secret from fans and from your company, save from the members. Your performance during promotions were off and it took you almost a full year to get back on your game, taking a hiatus at one time because it was just so bad. but you were feeling better now. It’s now past your two year breakup anniversary, and though you think about the good times of your old relationship, you weren’t consumed with grief anymore. You felt much better, better than ever. Better enough to release your first solo album, songs written from that time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[interviewer] So, What was the thought process behind this album?

[Y/N] All these songs are a part of a giant collection of songs while i was going through a lot of feelings haha. Most of these were my inner thoughts and feelings that I couldn't express to anyone else so I wrote them out. they’ve only now came out because I was finally confident in myself and these songs after years and my members helped build my courage to share them with you all.

[Interviewer] I’m happy that you were finally able to overcome your fears with your songs.

[Y/N] Thank you so much

[Interviewer] Do you think you could go more in depth about the song meanings?

[Y/n] Yea, of course. The first song on the album can be interpreted in multiple ways in my opinion. When I wrote this, I was thinking about someone I loved truly. I wrote this wishing that the way they ended it could’ve been that we just fell out of love. I wanted us to be tired of each other, to just want it to be over and so I wrote this point of view wishing this was the reality, even though I knew how much I still loved them. It’s very sad and kinda pathetic but yea haha.

For the second track, I wrote this because in this same relationship, the way we broke up was so rushed and I was not ready for it. I felt like they didn’t even feel anything towards me anymore and it broke me down so much. By the end of the song, I kinda accept it as the end and try to let them go.

Ah~ This third track was actually wrote when i was first in that relationship. We were both falling hard and fast and I had to let it out in a way. I can’t really explain more.

[Interviewer] And lastly, the fully english track?

[Y/N] This one really talks about how even if I’ll be in another relationship in the future, I’ll only think about and try to find them in the other person. I wrote this the latest out of all of them. I knew I was still in love with this person even though it’s been years since the breakup but I know I’ll always see them as my first and only love even if they don’t see me the same way.

[Interviewer] These are all truly beautiful songs

[Y/N] Thank you

[Interviewer] We just have a few more questions before we say goodbye today. Firstly, You said these songs were in a collection of other songs, will you release the rest of them as well?

[Y/N] Maybe, I’m surprised I got away making this album so hopefully I can push my companies limits a tad more.

[Interviewer] Next question, This relationship you sing about seemed really intense. Was it a long one?

[Y/N] Yea, It dont think I can go into too many details but it was a pretty serious relationship. When it ended, I took it very hard. I liked them for a long time before too so it was rough haha

[Interviewer] Last question, Because you produce and write songs for your group, Have you ever wrote about this relationship in those songs?

[Y/N] Honestly I couldn’t tell you. I try not to because I’m still not the best about this relationship I was in but it’s probably slipped in a few songs unfortunately haha

[Interviewer] Thank you so much for coming onto my show today!

[Y/N] I’m honored to be asked here for an interview, thank you. I’d also like to say thank you to my fans and anyone else who is listening in! Please enjoy my new album!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Needless to say, your interview was seen by alot of people. Neitzens have been picking it apart since it came out, speculating on the mystery person you were talking about. Your fans were both happy for you and angry for you; ready to fight the person who broke your heart. Though the publicity was great for your album sales and streams, the constant news was really tiring now, especially now that you were promoting at music shows. Music shows that your ex, S.Coups of Seventeen, was also promoting at with his group. Singing a song about your heartbreak in the same place of the person who hurt you so bad, was awkward to say the least. The waiting room of the music show was the worst. passing by him and his group makes your heart pound. His eyes follow you when you pass by each other. you try not to meet his eyes. Your heart just couldn’t handle it. Your still wanted him yet you hated him at the same time. You wanted to kiss him again but also wanted to hit him. The last conversation you both had together was him breaking up with you. He hurt you so badly yet you yearned for him.

So when he approached you before your performance, you felt conflicted.

“Y/n?” The familiar voice fills your ears and you look up at the man standing infront of your sitting figure.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing” You didn’t actually think he would speak to you again, but here he was.

“Can we- can we talk?” He pauses, licking his lips nervously “I know you probably never want to speak to me ever again but I just want a second of your time.”

“You really have horrible timing. I going on stage in a few minutes. Please don’t do this now. You had two years to talk about this,” You look away from his, glancing to the side “We can talk.. after the music show is over. Don’t expect too much, though” You stand and walk to the stairs of the stage and he sighs, agreeing to meet later on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music show ends entirely too quickly for your liking, leg bouncing nervously in your dressing room and when you hear a knock at the door you know it’s Seungcheol. You open the door, the man in front of you quickly walking in and closing the door again.

“Y/n..” He sighs

“Seungcheol,” You try to sound disinterested but inside you just want to hug him. “Please just say what you have to say”

“I just want to say I’m so sorry for the way I ended things. I know I hurt you beyond belief and it hurts that I hurt you. I watched your interview and.. god.. I care about you so much.. I never wanted to break up with you but I had to..” His eyes brim with tears and he lets out a haggard breath.

“Then why did you? Five years, Seungcheol. I loved you for five years, hell, I still love you after what you did, but, just why? I felt like I wasted all those years for nothing. I want to marry you… I wanted to have everything with you.. You were my first everything and you hurt me like I was nothing..” You were choking on your tears at this point, the salty liquid pooling in you lips “You were more than just a boyfriend to me, Seungcheol. You were the love of my life.”

“Y/n.. I.. I didn’t break up because I wanted to.. your company found out.. they threatened your career if I didn’t break up with you.. I tried to convince them to let us be, but they were persistent and my company was pressuring me as well.. I shouldve fought for you more.. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you what was happening but… I was a coward. I never stopped loving you, y/n.. You’re the love of my life too. I had every intention of being with you until the day I died, and I want to fight for you now even though I didn’t before.”

The shock of what he said lingers in your mind. You look at him without saying anything. He sat down next to you, letting you process his words. After some time you finally spoke.

“I dont know what to say,” You start “I believe you even though that means my company did this too me but.. I dont know. I want to forgive you. I want you, Cheol. I want you to be in my life again. but it took me so long to recover from this. I dont know if we’ll ever be what we were before,” He looks down at his feet in defeat “But we can try..” He looks up at you again, eyes brightening.

He finally smiles, “You dont understand how badly I missed you…” He hugs you tightly before looking into your eyes and then looking down at your lips “can I..” You nod slowly, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

He kisses your lips with hunger, holding on to you for fear you might run away “Missed you.. Misses your touch.. ‘m so sorry, my love” He pushes you flat on the couch you were sitting on, kissing you face and neck with desire. He missed this so much. “I love you, baby. Please let me make you feel good.. Love you..” You whine at his words, hips grinding up at his.

“l-love you too, Cheolie.. Please.. Need you so bad” Your hands move up and down his clothed back. “Please..missed you too” He kisses you quickly, breaking away to remove the both of your clothes.

“Just a gorgeous as I remember,” He mutters under his breath. You can feel his hard member on your stomach, moaning at the anticipation of having him after so long. “Need to be inside you so bad, baby”

“mhm please, cheolie..“ You pull him closer, begging him to do anything.

“shhh, ill take care of you, baby.” he coos at you, finally pushing in, “shit- so tight.. you feel so good baby” he brushes the hairs out of your face, kissing your forehead gently. “So good for me, my love”

“Please move- Please I need it. Cheolie- Needed this so bad” You sob as he finally starts to roll his hips into yours, groans falling from his mouth.

“God- y-you’re too good, baby. Am I making you feel good, hm?” He fucks into you faster, rougher, breathlessly calling out your name into your ear.

“yes yes makin’ me feel so good- gonna cum soon” You hips rut into his, determined to make both of you cum.

“b-baby” He pushes your hips back into the couch, “Be good- i’ll let you cum, promise…” He breathes out hot breath, eyes blown wide as he pounds into you; your heat sucking him in dangerously. “Cum for me please, need you to cum, baby.”

Your desperation for each other was unmatched and you were sure that the people walking past your dressing room can hear the obscene noises coming from it, but you could care less. The pleads for more came out if your mouth like a ritual and Seungcheol knew you were close. One of his hands grip your own, telling you to cum, and what else can you do when his cock twitches inside of you so deliciously. You cry out his name once more before cumming hard. Feeling you pulse around him, he fills you up with spurts of his hot cum in you. “Fuck, did you so good, my love. I love you so much” He breathes out, pecking your lips once again.

You look into his eyes, dazed, and welling with tears again. His happy demeanor changes ones again. “Hey. Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong? Did i do something?” He looks you up and down, checking for injuries. Making sure he didn’t fuck this up again.

“No- i just- i just missed you so much, Cheolie,” you cry out. “Love you so much..” His arms are around you before you can even say another word. He murmurs I love you’s into your ears, kissing the tears rolling down your face.

“I love you too, baby. let’s go home hm?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: these are the songs i used as reference for the solo album songs:

1. Can’t Love You Anymore - IU

2. Goodbye - OOHYO

3. Fallin’ - Yoon Hyun Sang

4. Glimpse of Us - Joji

this was so spur of the moment #loveit

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

[luvyeni]

THE DEMON IN MY MIRROR • PARK JONGSONG

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jay x fem!reader wc. 4.7k+

𓄷 warnings... jay is half human. mentions of a curse. jay is guiding her in her head. exhibition kink? mutual masturbation. oral ( m. reciveing ). unprotected sex.

nia's notes: jay is done ,, the series is almost over 😔,, the last chapter is next 🖤!!!

sunghoon | lucifer masterlist | ending

With a loss of light I fall , like a Lucifer…

Your little warmth , a ray of light that brightens my world…

Just like that two months had flown by; every single day had been a whirlwind of craziness— you and jake spending even more time together; having him help you clear out more stuff in the house, even helping bring in some of the new furniture your parents had delivered— which also led to six hours of you both straight arguing about the usage of instructions, eventually going to sunghoon , who even though was annoyed that you would bother him with something so trivial did it anyway.

speaking of sunghoon; things did get better between the two of you; he slowly but surely came to the conclusion that you in fact weren't like your grandmother and weren't gonna force him to hurt anybody; he became much nicer, yeah he would still like to act annoyed whenever you called for him; but that never stopped him from coming.

then it was the sex; it did take some time to get used to having sex with one demon; let alone two demons; two with different personalities. jake was always on the more softer side; sometimes borderline subby— but sunghoon; sunghoon was never on the soft side, he was in control , that's how he wanted it, and that's how you liked it.

the three of you eventually crossed the line into having sex all together; it first happened one day when you invited kai over— they really didn't like that; but you had promised kai another date, and you wanted to cook for him. that meant jake and sunghoon had to go into hiding; they for sure hated that. then when kai went to kiss you for the night; leaving— that was the last straw for the both of them.

that night; it ended up with both of them taking turns, fucking you; using your body for their pleasure. it was hot, sunghoon was his usual rough self; but even jake was rough, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as they pumped loads of your cum inside of them. that was the first time; after that it was basically free game, some days you'd just have sex with one of them, but there were some days you'd want both of them, or vice versa.

spending your days with both of them; the summer months slowly coming to an end, the questions hanging in the air everyday—what would you do when it was time for you to leave? you thought about the question everyday, so much the boys even listened in for it, sunghoon eventually trying to tune it out. “I don't want to hear your internal battle , think about something else.” is what he would always say. Jake on the other hand , would get sad every single time, you'd comfort him, telling him you'd make the right decision.

then it was the obvious elephant in the room; well the demon who doesn't show himself; jay— after confirming that it was him who shown himself in the mirror you were sure he'd eventually show himself, but he never did; but it was like you could feel his presence even though you didn't know him, you knew he was there, and he knew you knew.

jay; much like sunghoon hated your grandmother, but if he liked one thing about her, as a young girl she was just as vain and cold as she was as a elder woman, and loved to buy mirrors and placing them all around the house just to stare at herself— it annoyed him, watching her just stare at herself whenever she walked by, sometimes jay just wanted to shatter the glass; he hated what she made sunghoon do, but what could he do, he was a prisoner just like sunghoon; matter fact he was a prisoner much longer than sunghoon.

his liking for the mirrors came with you, you never really stopped to look at the mirrors, but he would catch glimpses of you, when you walked around the house the first night looking in all the rooms; when you first met jake, he was looking in the mirror, chuckling at how jake would stutter, and you tried to get away; he told jake not to startle you, but he knew his brother couldn't help it. He was pissed when Sunghoon tried to lure you into the wrong tunnel. He was the one who let jake know what his other brother was doing; he could have rescued you, but he let jake do it; he just stuck to watching you.

he didn't mean to look into the bathroom mirror; he was just looking through each mirror, hoping to get another glimpse of you that day; noticing you were naked , he quickly gave you the privacy you deserved, but he knew you had seen him; maybe a small part of him wanted you see him; he wanted it to be you; the first person to see him in 200 years.

jay was falling for you much like his brothers; sunghoon too, even if he swore he would never fall for you— and he knew your time was coming up, and he knew you had a decision to make, and regardless of the decision you make he wants to meet you formally once, even if he knew it could be his first and last time.

“it's been 200 years, he's probably just shy.” jake said, sunghoon snickering, watching the show, shoving food down his throat; no he didn't need it , he just like making a mess, leaving you and jake to clean. “maybe he hates you.” your mouth hung open and jake threw a pillow at him. “he doesn't hate you, he doesn't even know you, sunghoon you aren't helping.” then demon shrugged. “just saying the only time he saw you was through a mirror.”

“well why'd he stop coming out in the first place?” you asked. “I don't know.” Jake said, but you didn't buy it. “im serious, don't lie to me right now.” sunghoon groaned. “you two are annoying, look jay is a reserved person, no one knows why he stopped coming out , he just did.” sunghoon said, you both stared at him. “and if I take the necklace, you sure there's not a way I can leave him here?” you said , he glared. “no , sadly he comes with it as well.” Jake said. “haha , Jake won't save you later.” and with that he disappeared. “he's gonna hurt me one day isn't he?”

“kill you? no he's way passed that? but i can't be to certain that your mouth won't get your walking abilities put on pause for a few days, which could be bad for you.” you nodded. “I'm willing to take that chance, I like seeing him get upset.”

‘stupid fucking sunghoon’ is what you thought limping into the bathroom, looking in the mirror, your neck covered in bruises and marks from him practicing trying to suck the skin off your neck; grumbling curse words under your mouth. “I told you.” Jake yelled from your bedroom. “Jake, I will take this necklace off.” his eyes widened. “why would you even joke like that?” he whined. “You know I'm sensitive about it.” you shook your head. “my god for a demon you surely do have the emotions of a human still.”

looking for your concealer that sat on the counter, trying to cover it up. “i have to go out today.” you whined. “sunghoon!” you shouted. “he won't come out.” Jake said. “he took my concealer, i know he did.” you cursed at him. “he's the one stealing my stuff , I know he is.” you said. “yeah cause im stealing your things and not the one you found in your closet.” you heard his voice. “hey , I didnt take anything.” Jake argued. “yeah and why are her pink panties under your pillow?” you shook your head hearing Jake trying to defend himself, and sunghoon mocking him.

ignoring them both , you continue on with what you were doing; checking the bruises on your neck. “guess I’ll pick up some more concealer.” you said to yourself— then you see it; in your peripheral vision, written in the fog. ‘hi’ you furrow your eyebrows. “jake, sunghoon are you too playing around, stop drawing on the mirrors.” you realize how crazy that sounded, so did they. “why the fuck would I do such childish things?” you heard sunghoon say. “it's not me.” Jake said.

then you saw it with your own eyes; slowly words showed up in the mirror. ‘its not them’— you look around confused, looking back into the mirror. “it's you isn't it?” and then you see him in the mirror; and you remember the face immediately. “I'm jay.” the one you swore you'd never see; right in front of you with all his beauty. “not too bad yourself.” he smirked; he was reading your mind as well. “You're actually even more beautiful now that I can see you and not just through glimpses of you walking past a mirror.

“well maybe if you came out you could actually see me.” he nods. “You are right, not yet though.” he said; you tilted your head to the side. “not yet princess , when the time is right.” he said. “I'll see you real soon; just needed good glimpse of you today.” he smiled. “but— he's coming.” he was gone , you looked confused. “the hell is wrong with you?” sunghoon standing behind you. “I think I just met jay.” you said , looking back into the mirror; huffing at the mirror; ‘sunghoon, concealer, trash.” spinning around. “you asshole, you threw my concealer in the trash.”

“stop throwing things in the cart.” you scolded jake. “i swear it was him , unless you have another demon brother I don't know about.” sunghoon studied the food. “these cannot be that healthy.” you sighed. “Why did you guys come anyway?” you asked. “No fucking help.”

“yn?” you saw kai approaching you, sunghoon holding your waist, Jake glaring at the boy. you bump the boy in front with the cart. “hi kai.” you smiled, he returned the gesture. “i see your cousin is back.” he pointed to sunghoon. “nice to see you again.” sunghoon rolled his eyes. “and who is this?” jake spoke up. “I'm jake.” Kai nodded, his eyes lowering to where sunghoon's hands rested. “I'm not her cousin.” he said. “yeah we're her— they're my close family friends, they came back to help me with my grandmothers house.” he nodded, looking at the bruises on your neck , and then back at sunghoon, who grip got tighter. “oh , okay.” he frowned , finally getting sort of a sense of what was going on. “i have to go stock the shelves, I'll see you soon , hopefully before you leave.” he quickly walked away, you glared at the boys. “seriously?”

“did you come here just to intimidate him?” sunghoon removed his arm. “you did , both of you?” Jake gave you that smile, that got him out of everything. “i can't , I'm gonna go talk to him and apologize.” sunghoon stopped you. “doesn't matter now.” he said , cold as always. “yeah but he deserves an explanation.” you said. “he'll find a pretty girl and marry soon anyway.” he said. “and you can see the future.” you said, he looked at you. “i've got to learn to stop asking questions.”

“and why do I have to carry all these backs.” Jake struggled behind you. “because sunghoon I expect this , he won't ever change , but you jake I expect more.” you said, he pouted. “it wasn't my idea.” he mumbled. “did I put a gun to your head?” sunghoon said. “You're not in the clear , put them up.” you started up the steps , the boy glared , standing up. “I told you about telling me what to do.” you smiled, knowing he had no choice. “yeah well I had to pay 8 dollars for a new concealer so.”

making your way into your room , pushing the door open; your eyes immediately going to the mirror that sat in front of the bed, was he there? walking over , looking inside it. “are you there?” you knocked on the mirror; no answer. “Was I really going crazy earlier?” you start to question yourself. “ugh! these damn marks.” you groaned, seriously thinking about putting that boy on a sex ban. “That's gonna piss him off even more.”

your eyes lit up wide upon hearing the voice, you stood up and there he was; no he wasn't in the mirror, he was standing behind you. “turn around.” you turned around, facing him. “you were looking for me,” he smiled. “in-in the mirror.” you stuttered. “Oh, would you like me to go back?” he asked. “no.” you said, you thanked god for sending you three beautiful men, whatever you did in your past life , you hope to do it again. he smirked, his hand coming up to your cheek, his warm touch. “not god baby.”

His aura was different; he didn't seem like sunghoon or jake, you could tell they were human, because they still possessed certain human traits; jealousy being one of course. “i can hear what you're thinking,” he said. “human turned demons are pretty jealous, but demons who were born as demons are worse.” he said , his hand holding your jaw. “i get jealous all the time , watching them interact with you.” he said. “watching them fuck you, I love my brothers and I know you're ours to share.” his hands tighten just a bit. “But I can't help it , it's in my nature.”

he heard your heartbeat quickening, your face heating up in his hand, the smell of your scent about to set him off; not yet though. “Why did you only show yourself to me in the mirror?” you asked once he let your face go , his hands resting on your waist. “because I needed confirmation,” he said. “What is that?” you asked. “if you really were ours.” he said , his nose was so close to yours. “and?” he nodded. “I'm here aren't I?”

“jay?” jake was the one who broke the obvious sexual tension. “oh shit she really wasn't losing her mind, I thought she was.” sunghoon sat on the bed. “200 hundred years , and she's the one to pull you from the depth of your hellish like room.” Jay's eyes were trained on you. “He's serious I see.” Sunghoon said. “Should we give you some privacy, can't say Jake won't be listening though , we all know he's a perv.” Jake was about to defend himself once again when Jay turned to both of them. “no , I'll come back,” he said, turning back to you. “I'll see you soon princess.” and just like that he was gone. “You must really be something special.” Jake said, you smiled, your face still hot.

‘even though he said he didn't need it , he surely slept like he needed it’ you groan, hearing jake snoring next to you; something he did now so he never had to leave— but he slept like he'd taken 40 melatonin's; and the ache in between your legs prevented you for going to sleep. you tried calling for sunghoon; he ignored you the first three times , before telling you to go to bed in your head, which annoyed you.

After much deliberation with yourself, you decided that you weren't gonna get any sleep unless you got off; so here you were , Jake next to you as your hands traveled in between your shorts, rubbing yourself through your drenched panties. you bit your lip, whimpering as you drew lazy figure eights on your sensitive clit. “now I know that's not doing much, is it?” you heard a voice; not jake's, he was still sound asleep. “In the mirror baby.”

It was jay; he was looking at you through the mirror again— he was looking at you pleasuring yourself, you were about to pull your hand out, embarrassed he heard and saw you. “did I say stop?” you could hear his voice in your head. “keep going , I want to watch you play with your little clit.” his words made you moan. “take the blanket off; your little shorts too, I wanna see your pretty pussy.”

moving the blanket off of you , sliding your shorts down your legs. “good girl, open your legs.” spreading your legs, the air hitting your heat. “so wet, you're dripping all over the sheets baby , keep touching your clit , get your pussy even wetter.” you could hear him groan. “fuck i should've fucked you earlier, told them to leave just so I could have you all to myself.” he moaned; was he touching himself? “fuck yes I'm touching myself, you think I'd just help you out baby.” you moaned. “J-jay.”

“moaning my name and I'm not even physical there , nasty girl.” he said. “use those fingers, two of them.” he said, two of your digits pressing against your hole. “good , now stuff your pussy with your fingers.” it wasn't a much of a stretch, but it still made you moan out in pleasure. “fuck your pussy is so tight , can't wait to stretch you open with my cock.” he said. “my cock is getting harder just thinking about it.”

you tried to imagine what his dick looked like , how it would feel. “soon princess, soon I'll stuff you full of my cock.” he groaned again. “fu-fuck jay I'm gonna cum.” You moaned , you could hear him moaning. “fu-fuck me too.” he said. “cum all over those finger.” you covered your mouth , almost letting out a scream as you came. “fuck you're so sexy, next time it's not gonna be in your pretty head -fuck- I'm gonna make you cum with my cock.” he grunted. “fuck I'm cumming!”

your eyelids grew heavier, sleep ready to consume you. “Good girl, get some rest.” you heard him say. “good night jay.” you said out loud. “goodnight princess.” you heard him say in your head, just before letting the sleep consume you.

“right next to me.” Jake said the next morning; sunghoon ready to be sent back to hell just to get away from the boys complaining. “you got off right next to me, while I slept, I don't even need sleep , I sleep because of you.” he said. “and this is how you repay me , you masturbate with jay right next to my body.” he said. “Jake , it just kinda happened , plus you sleep like you were drugged.” sunghoon spoke up. “and this is nothing, you'd be surprised what we've done while you were sleeping.” you let them argue over that for a while— the question looming over your head seeming more and more clear , but you still weren't sure yet.

“jesus girl I thought you were dead.” yeji said. “Did you find some new summer dick up there and forget that you have friends back here.” you laughed. “not exactly.” you said. “god , I only talked to you like 3 times and it's been 2 months , leave me hanging like that again and I'm calling for a wellness check.” she scolded. “I'm serious.” you let your friend go on and on about all the updates you missed. “fucking tina is already complaining about work , like girl it's a paid internship and your spot of confirmed at the company.” you laughed. “yeah , thats cause she's fucking the CEO.”

“Which is crazy, but can't blame her.” you agreed. “But now to the serious topic.” she said. “Who is giving it to you , cause girl I can practically hear the glow dripping off of you.” you rolled your eyes, if only you could her , you would but she'd never believe; she might even push that wellness check to now. “do I need someone to fuck me in order to be happy?” you try to defend. “Girl, given that you sound like you hate life 24/7, yes, so tell.” she said. “no one.” you said. “Well whatever vibrator you have , I need it.”

She eventually talked herself until she was tired , letting you go. “one more month and we'll be together soon.” you said. “Of course and then we'll start our life together and have beautiful babies and get married.” you laughed. “yeah , many many babies.” you said. “don't go crazy up there girl , I'll talk to you soon.” she said before hanging up.

getting ready for the night; the boys doing whatever the two demons did when they weren't bothering you; you took a long hot shower, washed your hair; did a face mask , just enjoying the quiet before getting out, wrapping a towel around your body , making your way out of the bathroom. “i’ve been waiting a long time, princess.” you jumped a little holding the front of your towel. “That towel isn't covering anything I haven't seen already.” he smirked. “twice.”

standing up walking towards, you look to the side , at the mirror. “you look just as good in person as you do in the mirror princess.” he said, coming closer to you, raising his hand up to the towel. “although I would like to see you in the mirror all fucked out.”

he grabbed the towel , tugging at it , letting it fall to the ground; leaving you naked in front of him. “so pretty.” the demon , pushed you down on the bed. “J-jay.” You moaned out, he smiled down at you. “be a good girl.” He took your hand , guiding you down to his pants, you unbuckled his pants, freeing his cock. “fuck, put it in your mouth.” the demon groaned , looking in the mirror as you bobbed your head up and down , gagging occasionally on his thick cock. “fuck your mouth feels so good , grabbing your wet hair , pushing you further down on him. “fuck , I'm gonna cum.” he pushed your head down. “fuck take it , take my cum.” his head lolled back as he pump a load of his cum down your throat. “shit.”

Barely giving you a moment to take a break, before ridding himself of his clothes. “ass up princess.” he stroked himself. “fu-fuck look in the mirror baby , just like the first day I saw you.” he grabbed the back of your head , turning it to the mirror. “all pretty and ready for me to fuck.” You felt his cock head pressing against your hole. “I want you to watch as I fuck you.” you moaned as he pushed himself inside of you. “oh fuck , you're so tight.” he groaned , fully bottoming out. “ja-jay.” you tried to close your eyes. “no, no.” He stopped moving. “open your eyes.”

you forced your eyes open, the sight in the mirror so lewd , you couldn't help but moan. “see how fucking pretty you look, the prettiest I've seen in -fuck- hundreds of years.” the grip on your hips tighter as he began to plow into you. “ja-jay fuck I'm gonna cum.” you screamed. “shit , cum.” he pressed your head further into the mattress. “cum all over my cock.” he howled.

your body giving up , going limp as you came, he held you up , using your body to get himself off. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” his thrusts were relentless. “fuck I'm cumming.” He grunted. “shit!” he pumped his load into your cunt. “you feel so good.” he slowly pulled out of you. “so good baby.”

letting you shower again; dragging a jealous Jake from his room to help him look for your pajamas to set out for you; sending him back on his way, this was his time with you. “go, now.” he glared at the boy. “She's gonna ask, she asked all of us.” he said before disappearing, again. “Was that Jake , what did he want?” you asked , smiling at the display of clothes. “Thank you.”

“So why'd you stop coming out for 200 years?” you asked, he sat at the foot of the bed. “my dad banished me here years ago , when the first owner owned the house,” he said. “your dad?” you asked. “your dad was lucifer?” your eyes widened. “I've gotten that look at least 300 times.” he said. “the first guy found the necklace and that's how it all started , he summoned me and I was a prisoner ever since.” he said. “why did he send you here?” you asked.

“because that's what happens to abominations.” he said, you were even more confused. “my mother was a human, he seduced her , she fell in love with him and brought her to hell because well she was a naive human.” he said. “but he quickly fell out of love with her, because he's a heartless bastard— but he didn't kill her because she was pregnant with me , and regardless of me being half human , i was still part demon, and he thought if he raised me that would get rid of the good.”

you are now sitting up, listening to him talk. “hundreds of years later he realized there was no changing me, no matter how many murders he made me watch, the screams of the tortured souls in hell, none of it made me happy, like it made him.” He said. “He didn't want to kill his only son , so he banished me here,” he said. “and your mom?” his jaw clenched. “She's roaming around hell, she can't escape and I can't find her,” he said. “and even if i bring her here she'll age in human years within a second.” All these boys had terrible back stories, you felt extreme empathy for every single one of them.

“so why did you come out for me?” you asked, he smiled. “because I can feel it.” he said. “out of all the people who've had the necklace, you're the one who bonded with each one of us , you've even managed to bond with sunghoon and trust me he wasn't just like that because of your grandmother.” he said. “I believe you were meant to have the necklace— the last person to have the necklace.” he said. “You can break the curse.”

“break the curse?” you asked. “what does that mean?”

“This curse could end with you,” he said. “multiple years ago, when Jake first arrived, my dad came to me , if we could find someone willing to take the necklace and keep the necklace until they die then he'd set us free, jake and sunghoon could crossover and he'd allow my mom to cross over.” he said. “and you?” he smiled. “there's no crossing over for me, that's not apart of the deal.” he said. “What happens to you?” he lowered his, but you lifted it back up. “I will go back to hell and become the heir,” he said. “But it's what I'm willing to do for my family,” he said. “if they'll be happy in the end , I can live with it.”

“and no one has ever said yes?” he shook his head. “who wants to live with three demons attached to their hip? people get married , have families, even if they bond with one of us , they have to bond with all of us.” he said. “So normally they just put the necklace back, and forget us,” he said. “and you've managed to bond with us all, that's I came out , because I know you can break it.” he said , standing up. “i know it's a lot , you have a lot to think about.” he said. “But please promise to think about it.” he said, you nodded. “Of course, of course I will.” he smiled. “Thank you baby.”

“Now get some rest.”

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