#i love bodies of water bc i think its calming but just from a distance

[mania-sama]

rule #12 - through the tides

Rule #12 - Through the Tides - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Voltron ❧ Pairing: Hunk & Lance & Pidge ❧ Tags: shark attack, amputation, surfing, surfer! lance, no voltron lions au, blood and injury, harm to animals (the shark had it coming), hurt no comfort, nonbinary! pidge, gore ❧ Summary: Lance just wants to surf, but it seems like a creature of the sea has different plans in mind. ❧ Word Count: 1,837 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 16 October 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 16: Amputation ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

Author Note:

this is inspired by a VERY specific fanart of lance and shiro (not ship i dont think) where shiro is trying to comfort a crying lance, who is staring horrifiedly at his amputated arm. the nub has obvious shark bites, and the whole work is so compelling bc its like lance was hurt by the thing he loves THE MOST in the world (or that the fandom has assigned to him anyway) and nobody can understand his pain but shiro, who is also an amputee.

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT. I CANT FIND IT. i cant find the fucking fanart. its gone. if any loser reads this fic and happens to have the fanart somewhere. link me to it. or dm me on instagram or twitter. i am desperate. i am so utterly desperate idk what to do with myself

also faintly inspired by barbie's "a mermaid tale" but thats only because the only references i have to surfing are the movie and Teen Beach Movie and im gonna be honest, this is not like teen beach movie at all

-

The ocean is Lance’s happy place. When he sets his feet in the cold salt water, the tension in his body from the day or week flows out of him like how the ocean waves ebb against the shore. His feet sink into the sand and seep between his toes. It’s a natural massage to work out his anxieties. The breeze rushes off the horizon, tossing his hair and cooling the sweat on his forehead.

He stares at the glittering sun in the midday sun. It brings him relaxation and adrenaline all at once; the water lapping his ankles is his calming massage, but the waves crashing further ahead call his name as though they are a crowd of excited fans. Lance doesn’t surf professionally, preferring to keep his hobbies and his career separate, but that doesn’t mean he won’t get a rush from the beachgoers watching him tackle the unforgiving ocean.

He adjusts the board under his arm and takes a deep breath. He spares one glance over his shoulder at his friends waiting on the safe sand. Hunk waves at him enthusiastically from where he’s building an already impressive sand castle considering they only arrived ten or so minutes ago, and Pidge smiles from their lounge chair. Their massive umbrella protects their fair skin from burning at the slightest touch of the sun.

Lance turns back to face the waves. A big wave builds in the distance, too far for Lance to get to in time. It’s a promise of a thrilling challenge yet to come. He doesn’t waste any longer and strides out to join the people swimming out in the ocean.

The chill of the ocean is a fresh of breath air to him. Most people — Pidge — complain about the bite and sudden cold, but Lance has never been able to understand that reaction. It’s like a mint for bad breath, a shower after toiling in the mud, and a payday after two weeks of hard labor. He embraces the slap of the crystalline water as though it’s an old friend, which in some ways, it is.

He hoists himself stomach-first onto the board and drifts when his feet can no longer touch the ground. He’ll propel himself now and again to keep moving in the right direction, but for the most part, he stays stagnant on the water. Waves come and go as they please; a good one is harder to catch than a mediocre one, and a gnarly wave is the rarest of them all. Unfortunately, Lance is in the mood for something huge to make the adrenaline rushing through his veins worth it, so he has to wait a long time.

Honestly, it’s not so bad. As long as he’s in the ocean, he can’t feel the edges of impatience creeping up on him. The sound of the water’s ever-constant movement is a melody to his ears and a remedy for his greed. He can stare for hours at the way the sun reflects off the water in dazzling bursts of light. It’s a phenomenon that can’t be replicated even if all of history’s best painters rose from the dead to collaborate on recreating the scene.

It can’t capture the smell of salt and seaweed, the gentle caress of the water on his hands and calves, or the happy people screaming and splashing each other in the distance. Seagulls circle overhead and dive when they find a fish straying too close to the surface, or they find a human to harass for bread and chips. The heat of the day burns on Lance’s tanned skin, unrelenting even as the thin clouds attempt to diminish its power.

It’s Heaven on Earth. Michelangelo could never hope to replicate it.

Lance spies a wave rippling in the distance. The water ripples, and the frequency of the sloshes near his board change. His heart picks up pace, and his arms start working to get closer to the rising wall. After years of surfing, he can easily tell which waves will end in a disappointing, diffused heap, and which ones will create a loop so large Lance can stand inside.

A shadow overcasts the water that the wave rises over, and the rush of the moving water overpowers the loud beachgoers closer to shore. His world narrows to him, the wave, and his board. Lance forces his board and himself underneath the wave, the ocean completely encasing him in sea water. He stays there for a moment, salt and water burning his eyes and flowing against his closed lips. The sounds of the surface world are muffled, and he can only distinctly hear the gushing water.

When he’s about to break the surface, he spots a form under the water. Lance has had close encounters with sea creatures before — fish, crabs, jellyfish, and other rather unfriendly animals that didn’t appreciate a human traversing their home. He’s never been upset when they pinch, bite, or sting; he is the trespasser. The ocean is not his home.

He’s been near sharks before but in every single instance, it was in a more or less controlled environment. The sharks were small, freshwater, and used to human presence. Experienced divers kept their noses and teeth from ever getting within biting distance.

In the split second after, he breaks the surface with his board clutched in a white-knuckled grip. All he can see now is the very tip of the shark’s gray fin coming straight towards him.

“Shark!” He screams as loud as he can, and he climbs onto his board as quickly as he can. The wave is still moving, on the brink of collapsing in the great surge he’s been waiting for. They travel fast, faster than he hopes the shark is willing to go to keep up with him. It’s not going to be the surf that he wanted, but by God is it going to be the one he’s going to get. It’s ride-or-die, literally.

Hazily, he hears the blow of whistles and the revving of the lifeguards’ waterskis. His heart beats too hard in his chest, and it nearly overpowers the sounds of the restless ocean. His board wobbles underneath him, threatening to knock him off with the slightest misstep. He knows it's the panic setting into him that’s throwing him off but his running mind can’t help but associate it with the shark moving in the depths below him.

The shark produces a massive shadow underneath his board and rocks Lance off-balance. It’s slippery from being completely under the water, and his tingling feet prevent him from a steady grip. His arms flail in the area to pull him back on the center of the board.

He’s still screaming his head off when he falls. It’s not completely off — his body is still on, but his hips straddle the board and his legs plunge into the ocean. He tries to pull them back up, but he notices the wave has left him behind.

Then pain explodes in his right leg.

He thrashes against the board, attempting to use his full body weight to dislodge the shark off his leg. But it holds fast. Lance can see its body as more than just a shadow, now. Its nose sticks out of the water, and its huge body moves back and forth with all of the effort it has to pull him underneath the waves.

Lance can hardly think past the bite, how it sears his leg in the worst agony he’s ever felt. He’s been burned, stabbed in a fight, beaten to a bloody pulp, yet nothing compares to this. His skin rips and tears under the huge, sharp teeth of the shark. It takes all of his core strength to keep on the board and not tip over, which means leaning on the other side. It’s taking off his leg, it’s taking off his leg, but he has to sacrifice it if he wants to survive.

Blood comes up in smokey waves to pool around him and the shark, mixing with the white steaks and bubbles created by their fight. Lance lets go only temporarily to punch the animal directly in the nose, which actually gets it to let go. Its body torques and thrashes in the water. Lance uses the short opportunity to bring his leg onto his board.

Except it doesn’t come out of the water. His knee comes up, but the space where his calf and foot should be is occupied by the overflowing pour of blood and flesh. Tendrils of the tendons the shark couldn’t get ahold of swing in the open air. His white bone peaks out from his knee, a small numb in comparison to the long bone that should continue the skeleton.

He screams, and he screams when the shark launches to finish the job, and he’s still screaming when a pair of hands hoist him off of his board and out the shark’s bloody, snapping jaw. Its beady eyes flash in the open air, staring directly at its prey before it flops under the water once more. It breaks his board in half from the crash of its massive body directly down the center.

Lance’s voice is hoarse, and his sobs are uncontrollable as he stares at his leg. Or rather, the absence of it. It throbs like it's still there. The pink and red bits of his flesh fly off in the wind from the speed of the jet ski. The lifeguard is saying something to him, but he can’t hear it over the engine of the machine and the static in his ears.

He’s never going to surf again. He’s never going to be able to walk on his right leg again. Not as flesh and bone, but as a wooden peg, metal, a machine, nothing but the air. It should still be there. He can still feel it. Parts of it remain; his liquid and solid insides still flow and burst into the area where it should be. It should be there.

But it’s not, and it’s unbearably painful and all he can do is sob as the pain overtakes all of his senses. Salt flies into the gaping wound, filling up the space where his leg should be. 

Where his leg isn’t. Where it never will be.

He’s sobbing when the paramedics drag him into the waiting ambulance, and he’s reduced to whimpers as the sheer pain overrides his consciousness. Hunk cries with him and holds his hand, and Pidge can’t seem to stop screaming, either.

He passes out thinking about his leg. How it’s gone and never coming back. but still hurts all the same, still mocks him in its presentation of being real and attached to his body. He sees the pink, pulsing flesh peeling from his knee in thick strips behind his eyelids. He feels the warm, blood-infested water, and stares into the gaping jaws of the shark that claimed his leg.

Then, the deep, watery darkness of unconsciousness.

[chiwoopsie]

ohhh you've been busy too? i hope it's not stressing you out!! i knooooow, summer really went by waay too fast, i wish i could stop time ☹ i study law!! are you a college student too? or are you employed already? or neither 😅

honestly same !!! that's why all the sports i did, i did them when i was a child. adult me can't relate. 😐 but i love watching it!! i've been enjoying it so much, honestly i enjoy most tournaments every time and the olympics are my favorite worldwide sports tournament so of course i'd love it!! i always get so competitive when my country plays tho 😅😅😅 and i completely agree, i think it's fun how there was soo many favorized athletes who actually didn't win at all and i love seeing new winners!! you like teambonding games but do you get competitive? 🤔 are you like seungkwan

ohh you used to swim out of necessity? i hope everything's okay!! was it like to strengthen your back muscles? i needed to do that actually that's why i did it for a while 😅 i hate water 😐

OHH YOU LIKE EATING AND FINDING NEW PLACES TO EAT!!! THAT'S SOOOO MUCH FUN !!!! what's your favorite food?? is there a dish you'd recommend trying? if there is pls gimme a main meal and a dessert, i'm not much of an eater but i always love trying new food 😌 (it doesn't even need to be something special btw) do you also cook?

AWWWW YOU'RE SO SWEET FOR WANTING TO MAKE ME A PLAYLIST 😭😭😭😭😭 so maybe something cheerful, fun, summery iykwim sksgsjs i've been obsessed with weeekly's after school ever since it came out so i want more fun summer songs 😅 while it's still summer at least

- 💎

cue my lengthy response

omg law :000 i know quite a few ppl studying law from this site 👀👀 i’ve actually been on jury duty for the past couple weeks (im in the us) and it’s really interesting how lawyers do their thing..much respect for all the work you have to do bc i could never lol But I’m a teacher! Will be starting my first full year in the classroom in the coming weeks so i’ve been preparing myself for that :’]

I love me some competition!! I get really into it but not too much (because we all know annoying ppl like that 😕) Maybe not seungkwan/hoshi level of competitive but maybe a level below them? which reminds me: did you watch the latest gose ep with them playing kickball?? I think that was one of my favorite eps of all time 😍😹 i love it whenever svt plays sports bc they’re actually all p good at it, or at least they give it 100%, which makes it fun :D

Hmm it’s so hard to pick a fave food 😭 but I hafta say anything with noodles (pasta, stir-fry, noodle soup - except chicken noodle soup lmao etc) and dumplings <333333 I can eat those every meal for the rest of my life tbh Also potatoes, cant go wrong with potatoes in any way, shape, or form :PPPP I cook sometimes, when I need to or when there’s something I really wanna try making; otherwise I live off of my family’s cooking lol As for dessert, I like rice pudding...and pie, pie > cake honestly

OKAY FUN SUMMER SONG PLAYLIST HERE WE GO:

Boogie Up - WJSN

Bloom Bloom - The Boyz

Love U - Chungha

Summer! - Pentagon

Chi Mat Ba Ram - Brave Girls

Breathless - Astro

Bim Bam Bum - Rocket Punch

Love Me Love Me - Winner

BAE - Hyolyn

Complete - ONF

I made this with Weeekly’s After School in mind so i hope there’s a good balance between songs that sound similar to that + others that still carry that cheerful summer vibe^^ i forgot if i asked this before but what are some other songs you’ve been obsessed with this year? or in general hahah

[seiyasabi]

Bulls in the Bronx

(So…. long story short, I’m now a hucow simp. Thanks a lot @/biskywrites and @/dark-side-blog2 for making me this way (ﾉД`) lol, all jokes aside, I wanna suck some tiddy milk from a buff man ;)) Anyways, this is Yandere Hucow(Hubull?) Bokuto x Fem Reader ;0 This fic allows me to flex my farming knowledge lol, bc my grandparents owned ponies and dogs. 

TW: !Noncon!, !dubcon!, creampie!, he hits you twice!, somnophilia!, predator vs prey?, manipulation!, cumflation!, breeding kink!, size kink!, ur a farmhand!, lactation!, tiddie sucking!, Asshole farmer Ushi, etc.. 

Please don’t proceed if any of the above are triggering! Also, sorry if Bokuto is too OOC lol) 

“Bokuto got into the lackweed again,” You can’t suppress the laugh that explodes from your mouth. The idea of the biggest hucow (hubull??) on the ranch freaking out (again), because he’s now dripping milk is hilarious. 

“Where on Earth does he keep finding those damn weeds?” The other farmhand laughs as well, stooping down to fill two buckets with water. 

“I think those grass seeds were cross contaminated, the other hucows also started to lactate a lot more than usual. But, it’s kinda funny that our best breeder is dripping like a heifer,” Chuckling in acknowledgement, you can’t help but feel a pang of pity. Poor Bo, he’s probably really self conscious at the moment. 

“Maybe I should go check on him-” Your coworker almost drops the bucket she’s filling, looking up at you as if you just grew three heads. 

“Why would you do that? Did you forget that he’s going in rut soon?” Frowning, you glance down at the floor in mild shame. 

“Well, yes, but he isn’t supposed to start until next week! Plus, I’m not ovulating right now, so I won’t trigger him,” The other girl thinks for a moment, before nodding slowly. 

“I suppose it’d be fine. If anything, he may calm down if his favourite handler is there,” Nodding, you grab two buckets from the shelf beside you. Squatting down next to your coworker, you place a bucket underneath a faucet, turning the circular handle to the left. A gush of cool water rushes out, quickly filling the plastic pail. Quickly switching it out for the empty one, you wait a few more moments, before turning off the rushing water. Grabbing the handles of the buckets, you lift them whilst standing to your feet, using your legs instead of your back. 

Nodding towards the other girl, you bid her farewell. Turning on your heel, you tromp towards the bull pens. The large red barn is quite a far distance from the shed you were once in, causing you to break out in a light sweat. It doesn’t help that it’s mid spring, causing the farm to be quite warm. 

Setting the buckets down on the dirt ground, you wipe your brow with the back of your hand. Huffing out a deep breath, you quickly move the concrete slab keeping the barn closed away from the sliding door, before shoving it open. The sound of the cowbell on the red and white door handle on the inside clinks noisily, queuing a symphony of deep ‘moos.’ 

Picking up the buckets with bent knees, you hurry inside, relishing the feeling of the barn’s fans on your sweaty skin, “Hey guys, is the barn cool enough for you?” Grumbles and shifting of large bodies are all you get in response, causing you to laugh, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Gunning it for a certain grey haired bull’s stall, a bright smile makes its way onto your face, “Hey, Koutarou, how’re you feeling?” 

He’s currently laying on his bed of compact hay, tears sliding down his handsome face. His cute ears are droopy, his bell earring not jingling with life like normal. His tears drip between his septum piercing, and drop onto his well defined abdomen, “Not good, (Your Name).” 

With a small gasp, you set down the pails rather harshly, some of the cool liquid sloshing onto the wooden floor. Hurrying towards him, you sit on the prickly ‘mattress,’ “What’s wrong? I heard that you’re lac-” A small sob leaves his lips at your words, causing you to grab his hand reassuringly, “Are the other guys making fun of you? I can go yell at them if you’d like!” 

The buff bull-man sits up, one arm covering his chest self-consciously, “No! They’re not being mean,” He grips your hand almost to the point that it’s painful, “I-it’s just… my chest hurts, real bad.”

Nodding in understanding, you motion towards his covered pecs, “Let me see, Bubs. I’ll see what I can do.”

His face flushes bright red, “But it’s embarrassing!” You shush him sweetly, releasing his hand to coax his arm away from his chest. 

“It’s okay, I won’t make fun of you! I just wanna help you,” After a moment of hesitance, he obeys, revealing his swollen, red nipples. 

The area around his nipples is raised as well, showing just how much his milk is backed up. 

Eyes softening even more, you delicately rub both pecs, “You’re alright, Bubs. This happens to the cows sometimes when we don’t milk them as much as we need to. If you’d like, I can go find a pump!”

“No! I don’t wanna pump!” You jump slightly, and move away from him, only for his hands to trap your own to his chest. More tears gather in his eyes, as he becomes distraught, “I don’t want my milk to go to waste!” 

Taken aback, you nod, although you don’t understand his reasoning, “Kou, why’re you acting like this? You know we don’t get rid of milk, we sell your guys’ milk at the market.” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t want you to sell it. I want you to drink it,” The look of shock on your face is mistaken as disgust, causing him to cry even more, “Do you think I’m weird? Why do you look like that?” Seeing the bull act so sensitive is adorable, but you feel as though you have to comfort him.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’m not weirded out, I’m just surprised. I’ll go get a bucket-”

“No bucket!” Sighing at his weird behaviour, you cock an eyebrow at him. 

“Then how am I supposed to collect it?” A big grin crosses his teary face. 

“Drink from me! I promise I’ll be good!” Shifting in discomfort, an anxious sweat starts to form on your brow. 

“Ahaha, that’s funny, Kou. You know I can’t do that,” More tears well up in his eyes, squeezing your heart painfully, “Don’t look at me like that, Bubs. I don’t think your owner would like me getting so close-” 

“I don’t mind,” Ushijima’s voice booms throughout the barn, scaring the living daylights out of you. Whipping your head around, you make eye contact with the large male, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, “As long as my star bull is happy, I’m happy.”

Kou releases your hands, only to grab your face, forcing you to look at him, “See! He doesn’t care! Please, (Nickname), please help me! My udders hurt so bad!” 

With Ushijima’s eyes on you, and Koutarou’s sad and pain filled face, you finally relent, “Okay, okay! Don’t freak out, Bubs, I’ll help. You just gotta let me go.” 

He releases you quickly, before shoving your head towards his chest. The jingling of his earring is heard, telling you that his ears are no longer pressed down on the top of his head. You hear heavy footsteps walk away from his stall, probably gathering the bulls to let them graze outside. 

You try to push away from where your head is being smushed, but the bull gives you no leeway, “Why aren’t you drinking?” The male practically whines, as you whack his shoulder lightly. 

“I’m being smothered in between your tiddies, Kou,” You chuckle in slight discomfort, but he finally allows you up. Moving towards his most swollen nipple (the left one), you pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, causing a small stream of milk to come streaming out. 

A small moan leaves the large man’s lips, as he shoves you once again face first into his chest, “Don’t tease, (Nickname), I feel like I’m dying!” A flash of empathy goes through your heart. 

Removing your hand from his nipple, you take a deep breath, and latch yourself onto him.Your chapstick covered lips are soft against his sensitive skin, causing him to keen. When you suckle, a tidal wave of milk bursts into your mouth. Luckily, it doesn’t taste very bad; his milk tastes like vanilla, causing you start to slurp it up like a babe. 

Your one hand kneads his other pec to soothe him, “Fu-fuck, you’re making me feel so good!” You don’t bother trying to say anything, instead, you just suck harder. Your unoccupied hand squeezes his tit that you’re currently nursing on, causing him to pump out more of his yummy milk. 

After a few long moments, you release his nipple. A drop of milk trickles down your chin, which the large bull laughs at. A thick finger wipes off the excess, pushing itself into your mouth. A tender look is in the grey haired man’s eyes, as he kisses your forehead. 

“Thank you, pretty girl. Can you do the other one, please?” Now that he’s no longer in a painfilled state, he’s back to his normal, boyish self. Nodding, you lick your lips, before latching on to his other nipple. He barely chokes back a moan, his hand gripping the back of your head. 

You suck as hard as you can without hurting him, pretending his nipple was a straw to a thick ass milkshake. Between your massaging and sucking, his teat no longer feels as painful as it once did. 

Pulling away, you give him a wry smile, “There, all better. Well, I should pour your water into your trough now,” Standing up with wobbly legs, you move towards the filled buckets. Picking them up one by one, you pour it in with unsteady hands. Why are you so shaky right now? “Well, I should get going now. I hope you feel better later,” You try to walk out of his stall, only to be yanked back into Bokuto’s lap. Both empty pails fall to the ground unceremoniously, clattering loudly through the empty barn. 

“Don’t leave me, Lovely, I need you,” His warm skin against yours feels nice, and you suddenly feel sleepy. 

“Kou, I’m tired. I think-I think I’m gonna take a nap,” He runs his fingers (through your hair/over your scalp), tantalising you into drifting off. 

“That’s alright, (Nickname), I’ll watch after you,” With a muffled ‘Mhm,’ you fall into a deep slumber. 

-

When you awoke, you woke to your body shaking. Brow furrowing, you blearily open your eyes, only to see a tuft of grey hair in between your bent, spread legs. 

His long tongue is currently fucking in and out of your dripping cunt, his thumb rubbing against your clit. 

“Ku-Kou? Wha-“ He looks up immediately, a look of shock on his strong features. 

“I-It’s Not what it looks like! I-I just wanted a taste!” You groggily push at his head, catching his ears slightly, causing a small jingling to sound throughout the empty barn. 

“You didn’t ask, why, why are you-“ He grabs your hand, kissing each knuckle with a slobbering kiss. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let me make you feel good! You taste so good,” You yank your hand back, trying to kick off the hand that currently wrapped around your right thigh. 

“Get off of me! Bokuto, you-you’re doing this without my consent! I thought we were friends!” You shout, pushing at his face harshly. He grabs one of your hands, trying to kiss it, only for your other to clap him upside the face harshly, “Don’t! You’ve already done enough.” 

Kicking him away (even though he’s much larger and stronger than you, meaning he just moved away), you stand to your feet, pulling back up your halfway down jeans and panties. 

Snatching up the buckets previously discarded, you don’t even shoot the crying bull a glance, just turning on your heel, and stomping away. 

Tears of your own drip down your face, humiliation and betrayal weighing down your aching heart. 

Forcefully sliding open the barn doors, you run from it, catching the eye of a certain green haired farmer. 

It seems Bokuto fucked up. 

But that’s okay, when he goes into rut, there’ll be nothing keeping him from breeding you full of his massive calves. 

-

You avoided the bull barn like the plague for the next week. The hucows are very pleasant company. They treat you as if you’re their young, making you feel well loved. 

That is, until Hachi asked you why you’ve been avoiding Bokuto. She’d told you that he hasn’t acted the same, in fact, he’s acted depressed and withdrawn. 

Since then, you’ve stuck with aquatic life. The fish, swans, and ducks don’t give you that much trouble. 

But, when you come back from the pond and fish pools, the farm is ensued with panic. Apparently, Bokuto’s finally gone into rut. 

And, unfortunately for you, he’s on the prowl for you. 

So, when your coworker runs up to you, begging for you to calm him, you turn on your heel, and start walking back towards the pond. They can figure this out themselves, you’re not going to sacrifice yourself to someone who tried to take advantage of you. 

Sadly, that doesn’t work out. 

You’re immediately stopped by Ushijima, his broad form blocking you from advancing forward, “Where do you think you’re going?” His arms are crossed, an angry scowl on his usually handsome features. 

“I forgot something at the pond,” You lie, smoothly, “I’m going to go grab it real quick-” 

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” His strong voice booms, “What you’re going to do, is march yourself into the barn, and make my prized bull happy.” 

Your own scowl forms on your pretty face, “I will do nothing of the sort. Interspecies sex is illegal! You can fire me for all I care, I’m not going in there!” You try to move around his large form, only to be manhandled into a chokehold.

His left arm is wrapped around your neck, your back to his chest, and your face being held in a large hand, “Interspecies sex is legal when a human and hybrid are mates,” He hisses through gritted teeth, and you struggle in his hold, “If you don’t go in there, I’ll drag you in.” 

“Fuck you,” You spit, “I’ll fucking castrate you!” You kick backwards, landing a solid hit on the large man’s groin. With a loud yell, you’re let go, allowing you to run towards the farm’s parking area. Pulling your truck’s keys from your pocket, you haul ass, not bothering to look behind you. 

The barns and sheds fly past you, as you run through the open field leading to the car park. You suddenly hear loud footsteps follow after you, and you assume that it’s Ushijima, that is, until you hear them, “(Nickname)! (Nickname), where are you going? Why are you running away from me?” Bokuto’s voice rings out at top volume, hurting your ears. His voice a lot more gravely than before, and without looking at him, you know that he most likely looks crazed. 

You don’t respond, trying to pick up the pace. You click the unlock button one time, only unlocking the driver’s side door. Because you had a head start, you cleared the field in less than three seconds, allowing you to hop into your truck, and lock the doors. Shoving the key into the ignition, all whilst buckling your seatbelt, you press on the brake, and turn it, only to hear the spluttering of your failing ignition, “Come on! Don’t do this-” Bokuto slams into the driver’s side door at top speed, rocking your large vehicle harshly. His hands and face are pressed against the window, his expression looking like that of a kicked puppy. You then notice the fact that the buff male is completely naked, his impossibly large cock bobbing against his toned stomach. 

“Why are you trying to leave? I need you so badly, pretty-pretty. Why don’t you open the door, and we can figure this out? I promise I’ll make you feel good, after all, us bulls pride ourselves in taking care of our mates,” You cringe in disgust, not bothering to answer him. Instead, you continue to fiddle with your ignition, muttering expletives under your breath. His large hands start to beat on your driver-side window, trying to gain your attention, “(Nickname), come out already! Ushi already cut your fuel line, so you’re not going anywhere! Come on, I just wanna make you feel good-”

It was your turn to cut him off, “Shut up! We aren’t friends anymore, Bokuto, much less lovers! Just leave me the fuck alone! I’m sure many of the cows would love to help you through your rut, why can’t you just ask them?” Tears of frustration dot your eyelashes, as you pop open your glove box and search for your phone. Catching sight of the black cased (phone type), you snatch it from its confines with a loud ‘Aha,’ “Don’t make me call the Farmer’s Union, Bokuto. I’ll report you and Ushijima for-”

“You won’t! You love me too much!” His frantic words raise in volume, as he hit the glass even harder than before, “You wouldn’t put me down! Come on, (Nickname), why won’t you call me ‘Bubs’ anymore? I love you!” You swipe open your phone, and go to the contacts. Pulling up the Farmer’s Union phone number, you go to press ‘call,’ only for the shattering of glass to halt you. 

You scream in both fear and shock, throwing up your hands to protect your face. This, in turn, causes you to drop your phone. In this time, Bokuto is able to grab you by your arms, and drag you towards the broken window. Your seatbelt keeps you in place, causing him to pull you even harder, and making you scream in pain. 

You use your arm to whack his against the broken glass on your truck’s window area. He releases you in a moment of pain, allowing you to unbuckle yourself, and throw yourself to the passenger side. Once there, you unlock the door, and bolt towards the road. 

“(Your Name), come back here! Stop being so difficult!” You pay him no mind, a few meters away from the busy road. Noticing a car speeding towards the area you’re running to, you push yourself even harder, trying to throw yourself into the road. Unfortunately, you’re grabbed by two buff arms that encircle your waist. They use all of their strength to smash you into their chest from behind, knocking the air from your lungs, “Are you crazy? You could’ve been hurt!” You thrash and try to bite at him, causing Bokuto to backhand you across the face, “Now look what you made me do! If you’d been good, I wouldn’t have had to do that!”

To be completely honest, you’re in shock. Bokuto has never raised a hand at you, and that slap wasn’t a warning tap. No, that was him using a good majority of his strength, causing your cheek to throb painfully. 

You continue to thrash and curse after freezing for a moment, drawing the eyes of concerned coworkers, “Let go of me! What the fuck is wrong with you? Put me down!” You try to kick him in the junk, only to kick him on the inside of his thigh. In retaliation, he backhands you again, this time on the other cheek. Gasps and whispers are heard from those around you, drawing the large hucow’s eyes. 

“There’s nothing to see here, guys! Just my mate making a scene,” He shakes you a bit to shut you up, causing you to become disoriented. The farmhands and other hybrids look like they’re about to step in, only for Ushijima himself to show up. 

“What Bokuto said is correct,” His harsh gaze is on you, his hand gripping his dick, “She’s just making a scene. Let them through.”

They reluctantly go back to their business, as Koutarou guns it to the empty bull barn. Ushijima only watches as you’re dragged to the large building, as tears drip down your face in fear, and his fist at his side clenches in fury.

Stomping into the barn, Bokuto makes quick work of getting to his stall. Once inside, he tosses you on the hay mattress, and straddles your waist. With pawing hands, he rips your t-shirt and jeans off of you, leaving you in your bra and underwear, along with your boots and socks. Yanking off your boots, be tossed them out of his ‘room,’ as you try to throw punches at his muscular chest. He grunts, but doesn’t stop. 

With beefy fingers, he yanks off your bra, ripping it in two. Your tits jiggle at his harsh movements, making him lick his lips in enjoyment. He then rips off your cotton panties, exposing your cunny to his hungry eyes. 

“You’re beautiful, pretty-pretty. I can’t wait to see you stuffed with my calves,” You shake your head no rapidly, pushing his hands away from where they rest on your hips. 

“No! Stop it, Bokuto! I thought we were friends!” He tightens his grip on your pelvis, forcing your legs open. 

“That’s Not my name, (Nickname), you know that. Now, you know that I’m way more than just your friend-I’m your mate, and you know that I’ll provide for you and our calves,” With grubby fingers, he rubs at your clit, trying to draw a good reaction from you.

You squirm in response, trying to wriggle out of his one handed grip. You shove at his chest, but he remains unmoved, choosing to press down harder than before, “Stop it! Let me go!” 

He inserts his middle finger into your moist cunny, forcing it in and out. You try to kick him in the head only for him to catch your leg with the hand that previously held your hip, “If you wanted me to eat you out that bad, you should’ve just said so, pretty girl,” Before you can refuse, he throws your legs over his shoulders, and dives in. 

His long tongue fucks in and out of your hole, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit. A loud whine escapes your throat before you can stop it, making you feel a wave of disgust for yourself. Bokuto shouldn’t be making you feel good, he’s assaulting you, after all. 

But, when his tongue brushed against your g-spot, you can’t help but convulse in pleasure. Thighs quaking, you try to stop yourself from cumming. 

“St-stop! I’m, I’m gonna-“ He stops before you can cum, instead, pushing your hips down to where his cock lays against his abs. Forcing the bulbous head against your tiny hole, he pushes harshly, trying to fuck into you like an animal, “No! No! You’re too big! You’re going to tear my-“ With one powerful thrust, he forces his way inside, and you can’t help but scream. 

Tears drip down your face at the feeling, your pussy feeling like it’s been ripped open. Bokuto grabs your head, and forces it against his chest, practically making you take one of his pink nipples into your mouth. You’re immediately met with the taste of his vanilla milk, drinking it up as the hucow starts to buck into you at a lightning fast pace. 

Your teeth bite down on his nipple, but instead of being angry, he just moans in lust, “Yes! Yes, pretty girl, you’re taking me so well!” 

His hand that isn’t cradling your head goes to your tummy, feeling his huge length moving underneath your skin. He presses down a bit, causing another wanton moan to leave to both of you. With this thought in mind, he picks up the pace, practically fucking you into unconsciousness. 

Eyes rolling back, your ruined cunny gushed pathetically, coating you and the bull with your juices, “(Nickname), you’re so pretty when you cum,” He continues his breakneck pace, getting close to orgasm himself, “I’m gonna fill you up so good, that you’ll be dripping with my fun for days! Your little womb will be bloated with my fertile cum!” 

You try to speak, but you can’t, just continuing to suck his yummy milk from his teat. Walls fluttering with another orgasm, you feel yourself clamping down on his enormous cock. 

With one last mighty thrust, he seats himself fully inside of you, cumming directly against your unprotected cervix. A muffled scream erupts from your chest, as you feel your womb expand with copious amounts of beeile cum. Releasing his nipple, you throw your head back, a loud cry echoes throughout the barn, as you squirt once more around his cock. 

Now completely filled to the brim, you pass out from the trauma. Entirely exhausted, Koutarou grins down at your bloated form. He rubs your tummy like a Buddha statue, kissing it tenderly. 

“You’ll be a good Mommy, I’m sure of it,” he then trails his hand up your abdomen, groping your right tit, “You’ll look so pretty all milky and filled with my calves.” 

The sound of a throat clearing gains Bokuto’s attention, as he practically throws his naked body over yours. A loud ‘moo’ of warning escapes his chest, even when he notices that the person is just Ushijima. 

“I see that she mates with you well,” His eyes trail over your sleeping face, not straying downwards, “I hope this means that you’ll enter more shows.” 

Bo smiles, “Yes. Now I need to show off, so my mate thinks I’m an eligible male.” 

Nodding, Ushijima turns on his heal, making his way to leave the barn, “I hope your children take after you in strength. (Your Name) is a lot prettier than you are, so maybe they’ll be pleasing to the eye as well.” 

Snorting, the grey haired man’s ears twitch, jingling throughout the room, “You bet she is. She’s perfect.” 

[erensangel444]

just a humble bounty hunter

spike spiegel x reader

DNI if not 16+ thank you!

cowboy bebop fr fr is one of my favorite animes it’s just 😘

this fic is spike x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender-neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

a/n: i want this life plz. ALSO, I LOVE THIS TROPE: two unemotionally available people whose hearts are taken by another, but for some reason, they can’t have the person they want, so they seek out each other for comfort(aka sex), and eventually, it turns in to something more, and there’s a little bit of angst, but in the end, their hearts belong to one another now. IM GONNA CRY :,) i don’t know if that made any sense but ya feel me???

okay don’t beat me up....but this has a cliche confessing-our-love-in-the-rain scene. IM A SUCKER FOR THE CLICHES OKAY?!! also faye’s lowkey a cock-blocker in this?? I LOVE HER THO, i want her to stomp on me.

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), stealing, use of drugs(just weed), violence(no death), germs?? bc transfer of something from one person’s mouth to another(just a cherry stem), alcohol consumption, smut; dry humping, unprotected sex w/ creampie, cumplay, oral(male!receiving), mentions of public sex, degradation + praise, 

word count:

summary: attempting to forget the past with a cowboy, unknowingly creating a future.

you could hear the thrum of electricity throughout the bebop. you slid open your door, the lights near the bottom of the wall lighting the walkway. you walked into the kitchen, the room dark beside the moonlight shining in through the open gateway. you grabbed a soda from the fridge, walking towards the open entrance of the bebop.

you could make out spike’s figure in the distance, the slight flare from his cigarette making him easily distinguishable. you opened your soda, spike’s head turning at the sound. he noticed it was you, taking another puff from his cigarette before smiling at you and turning back around.

you had landed on cacri, a possible bounty in the area. the ship sat in the water for tonight, in a bay that was a docking area for ships. it overlooked the city, and if you turned to the other side, the sea stretched for miles fading into a distance of nothingness. 

you walked over to spike, who was standing at the edge of the ship. you sat down, your legs hanging off of the ship. you set your soda down, sitting back on your arms. “rough night?” you joked, the soft waves of the water brushing against the ship. 

you heard spike chuckle from above you, muttering as he held the cigarette in between his lips, “you could say that,”. you looked up at him, spike already looking down at you. he pulled the cigarette from his lips, holding it out to you, to which you shook your head left and right.

“i prefer more medicinal herbs,” you sighed jokingly, spike smiling down at you. “to each their own,” he mumbled with the cigarette in between his lips, looking back out to the water. you laid your back down on the ship, looking up at the stars. “god that’s what i need right now, some weed,” you declared, sitting back up.  “i’ll be back,” you said, standing up and grabbing your soda from the walkway of the ship. “i’ll come with you,” spike offered, rushing to catch up with you. you pouted mockingly, “think i can’t handle myself?”. you walked into the kitchen with spike, setting your soda down on the island. 

“you’ve shown full and well you can handle yourself,” spike praised, smirking at you, “maybe i’m just interested in partaking in some of those medicinal herbs,”.

you and spike crammed into your tight ship, the sound of the ship taking off causing ripples along the water. spike had found a 24-hour dispensary not too far away, and you set the ship down about a block away. you walked in, the bell on the door ringing.

a woman sat behind the cash register, smacking her gum loudly. she looked up at you and spike, giving the pair of you an uninterested stare before looking back down at her nail filer.

you looked at spike, raising one eyebrow with a soft smile, spike laughing softly. you walked through the store, grabbing rolling paper and a bag of weed, a strain called “strawnana”. spike couldn’t help but pick up gummy bear edibles, and so you headed to the cashier placing it all out on the countertop in front of you. 

“id,” the cashier grumbled. you realized that you hadn’t brought your id and turned towards spike, looking for a solution. “we forgot em’” spike said plainly. the cashier’s unimpressed look remained. “the legal age here is 18 though, right?” spike asked, though he already knew the answer. “we look over 18 right,” spike smiled, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“no id, no weed,” the cashier said plainly, pointing to a sign behind her that read ‘we card!’. “you know,” spike started, leaning on the countertop, “i really hate to do this, but,” he grabbed the rolling paper and bud, running towards the door. 

you paused for a moment, before realizing what was going on. you grabbed the gummy bears from atop the counter, running towards spike who was holding the door open. you could hear a “hey! come back here!” from behind you, and you turned to see spike throw up a peace sign to the cashier. 

you ran down the block, running towards your ship. you slowed down, walking for a moment, laughter coming over you. “you’re fucking crazy,” you sighed airily, walking beside spike who let out a soft laugh. 

“we got it though didn’t we?” he said with a smile.

you and spike were back outside of the bebop, sitting on the take-off strip. the joint was in between your lips as you took a drag, inhaling the substance. you blew it out with a puff, coughing once with a light chuckle before handing it over to spike. 

spike took a hit before blowing out the smoke. the joint had become shorter, barely being held between spike’s fingers. spike deaded the joint, setting it in the ashtray. “yeah, this is what i needed,” you sighed, lying down.  it seemed like the stars were brighter than they were before as you looked up at the sky now.

the soft noise of the waves brushing against the ship lulled you further into a calm state. “do you do this often?” spike asked, turning towards you. “only after we get a bounty, shit’s expensive,” you said honestly, spike laughing softly.

spike laid down next to you, looking up at the stars. “s’pretty huh?” you said simply, turning towards spike. spike hummed out an affirmation, still looking at the sky. you smiled at his expression, turning back towards the sky. 

“it’s cold,” spike said, sitting back up, “let’s go inside,” you offered, standing up and walking back towards the entrance of the bebop. spike was trailing behind you, gummy bear package in hand. 

the loud noise of the gears turning as the gate to the take-off strip closed finally came to a cease. you plopped down on the couch, sighing softly before spike sat down next to you. “feel real good,” he drawled before lying his head down on your lap and smiling up at you. 

you just laughed softly,  your hand falling to spike’s hair out of instinct. “do you have someone you miss?” spike spoke softly, the conversation taking an abrupt turn. you sucked your bottom lip in before deciding to speak. spike was being vulnerable, the least you could do was reciprocate his vulnerability.

“yeah,” you said plainly, trying to control the shakiness of your voice, “don’t think i’ll ever be able to get em’ back, though. try to tell myself it’s no use to think about them, but i can’t help it,” your voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence.

spike squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to shake away a vision before he spoke quietly, “i miss her, fucked up bringing her into my life,” your hand paused in his hair for a moment, latching onto his every word, “don’t even know where she is, even if i did, i don’t know if i could face her,”. the room grew silent for a moment, your hand resuming its ministrations in spike’s hair.

“love sucks, huh?” you said simply, spike giving you a weak smile. “s’like,” you paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, “no matter how hard you tried to forget, it’s still there, still in the back of your mind,”. spike’s eye lit up at your words. he pushed into your hand, and you hadn’t even realized your hand had stopped.

you continued playing with his hair as spike spoke, “i try so hard not be stuck in my past, but it’s always there, like you said, in the back of my mind,”. you looked down at spike nodding. the room grew silent once more, neither of you itching to say anything. 

“jus’ wanna forget,” spike said, his voice breaking slightly. he sat up abruptly, leaning beside you on the couch. he turned to face you, his face closer to you now. “don’t you wanna forget?” he said, his eyes crinkling. you could feel the heat flush to your cheeks, and you nodded, afraid your words would betray you.

next thing you knew spike’s lips were on yours. you hesitated for a moment before reveling in the feel of the kiss. your hands fell to spike’s hair, spike’s hands tracing down your body. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap. you let out a slight gasp, pulling away for a moment and looking at spike.

you kissed him once more, mumbling into spike’s lips, “jus’ to forget,”. spike lifted a bit off of the couch, trying to lean into the kiss more, his hands drifting to your backside. spike hummed into your lips, agreeing. 

spike was peeling your shirt over your head as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. the kiss was quickly becoming more desperate, muffled moans and grunts falling from both of your lips. you couldn’t help but rock on spike’s laps, your arousal dampening your panties.

“sh-shit,” spike pulled away, leaning his head back on the couch. you continued to grind on his lap, your hands tracing over his chest, his shirt fully unbuttoned. “jus’ like that,” he groaned, before pulling you in for another kiss, your whimpers being muffled by his lips

your hands fell to the button of his pants, fumbling with the item before an abrupt clearing of the throat interrupted you. you pulled away from spike’s lips quickly, looking towards the doorway. 

faye was leaning along the wall, smirking at the pair of you. you quickly removed yourself from spike’s lap, grabbing your shirt from the floor. “and to think i only came for a glass of water and got a free show,” 

“s’not for free actually, pay up” spike grumbled, buttoning back up his shirt. you stood up from the couch, desperately wanting to cave in on yourself as you spoke softly, “goodnight, spike,”. 

you looked down at the man, an apologetic expression on your face. “goodnight,” he said, smiling up softly at you.“night, faye,” you said, passing by her. “night y/n!” she yelled down the hall, “cute bra by the way,”. 

“shut up faye!”

you hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, tossing and turning, throwing the covers off of your body before curling up in them once more. you knew faye was going to give you shit about it in the morning, and you could deal with that. 

but what did this mean for you and spike?

you awoke to ein licking at your face, ed chanting at the end of your bed, “bacon! bacon! bacon!” she grinned, ein barking at her excitement. “alright, fine,” you grumbled, “just get ein off of me!”.

edward grabbed the dog from the bed, ein licking her face, “yuck! your breath stinks ein,”. you laughed at edward, patting ein’s head. “come on, ed,” you said, walking down the halls of the bebop. you were silently praying that spike was still asleep.

you walked into the kitchen to find faye sitting at the countertop, drinking coffee. she smirked at you over her cup, “good morning, sunshine!” she said in a sweet tone, “morning faye,” you replied. you turned to look at her, grabbing the bacon from the fridge. 

she set her coffee cup down at the countertop, smiling at you. “faye,” you whined, drawing out the e. “we have a lot to discuss, very important things to discuss,” she whispered, ed sitting on the floor playing with ein.

“let me at least make some coffee first,” you grumbled, putting the first piece of bacon onto the pan. 

ed was happily chewing on her bacon, playing chess in the living room. you and faye sat at the countertop, coffee cups in hand. “first off,” faye started, and you prepared yourself for the slew of judgements to be thrown at you. “what the fuck?”.

“let me explain,” you assured her, faye just clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “no need for explanations, it was like i walked in on a porno,” “hey! it was not that bad,” you chastised, looking back down to your coffee.

“we were high, it didn’t mean anything, trust me,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. your stomach turned at your words, but you ignored it. “it better not of, cause we’ve got a bounty to catch, and i can’t have you lovebugs getting in the way of cold, hard money,” faye said.

you laughed softly, “you’re just gonna gamble it away anyways,”. faye pushed your shoulder, “and who’s gonna be getting wasted at the bar while i invest my money wisely,” she teased. “oh yeah, you’re a prime example of a smart spender. at least my money is wasted on vodka,”. she took a sip from her coffee, “is that really that much better?”.

you both laughed softly, ed cheering from across the room at a smart chess move she had made. you and faye sat at the countertop for a while, conversing. faye had gone to shower, leaving you in the kitchen. you washed your two coffee cups, drying them off afterwards.

“morning, spike!” you heard ed say happily from across the room, your eyes shooting up. “g’morning kid,” he grumbled, walking over to the countertop while rubbing his eyes. “morning,” you said, trying to contain a sense of normalcy within your voice.

“hey,” he said, his voice softening. “i-i’m gonna go shower,” you said, spike nodding. you walked out of the kitchen, rushing towards your bathroom once you were out of spike’s line of sight.

“slow down, speed racer,” jet joked as you brushed past him. “sorry, jet,” you said, smiling sheepishly. you opened the door to your bathroom, closing it quickly after.

you leaned against the metal of the door, taking a deep breath. why couldn’t you just act normal? last night hadn’t meant anything, it was just to forget. you rationalized last night, realizing your actions were out of proportion. spike wouldn’t act differently, so you decided not to either.

a knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. you unlocked it, sliding open the door. “spike?” the man pushed inside of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “can’t just fuckin ignore it,” he said, shaking his head.

“wanted more last night,” he said, staring at you intently. “know you did too,”. “spike, w-we can’t,” you reasoned, spike backing you up against the wall. “why not? it’s harmless sex,” “harmless sex,” you repeated. spike nodded, “just to forget,” you whispered, “just to forget,” spike repeated.

you pulled him in for a kiss, moaning at contact. you had been itching for the feel of his lips on yours since last night. his hands quickly fell to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head. he pulled away for a moment, unbuttoning his own shirt before his lips found yours once more.

your hand fell to his pants, tugging at them, hoping that spike would get the message. he read you loud and clear, pulling his sweats down and attempting to shimmy out of them. his pants pooled at his feet as he tugged at your sleep shorts pulling them down your body.

spike lifted you up, your legs latching around his waist. he stepped out of his sweats, walking you over to the countertop. his hand drifted to your lace-covered center, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. “can feel it through your panties, you’re dripping,” spike teased. “fuck,” you sighed, your head falling back into the mirror.

“can’t say i’m much better,” spike groaned, grabbing your hand and pulling it to his bulge. you gasped slightly, looking at him. he was big. spike just smirked up at you, grinding his bulge against your center. the fabric between the two of you created more friction, whimpers falling freely from your lips as spike groaned lowly into your shoulder.

he placed kisses onto your skin, pulling away for a moment, “want it?” he asked, grinding into you more. “gonna-fuck-gonna be too loud,” you whined, looking at spike. spike pulled away from you completely and you whimpered at the loss of contact. 

he turned on the shower, the water falling from the showerhead, creating noise as it hit the floor of the shower. “problem solved,” he said, smiling at you. he kissed you once more, his fingers pulling your panties to the side, rubbing at your slit. he moaned into your mouth pulling away, “won’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ ready for me,” spike said, his eyes staring at his finger rubbing through your slit, the digit quickly becoming covered in your slick.

“n-need you inside!” you yelped as spike’s thumb rubbed at your clit. “fuck,” spike sighed, pulling his boxers down your legs. you shimmied out of your panties, lifting your hips from the countertop of the sink. you kicked them onto the floor, grabbing at the back of spike’s head, kissing him. he pulled away breathless, looking at you.

“you’re sure?” he asked. you couldn’t help the way your heart slightly palpitated as you nodded eagerly. “are you?” you asked, your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. he nodded the same as you had. “okay,” you said quietly, spike repeating the word as he pushed into you slowly.

you both let out a slight gasp at the push inside, smiling at one another after. as spike pushed further inside, the whimpers and mewls falling from your lips grew in volume. he bottomed out, pulling you in for a kiss, groaning into your mouth. 

“so fuckin’ tight, clenching on me,” spike groaned. you whined as spike pulled out slightly, thrusting back into you. you both let out airy moans at that. spike was breathing deeply as you adjusted to the feel of his cock inside of you. “m-move!” you mewled, desperate for more, “please, want it!”. spike obliged, his eyes lingering on his cock pushing in and out of you. 

his eyes raked over your body, looking up at your face contorted in pleasure. “so good, spike! s-so good!” you whimpered. his cock brushed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. “oh fuck,” spike moaned airily. 

he nuzzled his face into your neck, his moans and groans muffled by your skin. “c-close!” you yelped. spike pulled away from your lips, his forehead pressing against yours. “come on,” he said, his voice shaky. “lemme feel it, wanna feel you cum on my cock, come on, angel,” he rambled, thrusting in and out of you at a rough pace now.

spike brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. “s-spike!” you moaned as you came on his cock, your toes curling, a mantra of spike’s name falling from your lips. 

spike took in your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly. he looked down to the ring of white around his cock, moaning at the sight. he looked back up at you, your eyes open now. 

“cum inside, i’m on the pill,” you said, panting. “wanna feel it inside me,” you whimpered. spike moaned, throwing his head back. your hands traced over his abs, your nails scratching softly at the skin. “y/n, fuck, gonna, gonna-” spike groaned. his head fell into your shoulder, his moans muffled by your shoulder as his warm load filled you.

you sighed as spike’s thrust slowed, spike bottoming out once more. “fuck,” he sighed, the explicit turning into a soft laugh. you joined in, laughing softly. you pulled him in for another kiss, smiling into his lips. 

he pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the stretch. you closed your legs abruptly, not wanting his cum to leak out of you and onto the floor. “no keep em open,” he said, his hand falling to your thigh, “wanna see it pool out of you,”. you raised an eyebrow at him, “i’ll clean it up,” he promised. you obliged, opening your thighs.

“fuck,” spike groaned, watching his cum leak out of you. you laughed softly at his astonishment, spike looking up at you. “what’s so funny?” he asked, smirking. “didn’t take you as being interested in cum play, but now that i think about it though, it makes a lot of sense,” you teased, smiling at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, raising his eyebrow. “oh, nothing,” you joked, grinning at him now. you pushed yourself off of the countertop, standing next to spike now. “get in the shower, bozo,” he joked. 

“only if you join,” you teased, leaning close to him, “ya kinda smell like shit, spike,” you joked. “smell didn’t bother you earlier, huh?” spike teased, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you stepped into the shower, spike behind you.

the water cascaded over your bodies, your head pressed against spike’s chest as the smell of your tangerine soap flooded your senses.

the bounty was on a well-known gambler, who had a tendency to rob casinos where he had lost his money. he always had two pretty women on his arms, though it boggled your mind how he did, the man not being particularly attractive, his personality even worse.

that’s why you had an issue with the plan to catch this bounty. you and faye were sent in to be his arm-candy for the night. the plan was to approach him at the bar, he’d take one look at the two of you, and drag you to whatever table he and his entourage sat at that night.

faye had gone in a dark red, spaghetti strap gown, and you in a black strapless gown, the top of your breasts peeking out perfectly from the dress. your hair had been pinned up, a few strands falling to frame your face. 

you walked out from your room in the chosen attire for the night, a scowl on your face. faye whistled as you entered the room with a yell of “do a little spin,”. her commentary brought a smile to your face as you smiled softly with a holler of “you first,”.

you looked over to spike, his eyes raking over your figure. you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach, spike’s eyes raising to your face and offering you a sheepish smile, knowing he’d been caught.

you laughed softly to yourself as jet began explaining the plan for tonight. 

you stood at the bar, sipping on a vodka cranberry as you waited for the bounty to approach the bar. faye and you had on undetectable earpieces as you leaned against the bar, scouting the area. spike sat at a blackjack table not too far from the bar, acting as a protective measure. 

you knew as soon the bounty entered, a large mass of people coming into the bar, everyone turning to them and murmuring. you and faye just had to wait patiently until they approached the bar. you figured that the group would secure a table before coming to the bar. 

you toyed with the ice in your cup, sighing softly. “he’s headed over,” you heard spike’s voice in your ear, shivering at the sound. you put on your best fake smile, sitting down on the bar stool. you pushed your arms together, accentuating your cleavage.

faye sat opposite of you, in a similar pose. “right behind you,” spike said, your body slightly tensing before you forced yourself to relax. “what are two beautiful ladies like you doing all alone?” the man groveled, an ugly grin on his face.

god, men were so predictable. 

you turned around on your stool, forcing a sultry smile onto your expression. “looking for someone to make us feel less alone,” you said in a seductive tone, the man laughing softly.  “you’re in luck then,” the man drawled, grabbing you by your waist and spinning you into him.

you had to physically stop the bile forming in your throat, letting out an airy giggle in response. spike’s voice was sounding through your earpiece, “never heard you laugh like that before,”. you tried your best ignored spike’s commentary, latching your arm around the man, faye on the opposite side of him.

you had been seated at a poker table for a good hour now, clapping your hands together enthusiastically to cheer on the man who was your bounty for the night. you had grown exhausted with your facade, but you just had to wait for the perfect opportunity. 

you leaned up against the man’s side, your hand falling to his thigh. “think i left something in my ship, would you mind walking me out?” you said, peering up at him your eyes wide.

he clicked his tongue to the side of his mouth, smirking, before grabbing your waist, and sliding out of the booth. he walked you out of the casino, his hand falling to your backside, full-on grabbing your ass. you held back from ripping his dirty hands off at you, silently praying for the moment where you could give this fucker what he deserved.

“where’s your ship?” he said as you got further into the parking lot. you just smirked at that, faye walking out from the casino. “about that,” you sighed before landing a roundhouse kick to the man’s face. he fell to the ground groaning, and you kicked him once in his stomach for good measure.

you knelt down next to him, pulling the gun from his pants as you hovered over his face, “just so you know, not every woman wants your grimy hands all over them, i’m not a piece of fuckin property,”. you stood back up fully, towering over the man. spike walked out from behind his ship, handcuffs in hand. 

“you, though,” he drawled, sitting the man up and handcuffing his hands behind his back, “are property of the bebop,”. you just smiled at spike, walking him back to spike’s ship. “hurry before his buddies come out here,” you said, basically shoving the man into spike’s ship

“sure you can handle em?” he asked, full and well knowing you were capable of defending yourself. “have i ever had a problem?” you smirked, spike just laughing softly. the pair of you walked away from spike’s ship and back to the entrance of the casino. just in time, you thought. 

“sorry, boys,” you smirked, walking over to the group. faye had positioned herself along the wall of the building, acting as backup for when the fight began. “seems like your friend left,” you shrugged.

“you bitch!” one of his friends shouted, charging at you. you dodged the punch he had thrown, grabbing his arm before flipping him onto his back on the ground. he laid there, squirming in pain. a second man charged at you, spike easily stopping him by swiping the man’s leg with his foot. the man tumbled over, spike landing a kick to his face for good measure.

“who’s next?”

you, faye and spike had cleared out the group, the men laying near the exit of the casino, moans of pain sounding out in the silence of the night. “see ya back on the bebop,” you waved to faye, then to spike with a smile, opening the door to your ship. 

you had decided that after all your hard work, you deserved a treat. you set your ship down near the closest 24 hour liquor store. you opened the door, a bell ringing. you gave a soft wave to the cashier before ducking down the isle, in search of a bottle of wine. 

you grabbed the cheapest one from the shelf, shuffling through the items in your clutch, pulling out your id and card. you set the wine down in front of the cashier, “this all?” he asked, to which you nodded simply. “5.50,” he totaled the amount, and you handed him your card. 

“have a good night,” you said simply, opening the door of the liquor store, the cold air brushing against your face as you walked back to your ship.

“rough night?” spike joked, walking into the living room of the bebop. you simply smiled at the parallel of his words with yours from the night before as you spoke, “guess you could say that,” you sighed, propping your feet up on the table.

the clock read 2:37 AM. the bounty you had collected tonight was on a man named hobi jones, wanted for numerous armed robberies. he now was in the holding cell of the bebop, the plan being to drop him off to the police station in the morning. 

“looks like you’ve turned to the drink,” spike commented, his hand motioning to the bottle you brought to your lips. “a little cheap wine never hurt anybody,” you smiled, handing the bottle over to him. “merlot? didn’t realize it was that bad of night,” spike joked, taking a sip from the bottle.

“hey!” you laughed, “i chose the cheapest shit, not my fault i’m a broke bounty hunter,” “kinda is your fault,”. you both sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle amongst yourselves. “you’re plotting,” spike said, eyeing you. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “huh?” you said simply, smiling softly.

“well, i mean, you’re sitting on the couch, looking like this” his eyes raked over your figure, “and you seduced me into joining you for a bottle of wine,” “seduced you?” you asked, your smile growing now. “if anything,” you teased, setting the bottle down on the table before positioning yourself atop spike’s lap, “i think you coming in here shirtless, practically naked, is a bit slutty, don’t you agree?”. 

spike laughed softly at your words, his hands falling to your hips as he rutted you against his lap, “what are you gonna do about it?” he said simply. your lips were on his in an instance, soft hums falling from both of your lips. “looked so fuckin’ good in that dress tonight,” spike mumbled into your lips, his hands digging into your ass.

“w-wanna blow you,” you whimpered, pulling away from spike’s lips. “god, please,” he groaned, looking down at you as you kissed down his chest. your hands fell to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down his legs. you palmed him through his boxers, his cock already half-hard. 

you tapped at his left thigh, spike lifting his hips up slightly. you tugged the boxers down his body, the fabric pooling around spike’s feet. his cock sprung up, slapping softly against his stomach. “fuck,” you sighed airily, your thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading his precum against the tip of his cock.

“shit,” spike hissed, leaning into your touch. one hand hovered one spike’s thigh, softly scratching at the skin. you wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking gently, spike letting out a loud sigh. your free hand wrapped around the base of spike’s cock, moving up and down his length along with your mouth.

you pulled away from his member, a string of saliva connected to your lips. you grinned up at spike, the man putting a hand over his eyes with a mutter of “you’re trying to fuckin’ kill me,”. you laughed softly, your eyes falling back down to his cock. 

you planted your hands on his thigh, mumbling against the tip of his cock,  “fuck my throat,”. spike’s breath hitched as he stared down at you, his jaw slack. “please,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. you opened your eyes at the feeling of spike’s thumb brushing across your cheek. 

“yeah? open wide then, tongue out,” spike smirked down at you. your tongue lolled out of your mouth, spike’s hands latching into your hair as he inched your mouth down his cock. “fuck,” he drew out the word, “so good,”. your nose brushed against the skin of his pelvis as you gagged around his cock, your nails digging into his thigh.

“fuck,” he groaned, pulling you off of his cock, “looked so pretty choking on my cock,”. tears were forming in your eyes, close to pooling over your lower lid. a string of spit was connected to your mouth as you panted, catching your breath. “want my cum down your throat?” spike asked, already knowing the answer.

you nodded eagerly, planting your hands back on his thighs. “just use me,” you whined, your hand falling into your panties and rubbing at your clit. spike’s hands were back on your hair, your mouth wrapping around his saliva covered member. “shit,” spike groaned, thrusting into your mouth slightly. “just want me to use you, huh?” his voice was shaky now, spike getting closer to his release.

you gagged on his cock, the sound of you choking sounding throughout the room. tears were falling down your cheeks now, your nose slightly runny, but you reveled in it. you loved the sound of spike losing his mind above you, his hands gripping your hair tighter.

“gonna flood your throat-shit-gonna take it all right?” spike moaned. you couldn’t answer, your mouth full of his cock. spike didn’t wait for an answer, his hip thrusting up once as he pushed you against the base of his cock, your nose pushed against the skin of his pelvis. spike’s load burst into your throat as you tried to swallow in time with the spurts.

he pulled you off his cock slightly, only the tip of his cock on your tongue as one of his hands fell to jerk his length. some of his cum dribbled down your chin as you breathed heavily. spike’s hands fell onto the couch next to him, spike throwing his head back. he looked back down at you, your hands in between your legs, your slick covering your fingers.

“i came,” you whimpered softly, bringing your finger to your lips and wrapping your mouth around the digit. spike laughed softly from above you, “so fuckin’ dirty,” he drawled, his fingers collecting the cum from your chin before being pushed into your mouth, your fingers sucking on his digit.

you smiled up at spike once he removed his finger from your mouth, sighing softly before standing up. “get to bed,” you said softly, “we’ve got some money to make tomorrow,”. spike smiled up at you, “drinks tomorrow?” he said, causing you to pause in walking to your bedroom.

you turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning, “only if you’re paying,”

the crew had collected a decent amount of money from the bounty, the sum being spent between the four of you, and ed received spending money out of each of your amounts. 

your newfound--and most likely short-lived--wealth was being spent at the bar, spike sitting on the stool next to you. “another round please,” spike raised his hand slightly, the bartender nodding. your cheek was on your hand, your arm leaning on the countertop as you faced spike. 

“you wanna know why i’m such a good kisser,” spike leaned next to your ear, whispering. you laughed softly, raising one eyebrow, “who said you were a good kisser?” you teased. the bartender poured more vodka into your two shot glasses, spike asking for a small bowl of cherries.

“you know i’ll let that dig slide,” he smirked at you, “only cause you look so good,”. you blushed at spike’s words, regaining your composure, “not to bad yourself, spiegel,” you smiled softly. the bartender placed a small glass bowl of cherries next to spike, spike uttering out a short thanks.

“back to my amazing kissing skills,” he said confidently, causing your smile to grow. “watch this,” he said, staring you intently. he took one of the cherries, the stem held in between his thumb and pointer finger. he popped the fruit into his mouth, only the stem held in between his fingers.

“now for the main event,” he smiled, placing the cherry stem on his tongue. he closed his mouth, still staring at you, his eyes twinkling. you could see his cheeks moving, his tongue tying the cherry tongue into a knot. 

he stuck his tongue out, his words jumbled, “see? told you,”. spike stuck his tongue back in his mouth as you muttered, “oh shut up,” attaching your lips to his. the kiss took spike by surprise before he melted into it, his hand falling to your waist. you pulled away, smiling at spike before sticking out your tongue, the cherry stem on your tongue. “see?” you drawled, mimicking spike.

the night ended with spike hiking up your dress in one of the bathroom stalls, his cock pushing into your warm walls. 

you woke up with a blasting headache, the alcohol from last night coming back in full-swing. you groaned, sitting up in your bed, your head in your hands. begrudgingly, you made your way to the kitchen.

the bebop was unnaturally quiet, ed’s laughter wasn’t sounding throughout the living room, nor was faye’s ridiculing tone. you walked into the kitchen, spike sitting at one of the stools at the island. 

“where is everybody?” you asked, pouring yourself coffee from the pot. “jet is at the bank making an investment or some dumb shit like that, faye’s at the casino, and ed,” he paused for a moment, “i don’t know where ed is,”.

you laughed softly, “she always finds her way back here so i’m not too worried,”. you groaned quietly, rubbing at your forehead. “hangover?” spike questioned, to which you nodded. “mrs. cherry stem can’t hold her alcohol then?” spike teased. you just shook your head with a soft smile, “fuck off,” you joked, standing up and opening the kitchen cabinets in search for advil.

“if anything,” you started, finding the advil and popping open the container, “you’re mr. cherry stem, you started that bullshit,”. you put the advil container back away walking over to the stool you were sitting in. 

“i thought you’d be glad i started it, i mean from the way you were yelling my name in the bathroom last night,” he raised his voice an octave, taking on a more nasally tone, “spike! spike!”. you shoved him in his shoulder, spike mocking hurt as he clutched his shoulder with a pouted lip.

“you know you really shouldn’t take advil, doesn’t help much,” he said plainly, taking a sip from his coffee. “i have a much better hangover cure,” he proclaimed, standing up from his seat. you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him shuffle around the kitchen, pulling out a multitude of items.

when he had finally gathered everything, he pointed his finger at you, raising and eyebrow as he tried to contain a smile. “now watch very closely, i’ll only teach you this once,”. you laughed softly, raising your hand to your forehead in salute.

“raw egg yolk,” spike said, cracking the egg into a bowl, your upper lip curling in disgust. “bear with me,” he chuckled. he grabbed the yolk with a spoon, separating it from the egg whites. he placed it into the glass, smiling at you. 

“pepper,” he said, sprinkling the seasoning from the canister on top of the egg yolk in the glass. “now for my favorite part,” he celebrated, grabbing the bottle of gin, pouring some of the liquid into the glass.

“why do i feel like this is gonna make me more drunk if anything,” you sighed, laying your head on your arms as you watched spike. he smiled, “would that really be that bad?”. you chuckled in response, looking over at spike as he grabbed the hot sauce with a proclamation, “last ingredient!”.

“and there you have it, my speciality, a prairie oyster,” he cheered, pushing the glass over to you. “spike,” you began to complain, drawing out his name. “jus’ try it! it works wonders, promise you,” he reassured you. 

“if i die, i’m haunting you in the afterlife,” “i’d welcome it,”. you grabbed the glass, lifting it to your mouth, swallowing the entirety of its substance. “yuck,” you exclaimed after swallowing, sticking out your tongue. “they grow up so fast,” spike teased, causing you to smile over at him. 

“you want pancakes?” you asked, standing up from your stool as you moved throughout the kitchen, grabbing pancake mix from the pantry, blueberries from the fridge. “you know me so well,” spike said, standing up after you. he leaned on the wall, watching you mix the pancake batter.

“need some music,” he stated, grabbing his phone. dream by the pied pipers began playing through the speaker of his phone, spike’s arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “gonna make me burn myself,” you laughed, pouring the batter into the pan.

“dance with me then,” spike said, spinning you around. you gasped before smiling up at him. “may i have this dance?” he joked, curtsying. “you may,” the grin audible in your voice as you held out your hand.

spike grabbed your hand, pulling you close, his hands falling to your waist, your hands latching behind his neck. he hadn’t stopped looking at you, a soft smile still on his face. you shuffled around the kitchen, step-together-step, spike grinning now. 

“my pancake’s gonna burn,” you laughed softly, leaning up to give spike a chaste kiss before wiggling out of his hold. you walked over to the stove, grabbing the spatula and flipping the pancake over.

spike’s arms were around your waist once more, spike leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, only a thin tank top strap covering the skin. “so clingy today, spike,” you teased. “jus’ wanna be close,” he mumbled into your skin. “s’alright,” you said softly, your cheeks flushing with heat.

you felt that familiar feeling clutch onto your heart, but you pushed it away, not wanting to recognize what it meant, not wanting to be reminded of its familiarity. 

faye’s voice broke you from the comfort of spike’s arms, “hello lovebirds,” she said, walking over to the kitchen island. “faye,” you reprimanded slightly, telling her not to go any further. she just laughed, raising an eyebrow at you as spike now stood further away from you. he paused the music on his phone, his eyes still lingering on your face.

“you can take the first one spike,” you said, placing the blueberry pancake on a plate and handing it to spike.  

you were sitting on your bed, your mini yamaha keyboard sitting in front of you. your fingers played different chords as you quietly sung along. a knock on your door broke you from your tranquility as you raised your voice, “come in,”.

the door slid open, spike standing behind it. “hey,” you said, smiling up at him. you hadn’t really talked since this morning, faye interrupting whatever moment was going on between the two of you. maybe it was a good thing that she had interrupted you. 

maybe you were getting to attached, maybe this was becoming more than just forgetting. was it more for spike? “y/n, hey,” spike waved his hand in front of your face breaking you from your thoughts. “sorry,” you muttered, “zoned out for a sec, what’d ya need,” you said, patting the bed for spike to sit down.

he sat, tracing his finger across your keyboard, “didn’t know you played,” he said, looking at you intently. “not very well,” you smiled, “plus it’s a mini keyboard, not much i can do with it,” “play something for me,” spike suggested.

“i’m really not very good spi-” “please?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but oblige. your fingers pressed on the simple chords, your voice adding onto the music.

“sweet creature,” you sung softly, “had another talk about where it’s going wrong,”. you continued singing, your fingers pressing the keys in accordance to the notes you were singing. you couldn’t look up at spike, embarrassment consuming you as your eyes remained glued to your keyboard.

unable to cope with the feeling brewing in your stomach, you lifted your hand away from the keyboard. you mustered up the courage to look up at spike, his cheeks flushed a light pink, “y-your voice,” his voice broke for a moment, and you could visibly see him swallow. his voice grew quieter, “it’s really pretty,”.

you both sat there in silence for a moment. you could see the slightest hint of hurt etched on spike’s face, but it wasn’t your room to question why. you just wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug and muttering a “thank you,” into his skin. 

you don’t know how long you remained that way, but eventually spike’s arms were clutching onto you, your body acting as his anchor. you were his anchor.

though the two of you had gotten distracted for a moment, spike had originally come into your room to ask if you wanted to go grab something to eat. you now sat in a booth at spike’s favorite ramen restaurant. “s’good huh?” spike smiled as he watched you slurp up noodles.

“why have i never been invited here before?” you chastised jokingly, “can’t believe you would hide something like this from me,” you said dramatically, grabbing more noodles with your chopsticks. “i’ll only come here with you from now on,” spike promised. you couldn’t help the way your heartbeat quickened at his words.

“they give free matcha ice cream after the meal too,” spike added. you dropped your chopsticks into your bowl, looking over at spike with a smile. “i think i’m in heaven,” you reasoned, spike laughing softly.

spike had asked for the ice cream to go, and the pair of you now walked around the city center, matcha ice creams in hand. you pointed out a boutique, you and spike walking inside. the store was full of jewelry, candles, and other random items. you scanned through the rings sitting in a jewelry case. 

your eye fell on a green aventurine ring, the jewel grabbing your attention.”the green one?” spike asked, turning towards you. you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a soft smile on your face, “how’d you know?” you asked, looking back down at the ring.

“suits you,” he said, his shoulder brushing against yours, “get it,”. you shook your head, turning to look around the store, “blew most of my bounty money already, shouldn’t spend anymore,” you reasoned. “did i say you’d be paying?” spike said, almost as though it puzzled him that you thought you’d pay for your own ring.

“spike, i can’t let you d-” “quit being stubborn, grab the ring,” he interrupted, walking towards the cash register. you grabbed the ring, quickly following behind him. the cashier rang it up with a mumble of, “7 dollars and 37 cents”. spike handed her a 10 dollar bill before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the store.

he grabbed your hand, slipping the ring on your pointer finger, “s’pretty,” he murmured, looking back up at your face. “yeah,” you said softly, and before your brain could catch up, you were wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him in for a hug.

“thank you,” you mumbled into spike’s chest, the giving a short hum in answer.

though cacri had been a beautiful planet, you were glad to be somewhere with a beautiful beach. hot, white sand that toasted the soles of your feet, almost crystal clear water. you were lounging in a beach chair, an umbrella over your face. you were reading an old play titled blithe spirit, you had picked it up from a bookstore after the ramen date with spike.

you reasoned that you shouldn’t call it a date, feelings already being designated as non-acceptable. you sighed, pushing your sunglasses onto your hair. though spike was the reason for your inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but watch him splash ed with water. 

he had a huge grin on his face, and you could hear his laughter. your eyes raked further down his body, pausing on his abdomen before you turned your attention back to your book. 

“you brought food right,” you heard spike’s voice, lifting your head as you saw him jogging towards you. ‘mhm’ you nodded, leaning over your chair and tapping on the picnic basket.

“ohh yum,” spike cheered, pulling out the container of chocolate covered strawberries. “want one?” he said, holding the fruit out to you. you accepted with a smile, biting down on the chocolate covered delicacy. a small amount of juice dribbled down your chin, spike laughing softly at you.

“always so messy,” he sighed, his thumb collecting the strawberry juice before bringing the digit to his tongue and lifting it up. you could feel the heat in your cheeks, that familiar tingle spreading throughout your body. 

“bathing suit’s pretty on you,” he complimented, his eyes raking over your figure with a smirk. he bit the chocolate covered strawberry whole, placing the remains on the cover of the container. 

“thanks for the snack,” spike grinned, running back down towards the shoreline. jet groaned from beside you, flipping over onto his back. 

“you guys disgust me,” he grumbled.

jet and ed walked back to jet’s ship with calls of, “see you back on the ship,”. faye had spent the day at the casino, and you teased her slightly for it earlier in the morning when she discussed her plans for the day.

you and spike had crammed into his ship for the beach trip, and you found yourself attempting to stuff towels and a picnic basket into the tight area. eventually, you both were seated, spike’s ship lifting off. 

“heard this song the other day,” spike said, looking at you for a second before focusing his attention back in front of him. “search up hey lover by daughter’s of eve,” he said, tilting his head towards his phone that sat in the center console of the ship. 

you grabbed the device, typing in the song title. music flooded the speakers of spike’s ship as you smiled at his head bobbing along to the beat. “hey hey hey lover,” spike sung off pitch, causing you to laugh softly.

he smiled over at you, “s’ earth music,” he said, turning the volume down slightly. “from the 1960s or something, long time ago,” “s’neat,” you smiled over at him. spike’s hand fell back to the volume nozzle, the music growing louder once more. 

spike’s hand grabbed yours causing you to gasp softly. he closed your hand into a fist, using it as a makeshift microphone as he continued to sing off-key. “focus on getting us back to the bebop,” you laughed softly, pulling your hand from his hold.

you sought out comfort from spike, your hand grabbing his. you soon realized the gravity of your actions, planning to pull away, but spike’s hand softly squeezed yours. you let your hands rest latched together on the center console as the moon began its ascent in the night sky. 

spike had come into your room that night, his body snuggling against yours under the cover. your soft breaths became synchronized as his arm wrapped around your midsection, the pair of you drifting off into sleep

that morning when you woke up, spike was no longer next to you.

you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong. did he realize you had fallen in love with him? did you even realize it? you shook away the thoughts, getting into your ship.

spike had ignored you the entirety of the day, rushing out of the kitchen once he had seen you. you had decided that you needed some weed, something to calm you down. you were using it as a coping mechanism. you hadn’t gotten high in a while, most of your time spent with spike. 

you had blanked out the entire flight there, your brain on autopilot. you set your ship down, pushing open the door as you stepped out of your ship. the bell on the dispensary door rang, the cashier giving you a soft wave which you returned with a smile. you grabbed rolling paper, and a small bag of bud, the cashier totaling the amount.

“thanks,” you said softly, pushing open the door. you walked back to your ship, your mind flooded with images of spike, overrun with worries. on a lighter note, the planet you were on for this next bounty was actually one you had been to before. 

there was a beautiful lookout area that you had gone to with faye, and in no rush to return to the bebop, you set your destination for the lookout spot.

you had only been at the lookout for about 30 minutes when you felt the first drop of rain hit your skin. “fuck,” you grumbled. you set the joint down onto the dirt, stepping on it before you rushed into your ship. the rain was hitting the windshield, your ship lifting off as you headed back to the bebop.

the rain seemed to worsen as you got closer to the bebop, the raindrops hitting your windshield sounding like pellets. you set your ship down on the landing strip of the bebop, groaning at the thought of having to rush inside. you prepared yourself for the feeling of the cold rain on your skin, pushing open the door of your ship.

you yelped slightly, rushing down the landing strip and towards the entrance gate, which to your surprise, was already open. a figure was rushing towards you, and you soon made it out to be spike. the ship had been set down in the water for the night, close to the harbor, the lamplights from the sidewalk lighting up spike’s face.

“where were you,” he yelled as he rushed over to you. “you didn’t care earlier,” you grumbled walking towards the entrance of the bebop. spike grabbed your hand, turning you back towards him. “i was worried about you,” he yelled over the sound of the rain, and you couldn’t tell if tears were forming in your eyes or if it was just the rain. 

“yeah?” you yelled, your voice shaky, “all i’ve been doing all fucking day is worrying about you!” you ennunciated the last word with a jab to his chest. the rain was still coming down hard, your eyes squinting. “i can’t-” your voice hiccuped, your throat feeling tighter, “c-can’t do this anymore, spike,”. 

spike eyes remained at you, his bottom lip under his upper one. “it was jus’ to forget right?” you continued at spike’s silence, “so it doesn’t matter,”. you turned back walking towards the entrance once more.

“wasn’t to forget,” spike yelled over the rain, walking towards you as you paused your movements. “i-i was so scared this morning,” his voice quieted for a moment and you had to lean in to hear him. “you were humming something in your sleep, some tune,” he paused, looking down at the floor.

“every thing reminded me of her, every whistle i heard along to the melody of a song, every hum along to a certain tune,” he was looking at you now. “b-but for once, th-this wasn’t her anymore. i didn’t think about her,” spike’s voice broke. 

“it was only you,” he finished. you responded in the only way you saw acceptable, your hands planting on spike’s cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss. “s’ only been you,” spike mumbled into your lips. “only you,” you mumbled back. the kiss grew more passionate before you both pulled away, breathless. “

“i’m sorry,” he said, pulling you into him, your face pressing against the wet fabric of his shirt. “just want you,” you hiccuped, tears falling down your face now. “i’m not leaving,” spike reassured you.

the rain cascaded over your bodies, the memories of a past love washing away along with it. as the sky cleared, the moon marked the creation of new memories. new love blossomed with the dew.

[ghostly-shenanigans-in-progress]

BNHA X DP Crossover HCs

After the long wait and finals, here are my ideas for all the quirks/occupations and other concepts I devised for the DP characters in the BNHA universe. This was just for fun and for inspiration towards others interested in this crossover au in general. 

Tagging the people that were looking forward to this post based on the replies: @qoinq-qhost, @floralflowerpower, @tgfangirl4eva @goodfish-bowl, @whitehairglowinggreeneyedcrush and more. 

Anyways, happy reading, folks!

Mr. Lancer

Hero name: Mr. Scholastic

Quirk: Bookworm

Involves his iconic usage of literature titles & quotes for swears to become abilities corresponding to the novel’s contents/themes. Course, he is limited to only books he has read and can quote accurately. Additionally, his voice gets very raspy past two or three quotes as well.

Occupation: Homeroom Teacher for Class 1- A; He’s very dedicated to his new students and teaching the fundamentals of being a pro hero and more! Course, I don’t think his chamomile tea with a wedge of lemon is enough to help him relax from his students (*cough* Danny, Tucker and Poindexter) from their antics at times. 

Danny

Hero name: Phantom 

Quirk: Ghost core (Ok, @coffeecakecafe had the best name for this one gotta give credit here)

Able to do anything a ghost is perceived to do. Go through walls, disappear and fly. This is a one of a kind quirk as it was obtained from Danny’s old quirk being altered by a machine his parents made that would repurpose/alter an individual’s quirk based on their past family members' own metahuman genetics.

Danny is doing his best and trying to understand his new quirk without causing too much attention to himself while doing so but it seems like its been doing the opposite as of late. Thankfully, he won’t be doing it alone with all his classmates around to help him!

Sam

Hero Name: Black Dahlia 

Quirk: Overgrown 

Able to create any plant that she knows the biological makeup and content of in almost any environment. However, it is important for her to drink lots of nutrient rich water and take in enough sun if she plans to create larger versions of these plants.

Tucker

Hero name: Tech Master

Quirk: Tech Core

Located on his chest/heart area is a special energy core capable of powering electronics at a rate faster than anything made-man could ever hope to achieve. As a kid, Tucker would tinker away in his family’s garage on a suit that would harness his power to the fullest extent and lead a new era of support tech in the hero world.

Valerie

Hero name: Red Huntress

Quirk: Electromagnetism (Someone I’ve been trying to find their post on my blog had posted this idea and I fell in love with it ever since)

She’s like Static Shock but with a dash of magenta/ruby lasers she can create through focusing her electromagnetism through her finger tips. She is an expert with her quirk and has the best handle of her quirk than most of her peers. She is the most frequent visitor in the support equipment workshop next to Tucker, Poindexter and Danny. It’s how she built the hoverboard she has in the show that utilizes her electromagnetic abilities for both offensive and defensive maneuvers. (Also, I enjoy the idea that Bullet is Val’s uncle on her mom’s side and is her biggest supporter alongside her dad, Damien Gray).

Jazz 

Quirk: Serenity 

Helps calm individuals and give them a sense of safety/security when they’re around her in a 10 feet radius. Though, anyone out of range cannot be affected by her quirk and she needs to be conscious in order to use it.

She planned on becoming a pro hero but felt her powers were best suited for her dream profession as a psychologist. She has used her quirk a lot when Danny was overwhelmed with his studies prior to UA. Course, a phone call and sibling chat over the phone certainly does the job for Danny now when it comes to preparing material for exams. (Course, its up to you guys to decide)

Dash

Hero name: Rager

Quirk: Strength Magnification

Improves his physique and stamina by a large percentage for a set amount of time. Needs to be careful of how much/long he magnifies his body or else his body will become immensely sore. 

Kwan

Hero name: Rallier 

Quirk: Team Rally (50/50)

Able to duplicate himself 3-4 times while being able to power-up allies’ quirks or stamina with a rally chant to help the team. The more duplicates there are the rally effect multiplies/stacks on the individual but it can lead to dangerous outcomes for their quirk output. 

Kwan is the class representative for 1-A, he’s the best at the job and was more than thrilled to be the one leading his class in more ways than one.  

Paulina

Hero name: Enchantress

Quirk: Charm

If the opponent is flustered by her taunts or flirting, their vision will become altered and start seeing things that are not there. It works better on men than women and the opponent can snap out of it with enough willpower or if they’re not interested in her.

Star

Hero name: Ms. Meteorite

Quirk: Comet

Similar to Gran Torino’s Jet quirk except faster and she can create an explosive impact on where she lands. Similar to a meteorite landing on earth, she also learns to use this as a long distance move by punching fast enough as she descends to create wind pressure punches.

Poindexter

Hero name: Tex (like in Tex Avery; Danny gave him the idea!) 

Quirk: Slapstick

His appearance is black and white just like an old timey cartoon character as well as having the durability and cartoon powers of one. However, his quirk can only work as long as what he does with it is funny in the circumstance it’s used for. Sort of like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” rules in a sense. 

Sidney is part of Class 1-A just saying, I don’t care, this is Poindexter’s time to shine here to be the coolest/funniest person in the class. Also, Tucker’s most loyal friend/tester for new support items. 

Wes Weston

Hero name: Vigilance

Quirk: Deduction

He is able to deduct people’s identities to flaws/weak points for him to use against them and  exploit against problems. 

Class 1-B Representative and the most annoying/terrifying person that Danny has dealt with in his life. He was able to figure out that Danny’s quirk is not his own or more so that it's not natural and takes every opportunity to state this regardless if anyone is listening or not. 

Amber Mclain

Hero Name: Ember

Quirk: Fiery voice (50/50)

Her quirk uses the vibrations in her sining voice to conduct intense heat waves onto opponents or utilize to rumble the structures around here and even put out the flames from her quirk. Its like a combination of Present Mic and Endevours quirk but it leaves her with a strained or inflamed vocal cords with overuse. 

Third year student or an upcoming rock star that has certainly gain huge popularity after her song “Remember” was a nationwide hit amongst the younger generation. She’s striving to be the top hero while making her next hit to become the 1# song on the listings. 

Dani

Hero name: Phantwo (lol jk; unsure what her name would be)

Quirk: Poltergeist 

Similar to Danny’s quirk “Ghost”, except she has the additional ability to melt herself to a slimy puddle and use her ectoplasmic slime to trap or surprise opponents.

Clockwork

Hero Name: Clockwork

Quirk: Time Keeper

Clockwork’s quirk allows him to stop time for 5 to 15 minutes and be able to rewind it in the same amount of time. It can be one to multiple objects as long as he touches them in order to interact with them.

Principle of UA in this au. He’s quite a reserved man but still manages to visit and congregate with students throughout the school during lunch period. 

Flynn Fenton/Flynn Walker

Hero Name: The Green Knight

Quirk: Mineralization 

His quirk allows him to manipulate the minerals and inorganic materials in the atmosphere to create into crystalized constructs that are almost stronger than diamond. Luckily, the crystals have no value so he doesn’t have to worry about that aspect of his quirk. He does have to worry about his skin becoming dried out as a result of his quirk usage. 

Flynn is a third year student that loves to check up on his cousin, Danny, any chance he gets bc of the amount of work he does with his internships.

James Walker (or James W. Hausermann)

Hero name: Warden Wraith

Quirk: Plasma Apparatus

His quirk ionizes the electrolytes in the blood system into plasma. His entire body is composed of plasma giving him his skeletal appearance. He can create plasma chains, teleport from point A to B and more as long as he focuses and has enough energy at use. Course, he can have minor to severe dehydration and imbalance in his electrolyte levels from overuse. 

Occupation: CEO of an infrastructure security company/Provisional License Examiner just like Gang Orca.The ghost prison guards become his backup/helpers for the exam phases. (They’re just trained stuntmen with combat or military experience for the occasion).

Also, I like to think Walker has kids in this au who are in the Class 1-A group; they’re not hard to spot they take after their father with their skeletal complexion. 

Skulker

Villain name: Quirk Hunter

Quirk: Tracker

The moment Skulker makes eye contact with his target he will be able to hunt them down and find them anywhere no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. He can lock on to only one target, but he will be able to know their heart beat, quirk, be able to place a tracking/scent line that only he can see and will lead him to his target’s location. It lasts for over a day or a half.

Occupation: Skulker is known for capturing, info-detailing or “retiring” newcomer pros or specific quirk users for his clients that pay him handsomely for their targets, dead or alive. Thanks to Vlad, Danny was strictly intended to be captured alive by Skulker but sometimes he gets too thrilled by the hunt to not have a memento. Trust me, it's more of a dangerous 

Nicolai Technus 

Villain Name: Technus 

Quirk: Technopathy

A genius in his own right, even if he’s a little crazy, with the best ability possible for a man of science and innovation. As long as he knows the makeup and attributes of the machine, Technus is able to completely repurpose or change a machine’s qualities for offensive and defensive qualities. Whenever that be for a mech suit or hacking a high tech system for entry, he’s able to do it as long as he knows what it is and how it functions. An example is repurposing a slot machine into a submachine gun that shoots coins at the target. 

Vlad Masters

Name: Vlad Plasmius

Quirk: Vampire

Can do anything a vampire can supposedly do. However, he was able to manifest an additional aspect of this quirk which is the ability to copy any quirk users ability. Based on the type of blood he ingests decides the amount of time he can use the copied quirk for.

Occupation: CEO of his own hero firm, he is extremely selective with the interns he has that there is a major waitlist to be even consider for Masters Inc. Course, imagine the surprise Danny must of felt when he received an offer from Vlad right off the bat after the Sports festival. 

Bruce Guiles (Bullet)

Hero Name: Bullet 

Quirk: Sphyraena or Chimera Fish

Able to do anything a barracuda can do or the quirk is a 50/50 mutant quirk in which he has both the traits of a barracuda, Chimaeras and a touch of piranha from his parents being of one of these fish species hence Chimera. Bullet can do anything those fish can do overall but he can’t go too long without hydration from water. Water quality and its oxygen content also affect his abilities by a noticeable percentage but he still remains quite formidable as a quirk user.

Occupation: Captain of a coast guard team, he’s a strict military man with an amazing record of saving people from any disasters both on land and sea. Him and Walker are best buddies ever since they went to school together. 

Vortex

Hero Name: Vortex

Quirk: Storm Warning

Vortex can utilize any variation of a natural disaster depending on the environment he’s in. Hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, you name it he can create it for his use. However, despite his amazing control over his quirk it is still possible for him to create these disasters if he lost control or magnify another pre-existing one if he loses focus. 

Occupation: Storm-chaser/Forecaster; His control and knowledge in combating/predicting these natural disasters has led to him to be part of a storm chasing crew and they’re the best in helping disaster prevention teams evacuate citizens as a result.

Petra Eris

Hero name: Pandora

Quirk: Butterfly Effect

Can manipulate or prevent a chaotic event to happen if she was in proximity and present to prevent it to happen. Or even give a little chaos to the opponent to deal with during battle. 

One of the top ten heroes and most beloved heroes in the country. She is the best strategist in any team and has a way to predict any event before they happen given the necessity of it for her quirk to work in her favor. 

Johnny 

Vigilante name: Johnny 13

Quirk: Unlucky

Johnny manifests his bad luck into a shadow that will latch onto opponents and cause unfortunate events to occur more for that individual as a result. However, the shadow cannot exist in complete sunlight; it can only remain if there are already shadows in his general area or it’s nighttime and its effects are strongest at that time obviously.

Occupation: Johnny is the leader of a biker gang or de-facto leader of said biker gang who loves to raise hell and helping folks that need saving whenever he’s around or is up to the task. Kitty tags along with him to help him out of jams and bc she loves him. :3

Kitty

Vigilante name: Kitty

Quirk: Lovesick

Kitty sends a smooch towards her opponent which if it makes contact causes the individual to have nausea or become disoriented for around 10 minutes. It can also have a chance of lasting longer if the individual was sort of infatuated with her regardless of gender. 

Pariah Dark

Villain name: King Pariah

Quirk: Ultimate Adaptation 

Similar to all for one except with the unpredictability for both the user and opponents. Pariah can manifest any type of quirk needed to defeat anyone that stands in his way both one-on-one and in groups. Course, drawbacks are the learning curve to some of the quirks and that multiple adaptions he utilizes at once will destroy his cells in the process. 

Pariah is a former follower of all for one who had unique quirk that All for one augmented to help him succeed if both Shigaraki and Tomura failed in their own conquest for the world. But now Pariah has his own plans to succeed where they failed and become the leader who shapes a new world order with an iron fist. 

Frederick Kingsmen

Villain/vigilante name: Fright Knight

Quirk: Burning Energy Infusion

Able to form/infuse objects with his own burning energy life force that is capable of burning or slicing through any in his sight. The sweat he gives off is what provides the material needed to ignite his unnatural flames despite it causing his body to overheat still. 

Fright Knight is Pariah’s second-in-command with a loyalty to him as strong as his control over his power. Fright Knight has faced many pro-heros as he carried out the smaller phases of Pariah’s plans and most of them barely came close towards defeating or leaving as much as  scratch on the knight. 

Rodolfo Gonzalo  

Hero name: Wulf

Quirk: Werewolf + Portal creation (50/50?)

Can do anything a werewolf can supposedly do; somehow it allows him to create portals with his claws to locations he has marked with them or visited in the past. 

Wulf was abducted on by Pariah’s forces and sent into the Nomu labs for experimentation to force on another quirk and instill complete allegiance to their cause. Course, Wulf broke free as a result of that new additional quirk allowing him to escape their clutches and his previous one helping him survive the endeavor. However, he lost his memories in the process and could only remember his native language, Spanish, and his hero name Wulf. 

Overgrown

Villain/vigilante Name: Overgrown

Quirk: Plant Manipulation

Can manipulate any pre-existing plant matter or create new vegetation if water and soil is present for the process or he understand the biological makeup of the plant in question. 

Occupation: Pro-hero or eco-terrorist who is tired of humanity from abusing the environment from quirk battles to industries using the land for their own benefits and none others.

That’s all I have for now! I hope this was worth the wait, guys. As well as, inspire ideas for your takes with a DP x BNHA Crossover! 

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[yelenasdog]

hurricane (brian may x fem reader)

request by the wonderful @speciallyred w prompts 45 and 58 from this prompt list! i was super nervous to write this bc i love her writing but i hope u enjoy!!

genre: per request of anna, angsty! but it ends w some fluff to mend ur broken heart hehe

summary: he’s never home, and neither is she. he can’t communicate, and she just wants to be loved.

words: 1.5k this was supposed to b a drabble OOPS

warnings: crying, sadness, mentions of marriage+kids, mentions and accusations of cheating, i think that’s it but as always, lmk if i missed any!

a/n: ok so a. y/n wasn’t used so if u wanted this do bri x some other female or oc that would work, and b. i also didn’t use anything that would keep this from being able to be read as a gwil!bri fic :) mwah (also i just realized this but this could totally be a song fic for i want love by elton john ok bye luv u)

 ⭑ 🎸

It was deathly silent in the spacious former home of Brian and his beloved, that had now been reduced to only a house. The ticking of the grandfather clock he had insisted that they had to have when they moved in could be heard ringing out and echoing, pestering the girl to no end.

It was always quiet in their house, even when they fought. There was never a rushed bustle of children you had to get out the door to school, and not even a cat or dog to create a disruptive chaos as they ran about, muddy paws leaving marks on the floor.

There would be the occasional record playing lowly, the notes floating about the house, and sometimes if she couldn’t sleep, she would have Bri play her a soft tune on his old acoustic, his voice having no issue bringing her to rest.

But even now, during one of the most heart wrenching fights that the pair had gone through, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the hardwood flooring.

As Brian was a soft and gentle man, never yelling or raising his voice in the slightest. He wasn’t mean or cruel, in fact, his entire aura calmed her to no end, which is why she supposed she hated this so much.

She scanned with careful eyes over his silhouette, watching as stray curls rustled from the draft coming in from the open window, goosebumps raising on both of their exposed arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just you, Bri.”

He rolled his eyes from where he sat on the white sofa, moving his fist under his chin. A scoff fell from his rosy lips as he turned his head to look out the window, not actually paying any mind to the green hills, a light frost covering the entire landscape.

“So are you just going to ignore me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

A salty tear rolled down her face, the incoming breeze hitting her dampened face. She inhaled sharply, her chilled skin becoming slimy and cold to the touch.

Brian wouldn’t know that, though, he hadn’t touched her in days. Weeks, even.

She had wanted to say that his words were malicious, with venom dripping from his tone, like some sort of acid was coating his vocal cords.

But they weren’t. His voice never raised a damn octave, staying completely neutral. And it was driving her mad.

“Then what is this, Brian?”

“I’m collecting my thoughts.”

She laughed, the sound lacking its usual melodic intonation that the guitarist adored so much. He was the reasoning behind the dry chuckle, that much he knew, and he hated it. God, how he despised it. But, he would never let it show. How could he, when he was the initiator of the (extremely childish, now that he thought over it) conflict to begin with? He knew his accusation was emptier than the large building they resided in, and he knew that the results would be horrendous.

But jealousy was an ugly green parasite that had rooted itself in Brian May’s heart, slowly consuming him from the inside out. It was like a devil that rested on his left shoulder, insisting that she was unfaithful, taking advantage of his extended leaves. He foolishly acted on the devil’s words, which led to where they were now.

“Well, how long do you need to ‘collect your thoughts’?” She folded her leg under her opposite thigh, leaning towards him, the distance of only a few feet feeling like worlds away to her broken heart. She would always be drawn to him like some sort of magnet, no matter how badly he hurt her.

“I’m not sure, would you like me to do so elsewhere?”

A beat passed.

“Why, so you can go shag someone else, just like I apparently have been?”

Again, silence.

“You were gone for 3 hours every night on every Tuesday the past month-“

“You kept track? You’re out of your damn mind.” She raised her voice, sitting up, suddenly enraged with his obsessive distrust rather than saddened.

“That’s not important-“

“What’s important is that you’re gone on tour for 10 times as long as that, leaving me here completely alone to my own devices! I trust you enough to believe that you remain mine while you’re away, but for some unknown reason, you can’t manage to think the same about me.”

His flippancy on the issue at hand agitated her (or his lack thereof in general, she supposed) to no end. She wanted him to scream and cry, to throw something, to loudly shout, to shed fury fueled tears as she had. She knew it was wrong, but quite frankly she didn’t care.

He tried to speak up for himself, stuttering out something about how he did in fact trust her, but all to no avail. She would have none of it, not now.

“What’s important, Brian, is that every Tuesday, I’m staying 3 hours after work to try to make it so that I don’t have to rely on you for money, because I don’t want you to think even for a moment I’m with you just because you’re some incredibly famous rockstar who happens to be loaded!”

She was standing now, although she couldn't quite remember bringing her body from the comforts of the soft chair by the mantle to her feet. The roaring fire beside her had died down into a flurry of golden embers, heat still radiating from the pile of charred logs, Brian failing to provide even a fraction of the same warmth.

“Because I love you, and as of late, I’m starting to wonder if you love me too.”

He stood, walking over to where she was in a timely manner, his long legs carrying him quickly. Her breath hitched at their sudden proximity, her surprise only growing when he gripped his hands on either side of her face, pulling her forward and capturing her lips in a long awaited union.

She loathed that her stiff figure was melting into him faster than she would like to admit, and she even more, she loathed the fact she knew she always would.

He was able to taste her tears that hadn’t ceased to roll down her face, the bitter droplets seeping onto the tip of his tongue. He pulled away, his right hand caressing her cheekbone while his forehead rested upon hers. His bottom lip quivered, a wave of emotions hitting him like a hurricane in full force.

His eyes become glassy, and all at once, tears flood his eyesight, pouring down his flushed features. He looked down, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. The bawling didn’t stop as he had hoped, though, it just slowed, the liquid dropping onto her shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. And ’m sorry, I’m so incredibly sorry, darling.”

She smiled softly, lightly massaging the top of his scalp, his locks growing frizzy.

“I know. But it’s just so hard- It seems everyone is getting married, and settling down. Hell, even Fred has his cats.”

They both laughed, and she chewed her bottom lip, a habit of hers that Bri had picked up on in the time he’d known her.

“I just get lonely, Bri, and it feels like you never let me know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. That’s all, honest to God.”

They moved to sit down, and he pulled closer than they had been in ages.

“I’ll support you in any way shape or form, no matter what, yeah?”

She simply nodded, leaning onto his shoulder.

“Yeah. I know.”

Raising his eyebrows, he cocked his head, choosing his next words carefully.

“And if you’re serious about, y’know, having a family and ‘settling down’ and everything, I’ll do it.”

She met his eyes, her smile growing wider.

“Really?”

He hummed, nodding his head. “I love you, and this house is far too quiet.”

She giggled, tossing her arms around his neck and throwing herself on him.

“I must say I agree.”

After the grins had retreated into soft smiles, and the two had come to a much more stolid point, she sat up, patting her lap.

Brian understood immediately, laying his tired head down and allowing her to play with his hair. She moved her hands to oh so lightly trace the crook of his nose and the bags under his eyes (from the late nights he spent performing, wishing he was in the exact position he was in now), the ticklish feeling making him nuzzle into her hand with a whine.

She couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful boy beneath her, as even with all the work that there was to be done between them, she felt confident that he was in it for the long haul.

🦔⭑ 🎸

me @ u for reading that

ty for reading, like and rb if u wanna :) go drink some water and eat some protein if u can!

as always, xx hj <3

[4dtk]

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway. 

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan. 

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed. 

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him. 

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?" 

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat. 

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look. 

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger. 

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his. 

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either." 

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!" 

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes. 

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down." 

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages. 

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing. 

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt. 

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed. 

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?" 

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made. 

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article. 

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host. 

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you. 

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves. 

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh." 

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's. 

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed. 

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31] 

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing. 

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?" 

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory. 

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?" 

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!" 

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door. 

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument. 

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33] 

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader. 

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview. 

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?' 

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking. 

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks." 

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room. 

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time. 

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile. 

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile. 

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things." 

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred. 

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye. 

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time. 

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones. 

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment. 

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings." 

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together. 

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression. 

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable. 

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could. 

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation. 

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous." 

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?". 

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

[kimetsu-no-reader]

AAAAA I just discovered ur blog and im in love, ur writing is AMAZING 🥺 could i please request giyuu x reader where giyuu sees reader for the first time after 4 years (basically since sabito's death as they were best friends before?) saving tanjiro squad from a demon (using whichever breath style you like!) And hes like, in shock bc its been so long and its just like a cutesy emotional reunion?? Maybe they hug eachother like crazy? Thank you SOSOSO much if u do this! 💖💗💕

AaAAAaAAa THANK YOU SO MUCH ;; That means so much to me!! 💖🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍 I’m so happy you enjoy my work, and I hope you enjoy this one!!

Giyuu Tomioka

You’d heard a faint scream in the distance as you were taking your usual stroll around the outskirts of the small village you resided in. You knew the scream all too well at this point; one that radiated the need for help.

You clenched the blade on your side and proceeded to run towards the aforementioned noise, making quick work of the ground as you all but glided across it.

The faint sounds of what seemed to be a bird talking also came across your ears.

“...demon! ...Tanjirou... trouble!” Those were all the words you could make out from where you currently were, but whoever this Tanjirou person was seemed to be in trouble. You were also well aware now that you were probably about to intervene with the Demon Slayer Corps, which made you feel slightly uneasy.

After a bit of sprinting, you finally came across a huge, relatively vile looking demon; along with it, a boy with a checkered haori, and another... boy (you assumed, given the lack of shirt) wearing a boar mask. Both were heavily wounded, the boar-wearing one more severely than checkerboard.

You feel like you’d hidden your presence well enough to land an attack on the demon in question, so you drew your sword; with one swift motion, you muttered, your breathing as steady as possible:

“Total Concentration: Breath of Water... Twelfth Form: White Water Riptide!”

Your sword sliced through the demon’s neck effortlessly, two thin streams of water following your sword, encircling the demon’s neck to deliver the killing cut.

As you landed softly onto the ground, you sheathed your sword, taking a deep breath as the demon’s head flopped on the ground with a heavy thud beside your feet; the ribbon you had tied in your hair had accidentally flown off when you killed the demon, landing in front of you as well.

The two boys in front of you just stared at you, the dark red haired one’s jaw was slightly agape. You couldn’t get a read on the other, though. But you were pretty sure his face was the same way.

“What?” You glanced at them, blowing a few stray strands of your hair out of your face as you addressed them.

“Who the hell are you?!” Yelled the brutish boar, who had way too much energy for looking like he’d been slung to hell and back.

“Inosuke!” Yelled the other, scolding him. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am!” He bowed his head, grabbing the back of Inosuke’s head and making him bow along with.

“We’re forever in your debt! Thank you for saving us!”

“Kamaboko Gonpachiro! Fight me!” Inosuke yelled in protest as the other’s hand gripped the back of his neck, still forcing him to be in a bowed position.

You leaned over to grab the ribbon from the ground, tying your hair back up as you stood straight again.

“Don’t mention it-” You said curtly, pausing mid-sentence and furrowing your brow. “Say, are you two part of the Demon Slayer Corps?”

“Yes ma’am!” Responded checkboard haori. He’s so polite. You thought to yourself.

“My name is Tanjirou Kamado, and this is Inosuke Hashibira!” He added, removing his hand from Inosuke and walking up to you. You were still incredibly puzzled as to how he was walking considering how damaged they looked.

“Why did the pig called you Konosuba Gazpacho?” You tilted your head, looking at Tanjirou. “Did he get hit in the head during your fight?”

Tanjirou stifled a laugh, but the other boy was definitely not pleased.

“LISTEN!” The half-naked one yelled, “Just because you saved us doesn’t mean you’re strong! Don’t go thinking you can talk to me like that!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes a little bit. “Yeah, okay.” was all you responded with.

Meanwhile, in the midst of squabbling with Inosuke, you hadn’t noticed the familiar presence behind you.

“You.” Came a familiar voice, and you froze. For the first time in years, your total concentration breathing had ceased momentarily; heart leaping into your throat. Your head turned slowly to look behind you, eyes widened as you gazed upon the raven haired man behind you.

He had dropped his sword, something that shocked the two boys in front of you.

“Giyuu-san!” Tanjirou yelled, his eyes lighting up as he addressed the water hashira. “Do you know this girl? She just saved our lives!”

You took a sharp breath of air, completely numb to all of the sound around you.

“Is that? Is that really Giyuu?” Is all you could think. Your hands were clammy, but you turned your body towards the taller man. You looked at his face, and noticed two glimmering lines of tears streaming down his face as he spoke your name.

Almost immediately, you were also crying. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you ran towards Giyuu, hugging him with enough force to make him stumble backwards, landing on his back as you lay on top of him, practically sobbing.

“Oh my god, it’s you! It’s really you!” You repeated over and over, pressing your face into Giyuu’s chest, his arms were wrapped around your small frame, pressing you closely against him.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” You cried, gripping his mismatched haori.

“I thought you were dead,” Tomioka mumbled, sitting himself and you up, his hands firmly grasping your shoulders as he looked at your face “I really thought you were dead. I-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, making Inosuke and Tanjirou turn around in embarrassment.

“Get a room, you animals!” Inosuke yelled.

You could feel Giyuu take in a sharp inhale of breath, his body growing warm with your sudden action. His face was stained a light shade of pink as well.

“I’m not dead,” You mumbled against his lips, breath quivering slightly as you spoke. “I just, I couldn’t deal with what happened to Sabito and Makomo and I-”

“Left?” The water hashira cut you off, the slightest hint of pain in his voice as he did.

You looked down, placing your hands in your lap, nodding slightly in acknowledgement.

Tomioka placed his hands on either side of your face, lightly cupping your cheeks and pulling your head up to look at him. His face had gone back to his usual calm demeanor, but a slight smile was present.

“Just don’t disappear again, alright?” His thumb trailed across your cheek, making you giggle a little at the touch.

“Fine.” You smiled, placing your hands on top of his.

Meanwhile, Tanjirou and Inosuke were whispering back and forth to each other about whether or not you two were an item, both wondering where the hell you came from.

��ටᆼට⋆

[pappydaddy]

Heather (j.m.)

A/N: I guess I’m back? I never really left, I was just kinda without internet and then I just completely lost all concept of time. Like I am not kidding, I have no idea what day it is. But anyway, I am working on my Steve Harrington series and trying to get the third part out soon and I have a bunch of ideas for imagines so I am going to be working on those, trying to get those out as soon as possible. This piece is inspired by sad bitch hours bc I like listening to sad songs even if I’m not sad?? So, this is inspired by Heather by Conan Gray. I also love writing sad angst after long breaks for some reason. ANYWAY, enjoy and check out the song bc Conan Gray is amazing. 

Show/Movie: Outer Banks

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader 

Warnings: Sad, angst, longing, negative thoughts about oneself (appearance, personality, etc), comparing to other people, jealousy, unspoken feelings

I think I’m going to do a part two, maybe even a part three, idk, we’ll see!

Link to an edited youtube video of this song (I used this one to write with)

Link to Spotify version of this song 

Part One - You’re here! | Part Two

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

  The cool ocean breeze blew past her as she sat on a piece of driftwood, the sound of waves lapping up onto the wet sand inches away from her bare feet calmed her. The beginnings of a party stirred the peaceful silence up behind her, disrupting the calm the ocean set. Her friends were up by the bonfire they started, talking and laughing about something. Y/N was torn. She didn’t know if she was sad to be missing out on the fun or if she was glad she didn’t need to plaster on her fake smile she usually had to wear around her. The newest addition to their small, tight-knit group. Normally, one of the boy’s flings wouldn’t affect her like this, but when it’s the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy bringing them around, she couldn’t help but feel her heart-breaking each time. 

  She had tried to deny her feeling for a long time, mostly because she knew that he’d never get into a serious relationship, it was just the way JJ was; the second reason was because of the rule: no Pogue on Pogue macking. Of course, the rule was able to give her a reason to keep her feelings a secret from everyone, but it was also what made her hurt so much. If she could just tell someone about her feelings, she’d be able to sit up there by the warm fire with her friends, laughing and joking with them. Instead, she kept her mouth shut about her feelings and she distanced herself from them whenever she was there. 

  Y/N hugged herself, wrapping herself up in warmth. The thin sweater she wore didn’t do much against the fall wind attacking her along with the breeze blowing off the ocean. Nights were colder, the summer humidity disappearing quickly, but it didn’t stop the teens from partying into the night. Glancing over her shoulder, she snuck a glance at her friends. Her eyes, without fail, went right to JJ. His arm was slung around her, his beautiful smile on his face, his adam’s apple bouncing as he retold an embarrassing story about John B who laughed loudly. She was sitting just far enough away that she couldn’t hear the words they were saying, but she could hear their barking laughter. 

  She watched them, she was beautiful. She was Heather. The new girl. Y/N had nothing against her other than the fact that she had JJ, even if it was going to be over with by the end of this month. JJ never stuck around relationships for too long, but it didn’t mean they hurt Y/N any less. How could Y/N compete with her? Her long black hair blowing in the wind as if she was out of a movie, her striking blue eyes, her perfectly freckled face that looked like an Instagram filter. Y/N would never be as pretty as Heather in her mind. 

  Y/N’s laid-back, hippie/surfer attitude was no match for Heather, nor were her looks. Heather was beautiful inside out. While the casing looked like she was scalped by the Greek Goddesses, her personality was like she was filled with sunshine and rainbows. No matter when you saw her, she always had a kind smile. She was perfect: smart, kind, popular, pretty. It was as if is was impossible to hate her. She was too kind to. 

  Standing from her piece of driftwood, Y/N decided that she wasn’t in the mood to be at a party. Grabbing her shoes from the sand by her feet, she made her way along the water, not wanting to walk past her friends and have to answer questions. She didn’t want to spare a glance in Heather’s direction, not wanting to see JJ’s sweater on her. The same sweater he gave her last December. 

  Shivers ran up her spine as they all laid in the hammocks at The Chateau. While it was winter, they still decided to go out and stargaze after smoking the blunt JJ had just rolled. In their stoned haste to stare at the stars, Y/N had forgotten to bring a sweater or even a blanket, leaving her shivering in the hammock she shared with JJ since he broke his a few days ago. 

  JJ, having noticed her shivering since she was shaking the hammock - making its swing choppy, sat up. “Here,” He sat up, making her look up at him curiously. While they were slightly buzzed, they were still able to think since they were used to the stuff JJ gets. “Take my sweater, you’re freezing.” He told her, forcing her to sit up and put his sweater on. The dark fabric (while thin) warmed her perfectly but she wasn’t sure if it was because it came off of JJ’s body or if she was just that cold.

  “No, JJ, I can’t, you’ll get cold!” She protested, moving to take it off and give it back, but JJ stopped her, zipping it up to make it harder for her to get off. 

  “You’ve got to now, it looks much better on you and it’ll just be embarrassing if I wore it after you did,” He winked, settling back down, his hands clasped behind his head, his elbows sticking out, blocking where her head was supposed to go. “Plus, since I don’t have a sweater, it just means I need you to cuddle me to keep me warm now.” He smirked, his eyes staying on the stars. With a blush heating her face, Y/N laid back, her head resting on his chest, her arm resting over his stomach.

  It was just polyester, but it made her think that there was just a slightest bit of hope that maybe he liked her back. She liked to replay that day over in her head, her mind creating a figment of her imagination - a fictional ending where they ended up together, but since Heather showed up, she stomped all over it with her angel feet, but in the nicest way possible. 

  Sand kicked up on the backs of her heels, sliding off easily as she walked along the beach. She wondered if anyone noticed that she left, if JJ noticed she left. She doubted it, they were all mesmerized by Heather and her amazing personality while Y/N was off drowning in her own vast ocean of sadness. Looking behind her, she could faintly make the group out, spotting the crackling fire spitting sparks into the sky as started to bleed with fading pinks and oranges. They looked like specks, but she could tell that they were still laughing as if she hadn’t left. Sighing, she made her way up the dune, walking through the cluster of trees and onto the sidewalk, walking against the sea of people making their way towards the party. 

 ____

  She was working the next time she saw them. She was trapped and forced to sit there watching them. Of course, she was inside the restaurant while the couple stood outside on the deck, waiting for Pope and John B. Kiara was inside, finishing her shift up. Y/N’s eye caught on them as she grabbed her table their drinks. They were standing there, deep in conversation, their hands clasped together. She couldn’t take her eyes off them as their lips met in a long kiss. Her mind wondered. Why would he ever want to kiss her after having such a perfect girl in his arms? 

  Y/N wanted to hate her, she really did, but she couldn’t. “Y/N, you’re spilling the water everywhere,” Her co-worker exclaimed, jumping towards her with a dry dishtowel, sopping up the mess. She jolted in shock, his voice snapping her out of her daze. “Your clothes are soaked.” He fussed, trying to help dry her hand. Her eyes glanced back up from the mess at the deck entrance dinging, alerting them of someone entering. The group walked in, JJ and Heather in the back of John B and Pope. 

  “Hi, Y/N! Where is your section?” John B called out, wanting to be served by his friend as an excuse to see her since he hadn’t talked to her in a while. 

  “Sorry, John B, I’ll have to take your table so she can get cleaned up, next time.” Her co-worker told them, getting another dry towel to try and help her dry her clothes so she wasn’t dripping everywhere. John B pressed his lips together into a line, nodding with disappointment. 

  “Thanks, Jack,” John B nodded his chin in Jack’s direction. “Maybe we’ll talk before we leave, Y/N.” She looked back up from her shirt, nodding. Her eyes caught on JJ, their eyes connecting as Heather talked to Kie (who had just came out of the back), not noticing. It certainly was a sight for sore eyes, JJ’s eyes were, but it was gone as fast as it came. 

  “That should be good, Y/N,” Jack brought her back, making their eyes connect. His eyes were just a gorgeous as JJ’s, but they didn’t take her breath away like JJ’s did. He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling with happiness. His smile was show-stopping, but it didn’t effect her like JJ’s did. “You should go get changed, I’ll take these to the table for you, table four, right?” 

  “Yeah, thanks Jack, I owe you one.” She called to him, disappearing into the back, thankful that she always brought a change of clothes and thankful that she didn’t have to serve them. Though, she knew that she shift was going to be mostly trying not to even look towards their table, she was happy she didn’t have to go through standing at their table, working even harder at her fake smile so she didn’t show them that she was dying inside while she felt like she wanted to rip her feet off because they were so sore. 

 ____

  It was at school, she had seen the whole thing. Lost in the crowd, she stood there watching as Heather weeped. She could tell that JJ was embarrassed, he had tried to do it quickly and in private, but Heather’s load sobs and gasps drew the first few people then they drew the rest of the crowd. Even with a mixture of tears and makeup rolling down her perfect skin, Heather was the figure of beauty. Now, Y/N was certain - she’d never stand a chance with JJ Maybank, even after he broke up with Heather, for Y/N wasn’t half as pretty as her. 

  Heather pushed through the crowd, trying to get away from JJ. She pushed between Y/N and Jack, who stood beside her, his books hanging by his hip, Y/N’s books in his other hand. “Poor Heather, poor JJ. He actually looks like he tried to break up nicely this time. He must have cared for her at least a little.” He commented, observing the blonde boy while the group dispersed, giving him a perfect view of the two. 

  “Who wouldn’t care for her, she’s an angel.” Y/N muttered, her eyes connecting with JJ’s. A sympathetic smile stretched onto her face, feeling sorry for him. Their eyes never separated, the two of them standing still, just absorbed in their eye contact. 

  “Come on, Y/N, let’s go. We can’t be late for our shift.” Jack told her, forcing her to break away from JJ’s eyes. She looked up at him, nodding before turning and walking the short distance to his pick-up, climbing in. Jack tossed their books in the bed, along with their bags, slipping onto the bench seat next to her. Turning to gaze out the window, she saw JJ staring at her, still standing in the same spot. Their eyes connected once again in a fleeting moment before Jack slowly pulled out of the spot, exiting the nearly empty parking lot. 

[sanktnikolais]

Here Without You

A/N: I’m back for a moment to drop this sort of angst piece of god and goddesses au sort of. In which they are a bit like Poseidon and Athena but not really, I just needed the rivalry bc I’m trash <3 (it doesn’t make sense I know) 

Big thanks to @wafflesandkruge for giving me the idea. And for also going through and editing this long mess of words KJHASLFDJ ;-; 

Basically light/vague plot, only monologues and longing.

Summary: Cursed to live on earth as humans, Zoya has been finding Nikolai in every life he gets reincarnated. But every time they meet, it is always the same: he doesn't know her. He has no memory of her or anything about their past immortal life. And in every lifetime, she is slowly losing hope. For how long could she hold onto the thought of him remembering her again? Is her love enough?

Word count: 9629

How long does it take to fall out of love with someone who can't remember you? 

          If there was anything that Zoya learned after being stuck in a human body for so long was that nothing was ever permanent. All of it, whether it was a physical thing or an intangible emotion, disappeared in time. Such a harsh truth, she knew, but it was the truth. 

          For a long time, she had waited for it to disappear, or just fade if only for a bit. 

          But for over a millennium, her love for him remained. 

          Maybe that was what had driven her to stay away instead of finding him this time.  Because no matter how many times they met, or how many times their paths crossed, or how many lifetimes passed, the result would always be the same. 

          He would never remember her again. 

          It was only reasonable for her to stop hoping for the impossible to happen. 

---

Athens had been slightly cold that time of the year, even with the sun high up, which was a change since she last visited. 

          Zoya looked around. There were quite a number of tourists visiting today, bustling around the site and taking photos of the scenery. She almost chuckled at the silliness of it. If today had been some other time before, the sight would've been better when the temple was still intact. But looking up at it now, in its ruined state, only brought haunting memories of their last stand against their common enemy before everything fell apart around them. 

          Minnie? His voice echoed in her mind, along with the image of the worry and terror in his eyes as he knelt on the floor, trying to reach for her. What's wrong? 

          She shook her head, harshly shoving the memory away. But the sight of him vanishing after was already branded into her mind as if to remind her of her failure. 

          The coldness of the small piece of metal in her hand was enough to bring her back, and Zoya pressed it harder against her palm until it hurt. Better this pain than the one in the past.

          With a shaky breath, she made her way through the rubble of what once had been a divine place made by the people for the god of the seas. She remembered how much he appreciated the place, how much he took care of it during the old days they were still all in peace. 

          He grinned, the one that reached his eyes and made them bright. His arms were spread wide. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he said, gesturing to his newly built temple. 

          She merely raised an eyebrow at him. “Mine is definitely better,” she countered with a sneer. “And besides, yours wouldn’t even be there if I hadn’t allowed it.” 

          “Guess I owe you my reputation, then?”

          “Obviously, so stop being a show off.”

          Then he winked, and she didn’t like the way it made her heart skip a beat. “Only for you, dear.”

          The memory faded. 

          It was then she realized that he never got to see what she had done to his temple. If he saw it now, what would he feel? 

          Nothing, her cruel mind said. He doesn't remember anymore. 

          "Am I really waiting for nothing?" she said bitterly, not minding the weird stares she got from a nearby group. 

          Zoya reached the entrance of the front hall. It faced the seas, a view which he had never grown tired of. And seeing it from here, she figured that she could never really blame him. 

          The cliff from where the temple was built gave a wide view of the sea, stretching as far as it could until the other end that could be seen was only the horizon. Its glow of a mix of green and blue blended well with the afternoon sky, and it gave her a sense of serenity. Even if for a bit. 

          The seas can help us find peace, dear, his voice echoed in her mind again, unwanted and welcome at the same time. I'm sure you would appreciate it more in time. 

          Don’t call me dear, she had said, but it didn’t have the poison and sharpness from when they were still rivals.

          Zoya felt a sad smile twitch on her lips. She did appreciate it, loved it even. An eternity with him before surely contributed to the love she had for the seas now. 

          But an eternity without him only made looking at them feel bittersweet. It was as if she could see him nearby, but could never reach for him nor be with him. 

          It was never fair.

          She shook the melancholic thoughts away. She hadn't come here to lament over the things that could never be again. 

          Zoya opened her palm to eye the small object. It was a trident keychain she had bought from one of the souvenir stores near the site's entrance, its gold color immediately catching her eye as she had passed by. 

          It had become a tradition for her to leave various things by his temple whenever she visited. Whether it was of the strangest things like a water lily from a nearby pond or something like this, she always left things that reminded her of him.

          It was only fair to remember him even if he didn't remember her. 

          "An offering to the most infuriating deity I knew," Zoya whispered, her voice breaking slightly despite the softness of her tone. Her eyes suddenly burned. She blinked rapidly, feeling a tear fall on her cheek. She reached up to wipe it away. Why now? She laughed bitterly. "I am still crying over you even after a millennium while you live and pass by without any memory of me."

          She looked down to her right, where a boulder was perched on a pillar by the entrance, gently placing the trident on the surface. If only it was as easy to leave your feelings behind just as she left things in his temple.

          "Sad and fascinating, isn't it?" 

          Zoya jolted in surprise, her hand knocking over the small trident before she could let it go completely. That voice—

          But it couldn't be. It shouldn't be. 

          The voice continued on. "To have such a vast structure built only for it to be destroyed later," it said, "it really is tragic." 

          It was coming from behind her. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart was beating erratically in her chest. 

          It could be anyone else, her mind berated. Stop doing this to yourself. 

          But hearing his voice lifetime after lifetime, she would know it from anywhere. 

          It was him. 

          Zoya released a shuddering breath, finally turning around to face him. She had seen him be reincarnated far too many times for the past  two thousand years, had steeled herself from trying to run to him every time they met again. She had become better at making herself not care as the years passed. 

          What she could never get used to was the excruciating pain in her chest whenever she saw the person she had been longing to remember her appear in her path once more. 

          He still looked the same in every life, with his blond hair and hazel eyes, and that all-too-bright grin that she adored for thousands of years]. If she were to take a glance at him, it was as if nothing had changed. 

          But the lack of recognition and warmth in his eyes told a different story. 

          Were the Fates just that cruel to make their paths cross again and yet never last? 

          Her eyes stung again. 

          "I'm—" A look of worry bloomed on his face, and he held his hands up in apology. He winced. "I'm so sorry, I thought you could use some small talk. You look a bit sad earlier."

          Zoya wanted to laugh. He still talked too much in every timeline he got reborn in. "It's—it's fine." She waved a dismissive hand, wiping at her eyes for a moment. "Just had something in my eyes."

          If he wanted to say he wasn't convinced, he didn't bother to. He grinned and looked back up to the temple instead. "I'm really curious about this, though," he said as he approached the pillar to her left. 

          She drew in a sharp breath, wanting to step away and put as much distance as possible between them. But she stood her ground. She wasn't going to shy away from only that reason. 

          He touched the surface of the pillar and then pounded a fist on it twice. "The material looks sturdy enough to withstand a lot of calamities. But the damage looks far more than just that," he said, his eyebrows furrowing. Then he turned to her, hazel eyes curious. She found herself staring right back at them. "What do you think happened here?" 

          She raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're curious about it, why didn't you get one of the tour guides for your questions?" 

          Almost immediately, he grimaced, scratching the spot behind his ear. "I left my wallet back in the hotel I was at," he said, voice lowering with every word. "I only have enough spare cash for a bus ride back." 

          Zoya looked at him incredulously, and he obviously shrunk back slightly, the embarrassment still evident on his face. Still the idiot he is. 

          He sighed. "Well, at least I'd still be able to go back in a bus. I mean imagine walking back to your hotel in this kind of weather," he said, gesturing at the sky. "The sun god isn't merciful today." 

          She stared at him for another moment, and then she did one thing she hadn't done for a while. 

          She laughed. A genuine, loud one that surprised him, and even herself. Another moment passed, and then he was softly laughing along with her as well. If there were some things that remained unchanged, it was his blabbering mouth and idiocy in every life. It felt as if he was really here with her. 

          "Trust me, the sun god is more merciful than you think," Zoya said. If only Tolya can hear you now. "Give him a bit more credit." 

          "If he calms the blaze down for even a bit, then maybe." He shook his head with a chuckle. Then he patted the pillar. "I hope the god of the seas doesn't mind hearing me badmouthing his fellow deity."

          Whatever happiness she felt was short-lived and instantly faded at that, her heart clenching. She forced a smile on her face. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind." 

          "You sound like you know a lot about the gods." 

          I know a lot more. "I know my mythology."

          He raised a brow, an amused grin playing on his lips. "So does the mythology expert have a name?" 

          Zoya froze, and her thoughts stopped altogether. She had gone through this for as long as she could remember, and yet she still found herself stuttering every time. 

          "Minerva," she said before she could even think of it. Her mind panicked. It was her godly name. They had chosen their current names when they first answered to the humans a long time ago, and when they were damned to the mortal world, it had been the names they’d lived by ever since. 

          All the times she had met him, she gave a different one, while he said the same over and over. She didn't know why she told him her real name all of a sudden. 

          "A lovely name," he said, extending a hand out. "Nikolai." 

          She only hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. His skin was warm against hers, and she felt their connection throughout eons in that one touch. His eyebrows knitted together the moment their hands clasped together, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. She didn't know if she had just imagined it. 

          "Nice to meet you," she said. The words already felt hollow after repeating it for over a millennium. 

          Nikolai grinned. "Likewise." He let go of her hand before gazing up to the temple again. "So, I'm guessing it was destroyed from within. An explosion, perhaps? A divine explosion, if I may add. It's only plausible to think of that reason if we were to consider the mythology." He shrugged, looking totally satisfied with himself. "Correct me if I'm wrong, though, o' wise one."

          She didn't answer for a while. The question he asked was bringing back far too many buried memories of the dark era. Genya's unwanted deception. Harshaw's downfall. Alina’s sacrifice. 

          Nikolai’s doom. 

          It came back rushing to Zoya, and it took all she could to not break down. She clenched her hands to fists, willing the memories away. It wasn't the time to let them take over. Not that there ever was a right time.

          "Minerva?" 

          She broke out of her thoughts, turning back to Nikolai warily. There was a worried crease in his eyebrows as he looked at her. 

          "Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his tone. 

          "Yes, of course. I'm just trying to remember something," she replied. 

          "Ah, is the wise one starting to forget her mythology?" 

          Zoya tried to ignore the way the nickname prick at her heart. It was hitting too close to home. "I tend to forget things too, you dolt. Be glad I'm willing to answer your questions instead of leaving you hanging with your curiosity." 

          To both her surprise and expectation, Nikolai only laughed. He had never minded her sharp tongue and rough edges. Not even once. "Then do scold me for my wrong assumptions," he said.

          She huffed, but looked back up to the monument. "No need to ask for the worst," she said. "But you're actually quite right about that. It was destroyed from within, and not by a natural calamity." 

          "I knew it," he said triumphantly, his grin lightning up his face. "Though I'm quite surprised the sea god was allowed to be given a shrine in Athens. If my memory is right, didn't the goddess of Wisdom win that war?" He frowned. "I'm sensing there’s more than what was said in the books." 

          More than you'll remember from all your past lives, my love. Zoya recovered with a scoff. "The modern books are shit. Anything printed in them barely holds the truth." She wrinkled her nose. "I've been in far too many old libraries to know." 

          Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Would you care to elaborate on the real history, then?" he said, eyes holding only genuine curiosity and no mocking. "I'm all ears." 

          "You're not going to let this go easily, aren't you?" 

          "Not after you intrigued me with your confidence about its truth." He paused, his expression suddenly turning somber as he looked around the ruins of the old temple. "It's strange but there's something about this place that draws me in, and I just want to know what it is."

          Zoya felt her chest clench as she looked at him sideways. This happened in every life; Nikolai would be reminded or be familiar with everything, but he never remembered. And she was always left to deal with the pain alone. 

          With a quiet sigh, she braced herself from the upcoming pain of trying to reminisce a memory of them together, even more so when it was the start of their eternity together. An eternity that was ended in a blink of an eye. 

          But she figured that she would still indulge him. Even if it was the last time. 

          "They were rivals," she started. "Archenemies if you want to call it that, always had each other by their throats. It started when the sea god tried to ransack the temple of the wisdom goddess with a great flood." 

          She'd never forget the rage she felt at that time when she caught him in act, and how that rage deepened when he reasoned out that it was the sky god who had forced him to do it. His reason turned out to be true, but since the sky god was untouchable, she retaliated by stealing and burying the sea god's trident way underground for at least a decade. 

          It had rained non-stop in Olympus that time, but the defeated look on his face as he lived without his prized weapon was worth it. 

          "The sea god is a huge idiot, you see, and the wisdom goddess dislikes that kind of person." Zoya wanted to laugh in the way she was narrating their history, but the thought of him not remembering any of it was disheartening. "But that's just the way he was."

          Nikolai chuckled. "Am I sensing bias?" he said, shaking his head. "Sounds like they had a pretty silly rivalry." 

          A smile twitched on her lips. "That's a nice way to put it," she replied. "One petty thing led to another, until they were both interested in becoming the patron of this city that the rivalry between them worsened. The sea god even went as far as challenging the wisdom goddess to a duel the night before they set to present themselves to the king of Athens, saying that she only got interested because he was interested.

          "It was actually half-true, and also because the wisdom goddess did not want to make things easier for him as he did with her for centuries." 

          "Please tell me they didn't go on with the duel," Nikolai said. 

          "Joke's on you. They did."

          "Damnit." Then he laughed. "Who came out the victor?"

          Zoya couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "The wisdom goddess, of course," she said. "She put him in his place that night and told him to forfeit his plans being the patron of the city." 

          "I'm sure he didn't come to present himself to the king the following day, then?" 

          "Another joke on you. You're underestimating the stubbornness of the sea god." She shook her head in disbelief, and it made Nikolai laugh a bit more. She raised an eyebrow to his way. He should really stop laughing at himself. "If there was something else constant in him other than his idiocy, it's his optimism and stubbornness. He still showed up the next day despite having lost the duel." 

          Nikolai chuckled. "Sounds a lot like me," he said. Zoya's breath hitched, but she ignored the tiny spark of hope starting to ignite again. Then with a shrug, he added, "Well, you know what they say. No guts, no glory."

          "The wisdom goddess literally almost gutted him but he still persevered, and she had to commend that, at least. She didn't bother wasting her time berating him when he showed up." She kicked away a rock near her foot. It toppled over the huge crack dividing the ground, a fissure she had created after seeing him crumble to nothing in front of her. She forced her eyes away. "Even now, I still don't know why she didn't." 

          "Out of respect, maybe?" he offered with a shrug, and Zoya considered it for a moment. Perhaps it was. "What happened after?" 

          "They were asked to offer a gift to the people that will prove useful for a long time. Of course, being as confident as he is, the sea god volunteered to go first. He struck the earth with his trident and a fountain of water came forth. But what he didn't know was that it could only produce saltwater. It was pretty much useless for the population. 

          "Then it was the wisdom goddess' turn. From there, she struck her spear on the ground and planted a branch that grew an olive tree. The king was more impressed with the wisdom goddess' gift, so he chose her to lay claim on this city." 

          Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so that's what happened." He nodded in understanding. Then he frowned and glanced up at the temple, pointing a finger up to it. "Wait, that still doesn't explain how the sea god got his own temple in the city where his very own rival was the patron? I'm quite sure the sea god didn't accept his loss that easily." 

          "That's where you're wrong." Zoya followed his look up. "He peacefully conceded," she said. And it was the very first time you regarded and smiled at me without a hint of malice. "So she obliged his supporters' wish to build him a shrine near the sea. Thus the temple in this location."

          The smile that appeared on his lips was almost affectionate and soft, and she found herself smiling a bit sadly. "I guess despite the rivalry, they could still be forgiving with each other," Nikolai said. Then he turned to her. "What happened to them after that?" 

          "They—" Fell in love and had an eternity in front of them, she wanted to say but decided against it. She had told him enough truth. "—made a truce and agreed not to come after each other again. No other wars between them after."

          "Just like that?" 

          We've had a lot more than just that. He didn’t need to know how he became much different to her after that, his treatment around her becoming much better despite her initial hostility to his changed attitude towards her, or how he made his way to her heart without her even realizing that she'd let her walls down for him. 

          Nothing would make a difference.

          "More or less, yeah," she replied after a moment. 

          Nikolai still didn't look convinced when he turned back to her. "Not even on friendly terms?" 

          Zoya only shrugged. "There were no further things said in the old stories," she said. She didn't know why she was lying to him when he didn't even remember anything. "So we're left to our own assumptions on what possibly happened in the following years."

          A look of disappointment bloomed on his face. "I refuse to believe nothing happened else after that," he said firmly. "It's too….open. There must be something more."

          "It's quite disappointing, but it is reality. Sometimes that's just the way it is." 

          "Fair. I believe there's something more, but I guess I'll have to leave it open as well." He sighed, and then smiled ruefully. "The worst part of every story is having no ending."

          Zoya only smiled sadly as she turned away from the temple and faced the sea. Beside her, she felt Nikolai shift and do the same. The quiet stretched on, and nothing but the occasional sound of wind and the other tourists' voices could be heard. 

          It was at times like these that she appreciated the calmness that the view of the sea brought to her, and she was left to remember that what he told her about the seas was true. 

          Another wave of pain and longing washed over her, the stinging in her eyes returning. He was so, so close and yet she could never reach out to him and hold him close again. But she would be  content with having him near even without any memory of her rather than losing him forever. 

          "How about you?" His voice came after a long while, soft and soothing as the afternoon breeze. "Do you believe that there was nothing more for them than just their rivalry?" 

          Zoya didn't answer right away. It would be so easy to tell him the truth, to say that the two most opposite deities had overcome their differences and fallen in love against all odds. 

          But her exhausted heart was too afraid to open up with the truth when she knew that nothing would change if she told him. 

          "To be honest," she said, mustering up all her courage to keep her tone flat, "I don't know. Maybe there really wasn't."

          Nikolai nodded in understanding. "I suppose that's possible too," he said. "Guess we're of opposite minds, yeah?" 

          "We've always been," she whispered, and she was almost thankful for the shrill sound of his ringtone to cover up for her voice. 

          He immediately answered it, his becoming relieved. There were a few exchanges of words before he was ending the call. "My rental car is finally starting up again so I'll be able to head back to the hotel. I'm afraid I'll have to cut off our tour short," he said with obvious dismay. "Thank you very much for the knowledge and wisdom you have bestowed me today."

          Zoya was already starting to bid him goodbye, but her mind had begun pondering over his words and the ones from earlier. "I thought you said you were taking a bus back?" 

          "Oh. I, uh," Nikolai stuttered, scratching the spot behind his ear with a nervous chuckle. "I kind of made that up." Then he quickly added, "I'm so sorry about that but you looked like you needed a small talk or something, and it was the first excuse that came to my mind." He tried to smile, but it was pained enough to pass it off as a grimace instead. "Though it’s probably a good thing I hadn't hired a tour guide as I learned a lot more from you, I apologize for making an excuse up." 

          "You don't have to explain yourself, I did actually quite enjoy sharing too," she said, offering him a lopsided smile in return. "And also, thank you for being kind." 

          He grinned at that, his face lighting up. "Likewise." He tipped his head in a polite bow before extending a hand. "It is nice meeting you, Minerva." 

          Zoya tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest in the way he said her name. She put on a small smile. "Likewise, Nikolai." 

          He gave another smile before letting go of her hand and turning to leave. Only to stop after a few steps and face her again. Then he was pulling something out of his pocket. 

          "Well, a token of appreciation for your expertise on mythology," he said, handing her a small keychain. "And also for enduring my curious and talkative self."

          She opened her hand, and he placed the object to her palm. Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized it. 

          It was the miniature version of her shield. 

          "The wisdom goddess' shield," Nikolai said as he pulled his hand back. He offered her a soft smile. "It's only fitting for you to have it because you share the same level of wisdom as her." Then he gave another polite bow. "Farewell, o' wise one. Though I do hope to see you again some time."

          With a final grin, he finally turned and left. 

          Zoya stared at his retreating form until he disappeared among the crowd of tourists, feeling a lot heavier on her shoulders now that he had left. The keychain was still warm in her hand as she walked towards the cliff's edge, and away from the people that might possibly see her. 

          The weight of it all came crashing down at her. It felt surreal, a fever dream she couldn't get out of, and she was left reeling from the effect of what had just occurred. 

          Why today? Why here? 

          It was one thing to see him again. But in this place out of all the ones he could have met her? It was cruelty, a mocking from the Fates to show her that she was never free of her torment even when she already remembered, and he hadn't.

          She will never be free of it. 

          The burning in her eyes felt too much again. But this time, Zoya didn't do anything to stop the tears from falling.

---

What she hadn't expected was seeing him again later that night. 

          It wasn't new for her to stay late at the site, even after its closing time. If you were old friends with the manager of the place, you got quite a bit of special treatment. 

          You can stay for as long as you need to. The text message from Genya had been displayed on her screen for quite a while now. Just don't make yourself too sad. 

          Zoya huffed lightly. If that were easy to do, she would have done it a thousand years ago. But a lot of things were easier said than done. 

          The alcove she had been staying at was just several feet below the cliff's edge, particularly made for lounging a long time ago. But after years of neglect, what was once a finely made spot was now nothing more than a small opening carved from a trident's strike. The boulder that used to be big enough to hold two people had now crumbled to smaller rocks, and she was left to sit on the cold ground instead. 

          Nikolai had built the spot when they wanted to have a quiet time together without the prying eyes of mortals or any of their fellow deities nearby. She remembered nights when he would point out the constellations for her, and despite having all the knowledge about it, she let him talk and make up stories for each of them. Other times it would be still, neither of them talking and hands just clasped together, watching the waves on the seas surge and move to his bidding. 

          The memories hit her painfully. She longed to have those nights with him again, or even to just be with him, without having to worry about him slipping away from her. 

          But that seemed impossible now. 

          Her watch suddenly beeped, signaling that it was already one in the morning. But somehow, the sound was muffled amidst the memories in her head. She needed the calm, the quiet. A place where she could be in peace. And she knew just where that was. 

          Zoya stood up and dusted her pants off before making her way back up the cliff again. Slipping off her cardigan and shoes, she left them along with her phone and wallet by the row of rocks that served as the barrier for the edge. She made her way to the lower part of the ravine afterwards, where the drop was directly to the water on this vantage point. 

          If Genya were here, she would surely reprimand her from doing such a dangerous thing in the middle of the night. But Zoya usually did night dives during the times she visited here, as the seas brought the serenity she used to feel around him, and she was just desperate to have it again. And it wasn’t as if she could die.

          She closed her eyes and turned to the night sky, breathing in deeply as the wind picked up around her. Then, with a contented sigh, she broke into a run and jumped off the ledge. 

          The rush of air felt familiar in her ears as she plummeted to the sea, and a moment later, she was submerged under the surface. Underwater, it was quiet, the tranquility making it easier for the memories to come rushing to her mind. The coldness should have bitten at her skin the moment she sunk, but she didn’t feel anything. She closed her eyes. 

          Her mind chose to bring her back to one night on the beach, when he stopped the tides and held her close as they danced slowly under the stars. It was the very first time he had bared his real self to her, and the first time she had seen him past the confidence and the cruel persona he wore as one of the highest among the gods. 

She hadn't known how to react that time, and she found herself at loss for words. It was the moment she doubted herself. She was the goddess of wisdom who liked definitive odds and probabilities. She approached everything with caution and vigilance. And above all else, she was supposed to treat him as a rival. An enemy. An opponent of the other side. 

          But Zoya must have miscalculated, because she ended up going against everything she’d ever believed when she fell in love with him. 

          Her eyes stung, and her chest clenched. It wasn't from the lack of air. 

          Please, I'd do anything, she pleaded desperately to any other divine being that could hear her. Make him remember. Make him remember me.

          Something grabbed at her wrist, and her eyes shot open. A figure was trying to haul her up to the surface. She struggled for a moment, but whoever was pulling her had a strength of the currents and waves of the seas during a storm. 

          After a moment, they finally resurfaced. Zoya was gasping for air as they broke out of the water, immediately getting hold of the person's collar and turning them violently to her. 

          Whatever harsh things she was about to say were forgotten when the dim lights from above the cliff caught the face of the figure. 

          "Minerva, are you alright?" Nikolai asked, concern evident in his voice. What the hell was he doing here? His eyes searched her face. "Why did—no, never mind that. Let's get you out of the water first."

          She was still too shocked to move or answer, so she let him drag her to the sands on the far left side of the cliff. He did most of the swimming, as her body still refused to cooperate with her. It must have been a struggle for him, but he didn't show it. His movements were precise and powerful as if he had been doing it all his life. Though considering his real identity as the god of the seas, this was nothing to him. 

          They hit the sands after a short while, and it was then a bit of Zoya’s strength returned. She immediately pushed Nikolai away. 

          "Let go of me," she hissed, voice hoarse from being under the water for too long. 

          He stumbled, clearly not expecting the act, and he looked at her with obvious hurt in his eyes. 

          If it was some other time, she would have felt bad and tried to apologize. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be hurt. But she was exhausted and miserable and she didn't want to deal with anything at all. She let her emotions take over. 

          "How did you find me?" She gritted her teeth as she wobbled on her feet. "You aren't supposed to be here." 

          A look of disbelief appeared on his face. "A thank you would be nice," he said. "I just saved your life." 

          "Who said I needed saving?" she snapped. "Didn't you consider for a second that maybe I knew what I was doing?" She started towards the path leading back up to the temple, calling out to her shoulder, "You should mind your business." 

          "So you preferred to drown down there alone?" 

          I can't die, Zoya wanted to say, and she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying it. She chose to ignore him instead and continue up the upward path. The cold was starting to seep to her skin, making her shiver slightly. 

          She could hear his rushed footsteps behind her as he followed. "Minerva," he called out. "Look, I'm sorry." 

          Zoya ignored him. They were almost at the top of the cliff again. 

          "I didn't mean to upset you—please, Minnie."

          She abruptly stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. Her thoughts stopped all together. Could it be? 

          Slowly, she turned to face him, her heart in her throat. "What did you just call me?"

          Nikolai seemed to realize what he had said, and he looked mortified. "I—I'm sorry, it just came to my mind." 

          Zoya wanted to laugh bitterly at herself. Of course, he still didn't remember. It was always only reminders of their former lives that came to him just to keep her hopes up. But it was all the same after. 

          "Leave before I report you for trespassing," she said curtly and continued up the path. Just stay away, she pleaded in her mind desperately, even though her heart wished for the opposite. But she couldn't take any more pain right now. Please. 

          Thankfully, she didn't hear him behind her after that, and she made her way back to where she left her things. But when she finally got there, the exhaustion caught up with her and she stumbled to the row of rocks. Her body was already shivering when she sat down, and she put a hand to her face. 

          Realization dawned at Zoya all of a sudden. Her harsh treatment of him wasn't necessary, and there was no one else to blame but herself for letting her emotions take over. And even if she wanted to apologize, she had already scared him off. 

          Something warm was draped around her shoulders, and the smell of the sea wafted to her nose. A choked sob made its way out of her mouth. Why hadn't he left yet? She had regarded him badly when his intention was solely to save her from drowning. She didn't deserve his kindness. 

          "I told you to leave," she said, moving her hand away from her face. But she didn't turn to him. "I warned you that I would report you, didn't I?"

          Nikolai laughed lightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him settle over one of the rocks in the row near her, though he still kept a considerable distance between them. 

          "If you wanted to report me," he said, "then you would have gone straight to security the moment you arrived up here." 

          Zoya huffed, but didn't say anything more. She hated that he was right about her. He could always see right through her, and it was the one thing that didn't change in him. 

          His voice came after a moment. "Did you really intend to stay underwater for that long?" 

          She didn’t answer right away, because she didn't know how. She hadn't even realized that she had been underwater for too long. "How did you get here, anyway? And why are you here?" she asked instead, effectively deflecting the subject. 

          Nikolai winced. It was obvious that he didn't have a clear answer to her question either. "I have my ways. And I can assure you my reason isn't for cruel purposes." 

          "Guess I won't report you, then," she said, and Nikolai smiled at that. 

          "I owe you my life, o' wise one," he said. 

          I couldn't even save you on time, Zoya thought bitterly. 

          A long silence came after, with the both of them facing the well-lit temple that glowed against the night sky. The wind picked up, and she shrugged the jacket tighter around her. She looked at Nikolai sideways, remembering that he had also been soaked to the bone when he jumped in after her. But there weren't any traces of him being cold, so she turned her attention back to the temple. 

          "I couldn't sleep," he said after a while. He took a small piece of gravel from the ground and tossed it over the cliff's edge. "It might be strange to hear this reason, but the story you told me this afternoon kept me up, and it drew me back here. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight. It wasn't as if coming back here would answer the questions in my head." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I was never a fan of open-ended stories."

          "They fell in love," Zoya said simply, averting her gaze from him and looking back up at the temple. She could practically feel his shocked expression directed her way. She figured that she owed him the whole truth at least, after treating him badly just earlier. 

          And for the last time she would be able to talk to him. 

          "I'm sorry, what?" 

          "You heard me." 

          Nikolai scoffed. "If this is some lie just to sate my thoughts, then I would prefer the cruel truth to hit me squarely in the face."

          "I'm not lying. I know it seems quite impossible if you look back at their history," she said. "But the ones that happened after were more important. The oldest scriptures said so. They fell in love and had an eternity ahead of them." And we had. We just didn't know it would end in the cruelest way, and you would be taken away from me. "It wasn't well-known to the public as the modern books stated that they stayed rivals throughout the rest of their immortal lives." 

          "How could two gods who literally fought over this city fall in love?" 

          "I don't know." And it was the truth. He really was her biggest uncertainty and miscalculation. But it was the one thing she didn't regret happening. A rueful smile appeared on her lips. "And yet they did. Against all odds." 

          Nikolai laughed lightly. "I can't believe it," he said, his tone bordering breathless and disbelieving. "Do you think they're still in love?" 

          The question felt like knives being stabbed into her heart. I've loved you for an eternity, she thought as she looked at him, to the face that never left her mind for a millennium. Does your love for me still exist, even if it lays forgotten in the deepest depths of your heart?

          Her eyes burned, and she looked away. "I hope," she said truthfully. "It would have been extraordinary." 

          "I would have to believe they still do," he said. "I mean, it's kind of amazing, isn't it? To love the same person for thousands of years." 

          Zoya felt another crack on her mask. "It is," she whispered. "A lot have tried gaining her attention, but no one can ever compare to him. She doesn't see anyone else." 

          Nikolai sighed contentedly. "They're lucky," he said. "To have a love like that, I mean. Those kinds are rare."

          "Have you ever been in love?" she suddenly asked. She hadn't meant to pry, but she wanted to know if he found someone else during his time. She blinked, realizing how intrusive the question was. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to." 

          "Ah, is the wise one a curious cat now?" He laughed when she gave him a glare. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm joking." He turned back to the temple with a faraway look in his eyes. "But to answer your question, I don't think I have. At least not in the way the sea god and the wisdom goddess were."

          Zoya didn't know whether to feel relieved or sad at that. So she only nodded in understanding. 

          "I like to think that maybe I did, even just once. There had been a few people in the past." Nikolai smiled sadly. "But there's always something missing, you know? I could never tell what or why I am feeling that way. There's just this…hollowness I can't explain." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. "Somehow coming to this place relieved me of some of the emptiness. I guess I should come back here more often." 

          A tear fell from her eye, and she quickly wiped it away before he could see it. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest, that tiny spark of hope that she thought was dimming had ignited once more. 

          This was exactly why she didn't want to meet him again. They would cross paths, and he would be reminded of something in their past life that made her heart believe that things could be what they once were. But they couldn’t. They never would. 

          Destined to meet, but never to last. 

          So she didn't let herself ponder over it. This had already happened so many times, and yet she always got hurt for expecting too much in the end.

          "How about you?" he asked, voice gentle. "Have you ever been in love?" 

          I have. And I still am. "Once." 

          A beat. "How was it?" 

          A curse and a blessing at the same time. She blinked her tears away and replied, "I still think about him everyday." 

          Nikolai hummed. "Lucky guy." 

          "He really is."

          "Can I ask what happened to him?" 

          Zoya let out a shaky breath. "He forgot about me." 

          "I would remember you," he said. 

          Then why didn't you? She covered up with a bitter laugh instead. "Easier said than done." 

          He didn't say anything else after that, and another wave of silence filled the air around them. Zoya appreciated the quiet, reminding her of the moments of peace in the past, and she felt a sad smile on her lips along the ache in her heart.

          She would remember this, even if it's painful for her. She didn’t know when she’d see him again. 

          If she would see him again. 

          Suddenly, a beam of light flashed to her face, and she raised a hand up to cover her eyes. "Miss Nazyalensky?" a voice asked. She immediately recognized it as Isaak's, Genya's head of security. "Are you alright?" 

          "Yes, it's me. I'm alright," she said, and the light disappeared. 

          The young guard's eyes shifted from her to someone past her shoulder. If he noticed their still-drenched state of dress, he didn't say anything. His eyes narrowed. "Who—" 

          "Don't worry, he's a friend," she said, glancing at him sideways. "He's just about to leave." 

          A look of disappointment flashed on his face, and Zoya silently apologized to him in her mind. It was the only way to make him go. Isaak was looking at him expectantly. 

          "Yes," Nikolai said, "I was just leaving." 

          She turned back to Isaak. "Be a dear and show him the way out, it's already dark."

          Isaak only nodded before turning to Nikolai. "This way, sir." 

          Nikolai sighed and stood up without further complaints, walking towards the young guard. But not before he looked back at her for the last time. He smiled softly. "It was actually good seeing you again," he said, and Zoya felt her heart break a little more with those words that held much more meaning to her. "Good night." 

          With that, he turned away to follow Isaak back to the entrance. Her feet were already moving before she even realized it. 

          "Wait," she said, and Nikolai stopped in his tracks. She made her way towards the temple's entrance, going over to the boulder by the pillar where she’d left the small keychain earlier. She found it on the floor, almost covered with rubble. But thankfully it was still there. She picked it up and turned back to him. 

          His eyes were expectant and curious when Zoya stopped in front of him, and she let her gaze linger to memorize his features to carry with her, as if she hadn't had all of him engraved in her heart and mind for thousands of years. 

          "Here." She handed the trident keychain to him. He took it reluctantly, a deep crease in his eyebrows evident as he stared at the object in his hand. "I left it this afternoon as an offering to him. But you might as well have it."

          Nikolai blinked, a grin appearing on his lips that brightened his face. "I hope the god of the seas doesn't mind."

          "Don't worry, I'm sure he won't." It's technically yours, anyway. "And it’ll be something to remember me by."

          "Even if you don't give me anything, you're not that easy to forget, Minerva," he said, and then he tipped his head forward in a polite bow. "Thank you."

          The look in his eyes was warm, and Zoya felt as if she was really looking at him. She desperately wanted to reach out to him and hold him close to her again. But she held back. "You're welcome," she said, stepping back before she did something she would regret later. She would not make this harder for herself. 

          With a final grin, Nikolai finally turned and followed Isaak. 

          And as she let him walk away from her for the umpteenth time in her life, she was left only with longing and the same pain she had been carrying for as long as she can remember. 

          I love you, she thought, hoping the winds would be kind enough to carry the words she had been wanting to tell him. This would be the last time. 

***

The memory of that night came back to her as Zoya stood by the entrance of his temple again more than a year later. She didn’t expect herself to be back here; she had vowed that she would stop hoping for the impossible. But it was never that easy to let go of something you’d been holding onto for a long time. 

          She had spent the better part of the year trying to convince herself that she could do it, that she could let him go. Sometimes she thought she did, as her thoughts about him didn't bring that much pain to her than before. But more times than not, she would still find herself crying at night, wanting nothing else than to have him with her again, asking any other deities to hear her plea and end their torment. 

          And yet it remained unanswered just like it had always been. 

          A strong breeze blew past the site, and Zoya shrugged the jacket tighter around her. It was almost the same as last year, albeit a bit colder, causing the temple to have less visitors than usual. The sun was starting to set in the west when she approached the cliff's edge, giving the sea an orange glow. 

          She smiled ruefully, suddenly realizing the depth of her decision. This view was going to be one of the sights she would have to give up if she ever stopped visiting here. And it was something she wasn't letting go. As much as she wanted to forget, his seas had been a constant part of her immortal life, providing her with peace that often slipped away from her, and it was the closest thing to him that she could be with. 

          The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, and Zoya wanted to laugh. She had been a fool to think that she could ever forget any of this, that she could forget him. 

          Because even after all her attempts to do so, he would always be the one on the other end of the red string tied around her wrist. 

          "It's not fair, you know? I'm still crying over you, and I'm so, so tired," she said to the sea, her voice quivering as she did. The stinging in her eyes came quickly this time, and she reached a hand up to wipe it away. A broken sob came out from her lips when she whispered, "It's not fair, Nikolai."

          She put a hand to her face as she continued to cry. There were times that her grief would overwhelm her to the point that she wouldn't have minded whether she was in public or not, and the pain in her chest was enough to break her. 

          This was one of those times and she had no control over it. 

          Zoya didn’t know how long she stayed there, crying her sorrows to the seas that could only do so much to comfort her, that she didn’t even notice the presence behind her until it spoke. 

          "When I first saw you here a year ago, you were just close to crying."

          Everything seemed to stop around her. Her thoughts halted and she brought her hand down from her face. 

          No, it's not real. 

          But she knew it was true. 

          Zoya turned to the direction of his voice, and there he was, basked in the glow of the sunset that made his eyes gleam much brighter than what she used to have engraved in her head. 

          Nikolai smiled softly. "It's been a while, Minerva." 

          She didn’t know why her mind suddenly started making up excuses, anything she could say to elude him before the pain became too much for her to bear. 

          "I'm sorry, do I know you?" It might have been the stupidest excuse she could think of, but it was all she had. A look of hurt flashed on his face. Walk away, Zoya. "You must have mistaken me for someone else." 

          She briskly walked past him, each step away from him feeling like daggers being driven to her chest. 

          Walk away, Zoya willed herself. 

          She could do it. She could walk away so she wouldn't have to suffer. She could do this, and do it again in the next life. 

          She could stay away from him. 

          But as she went further away from Nikolai, her mind narrowed to one thought. I can't do it. 

          It was then his voice came, gentle as the waves from the shore. "Are you really going to walk away this time, Zoya?"

          This made her stop abruptly on her tracks, her heart in her throat. A surge of wild hope ignited in her chest again. 

          No, he could've asked for it from the management, she thought. Isaak could have told him. 

          She had been waiting for a thousand years to hear it again, to hear the warmth in his voice whenever he said her name. But why wasn't she believing it? Why wasn't she turning to him? 

          Why only now? 

          Against her better judgment, Zoya finally faced him. Her vision blurred with another wave of unwanted tears. If this was some cruel trick to play on her—

          Nikolai must have noticed her look, because he gave her a reassuring smile. "The seas can help us find peace," he said as he approached her. Zoya could only look at him, her heart still not wanting to believe. But he continued, "And I would gladly stop the tides and currents if it meant giving you the serenity you desired."

          He stopped right in front of her, the gentle look in his eyes remaining the same. She looked back up at him, finding any traces of deceit in his hazel eyes, or anything that proved that he wasn't real. 

          But in them she only saw the warmth and love that he sent her way, the reflection of their memories worth for thousands of years, the one that the wisdom goddess didn't expect the sea god to give her. 

          "Hey," Nikolai said, his voice coming out in a broken whisper. His face crumpled when he brought a hand to her cheek. A quivering smile made its way to his lips as he said, "I'm sorry I'm late." 

          A sob tore from her throat as Zoya lunged at him, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly as if he would disappear again if she let go. 

          He's here. "You're back," she sobbed against his shoulder. "You're back."

          She felt his arms around her not a moment later, strong and warm and welcoming, the same way she remembered even after a long time.  The world could have burned down around them, and still Zoya wouldn't have cared, not when he was finally back to her. 

          "I remember," Nikolai was saying over and over, his voice shaking from crying. "I remember it all." He pulled away slightly, just enough to look in her eyes and see the relief reflected back in them. Tears fell freely from his eyes as he pressed his lips on her cheek— "So many lives, I've lived" —his lips went to the bridge of her nose— "So many times I've met you" —he moved to her eye— "And I didn't even know it was you that I was missing." 

          He pressed their foreheads together, his eyes closed tightly. He brought his hands up to the sides of her face. "You always found me," he whispered, "and when I remembered, I knew it was my time to find you." He reached for her hand, bringing it to his chest, and she felt the steady beat of his heart as if it had finally found peace and its home. "I love you. I loved you in every life. My mind could forget, but my heart and soul never did." 

          Zoya laughed, but it came as a broken sob instead. She reached her other hand up to his face, her touch still hesitant. Everything felt like a dream. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, she wanted to make sure it was real. 

          But he was warm and his presence comforting, and he was looking at her the same way he did when he stopped the tides for her that one night on the beach. 

          More tears fell from her eyes. "I never thought I'd see you again. I've watched you slip away for a thousand years, and yet my love for you remained the same, if not stronger," she said, voice hoarse. "I missed you every single day." 

          Nikolai leaned into her hand, pressing a kiss on her palm, and then on her wrist. A few tears landed on her skin. "I love you. I'm here now." His lips moved to her forehead. "I love you."

          She clutched him closer to her. "I thought I lost you," she said. She closed her eyes as he moved to press a lingering kiss to her temple. Her voice broke when she repeated, "I thought I lost you."

          "I know, I'm sorry," he murmured against her skin. "But I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere." He pulled away to look in her eyes. "I'm not leaving you again." 

          And when he sealed his promise with a kiss, Zoya felt the thousands years' worth of pain and longing lift from her chest, replaced by the feeling of warmth and contentment, and finally, home. It would be another start for the both of them, as they had a lot of time to make up for. The road would be tedious, but they had each other. 

          Her love could last for another eternity.

***

A/N: I have a short, fluffy one of the same au in the works. Might post it soon. JASHFLJASF

[straymackerel]

Is it still open bc if so here’s mine UwU 5. luftmensch thanks and congrats on 600 and there’ll be more to come im sure~^^

dazai + luftmensch || לופֿטמענטש (yiddish, n.) literally “air person”; someone whose head is in the clouds; an impractical, unrealistic dreamer.

➽─{ahhhh thank u liz!!! i’ve always associated this word with fun but i wanted to play with the direction teehee,,}─❥

warning(s): this is not a fairytale.

As much as you loved your boyfriend, you had ample reason to worry about your future together. Try as you might, you couldn’t overlook his innumerable faults, faults that grew more and more glaringly obvious with the lapse of time. In the grand scheme of things he was not only a heavy drinker, but also unmotivated, hobbyless, and jobless. In fact, today he was quite literally celebrating the one year anniversary of his unemployment─a cause of joy for him, but a cause of concern to you. 

You took to the sea together that afternoon, viewing it in all its glory from the safety of a cable-stayed bridge. He hummed a happy little tune having just picked up all his favorite foods from the grocery store. You buzzed at a similar wavelength, sharing in his musical delight. Together, the two of you stood in unspoken harmony, content with just watching the fishermen and ferries as they passed by. That is, up until that one nagging thought crept into your mind and out of your mouth.

“So how’s the job hunt going?” you asked, pretending to turn your focus towards the glistening of the coastal waters before you, perhaps entranced by its vastness or its blueness. To Dazai, however, your attempt at casual conversation held about as much subtlety as a sledgehammer.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me,” he said, eyes following your own to nowhere in particular. “You can think about it like this: the more time I spend out of work, the more time I can spend with you!” Your boyfriend wrapped one arm around you with marked swiftness, his other hand holding tight to a can of celebratory crab meat. You sighed into his trench coat, tugging on the tan fabric.

“It’s hard not to worry,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you nuzzled into him. “You know things can’t stay like this forever.” 

You stiffened at the sound of your own voice. As the words slipped from your mouth, you almost wanted to side with him; you would love Dazai’s attention all to yourself, maybe even at the cost of his livelihood. You wanted his every regard to concern you and only you as he sank into your body, warmth combining with yours. You wanted to be his one object of importance as he reached for his grocery bags, lifting plastic-encased bottles of sake to eye level. For the briefest of moments you felt like you could make a home out of his embrace alone, but the sounds of clinking glass snapped you back to reality.

“Hey! Don’t you dare.” Your hand moved instinctively, making a beeline for the liquor. “You said you’d wait until we returned ho─” 

Looking your boyfriend dead-on for the first time, you noticed a small child materialize from his other side; he’d lifted his liquids out of their way, and now you were poised as if to grab them. There was a small silence as the youngster took a frozen, bewildered look at you both, as if caught in the tangible strain betwixt lovers at odds. With their hasty departure came with an awkward rumble from Dazai’s chest.

“Bella. Why so tense?” Dazai’s short-lived chuckle surrounded you with both the reverberations of his torso and the shellfish on his breath. Yet as composed as he pretended to be, his efforts were rendered useless by the beating of his heart pressed up against you, its rapid rhythm telling you a story of an unfamiliar nervousness.

On the Skywalk footpath beneath the Yokohama Bay Bridge, leaning against the railing and towards the Pacific Ocean, you realized something. You realized it as Dazai droned on, trying to explain himself in a manner that might soothe you. You realized it as he attempted to reel you back in the same as he’d done many a time before, always the moment before you got too close to the truth. His words cut in and out as you pondered your shared apprehension. You could explain your own unease, but where was his coming from..?

“...and I have connections, darling,” Dazai said as your attention returned, rapid heartbeat betraying his calm tone. “I’ll have something lined up for myself, just you wait. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” He gave you a swift peck on the cheek, leaning back as quickly as he leaned in. And suddenly, it clicked. The warmth in your body drained at the revelation.

Because you realized that, as much as you wanted, needed his proximity, he didn’t care much for yours.

“Connections?” As far as you could tell, Dazai’s closest relationships involved you, your landlord, and the bartenders on the weeknight shift. You cringed at that word now. 'Close.' You didn’t dare pry any further as his arm snaked away from its half-hearted hold. What are you hiding from me? you asked silently, the words never quite leaving your lips. But he could sense it in your solemn stare and he backed away in turn, leaving you to bear the brunt of a gentle sea breeze turned brutal and biting.

Dazai wasn’t the foolish daydreamer he posed as, the halfwitted airhead he always pretended to be. He had secrets to keep about his past and secrets to keep about his future. Hot needles prickled your sides, the flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks as he averted his eyes from your gaze. For just how long have you held me at a distance? 

“I’ll explain it to you someday,” he offered lamely, as if to brush off your every inquiry, voiced and unvoiced. In an ideal world, he would be looking you straight in the eye. In an ideal world, ‘someday’ would be today. But Dazai hadn’t the mind to let you in─certainly not now, and perhaps never.

“Just not today,” he said, as if to answer the most private of your thoughts. He would always see right through you, but in regards to understanding him, you would only ever scratch the surface.

--

source(s):

link i: timeline fact check

link ii: yokohama bay bridge

--

If you’re in crisis, there are free and confidential options available to help you cope.

24/7 USA National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255.

Lifeline Web Chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

USA/Canada Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741. It is silent, it is private, you can use it anywhere discretely on your phone.

UK: Text 85258 || Ireland: Text 50808

List of international crisis lines:

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines

[florvinhara]

my detectives (part 1)

kjahfjhsj i can have a little infodumping... as a treat... anyway this was originally gonna be 1 post but then i got carried away so part 1 in the series of me ranting abt my detectives!

Kira Isabella Song

Romances N, F, or M

Age: 25 at the start of book 1, currently 26

Birthday: February 7

Star sign: Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, Scorpio rising

Height: 5’7”

Hair: Short, ash blonde, a little longer than chin length

Eyes: dark brown

Race/ethnicity: Korean-American

Other appearance details: Several beauty marks on face and body. a few subtle scars on face/legs from falling out of trees, etc. fingers are callused from band practice and left hand fingers are a little crooked from being broken.

Languages: English, Spanish, a few basic phrases in some other languages

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind (equal)

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Science & combat

Strengths: Trustworthy, strong, courageous, calm under pressure, compassionate, thorough, clever, good intuition, self-sufficient, sure of herself

Weaknesses: Petty, caustic, distrustful, secretive, lackadaisical, insubordinate, emotionally unintelligent, can be disdainful, uncommunicative, contrary

Personal:

overall body language is casual and unbothered, lowkey her posture is kind of yikes RIP but she has a very fluid way of moving

her voice is smooth and somewhat low in pitch, very even in tone

Loud and/or jumbled sounds sometimes overwhelm her; she usually has noise cancelling headphones with her just in case

Rebellious as a teenager; she started skipping school and getting into fights, did some graffiti and one time she stole a street sign that she may or may not still have

When she wasn’t breaking rules, etc. she was taking boxing lessons, chilling in the library, going on runs, or playing bass guitar in her band

Wanted to get out of Wayhaven as soon as possible after college but was arrested after she came back because she was selling fake IDs and stole a car; absolutely did not want to be law enforcement but Rebecca and the captain essentially made her

The deal was that she would work at the station for 5 years and if she did well/stayed out of trouble she could then quit- she's 3 years into it

deep down if she wasnt a detective she would want to be a paramedic

She shares a lot of mannerisms with Rebecca and they’re way more similar than she’d like to admit

Birds FREAK her out seriously; she’ll deny that she’s afraid of them but she’ll cross the street to get away from them, also hates crowded places and deep water

Scary resting face and has a habit of just... eerily staring at people who are bothering her until they get spooked, but she's not actually that angry or grouchy, she's really just Vibing u know? she's not gonna correct anyone's impression though or they might start like... Talking to her :/

Loves any book/movie/show with a secret society or spy element and stories about a Hero and their Journey, also loves angsty philosophy books; her favorite movies are cheesy but feel-good (The Mummy, Pacific Rim, anything with big CGI monsters)

Doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but would kill someone for strong coffee; if she’s really tired you can catch her drinking it cold straight from the pot with a straw

Emo/pop punk teen and she definitely cried when MCR broke up, she also listens to a lot of Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, etc

She’s been drawing since she was a kid- mainly works with charcoal and sometimes pastels. her sketchbooks are like her diaries and she’s never shown them to Anyone Ever

In her spare time, she still plays some guitar, draws, or reads; her library is extensive because she keeps every book she’s ever read or intends to read (it’s one of the few things she’ll drop real money on)

Very tactile person and fussy about textures, she prefers ultra soft blankets/pillows and her bed is basically a nest

Practical, efficient, frugal- she doesn’t necessarily find joy in cooking or anything but she can do it well enough, quick showers, uses cheap soap/shampoo, cuts her own hair

Her hands get super dry/chapped in the winter and it hurts very much :(

Never yells; when she gets angry she’s very cold & will Not hold back; every word is designed to hurt bc she’s purposefully poking at things she knows are sore spots

At the start of the books, she’s kind of... sleepwalking through life? like, she was in a not-great place mentally for most of her teens and didn’t really have a plan for the future but law enforcement was definitely not it? She isn’t feeling super passionate about what she’s doing and it kind of sucks to not have joy in purpose :( luckily that’s changing and is gonna be a significant part of her journey through the series!

Her apartment is cluttered but clean and she knows where everything is, if someone moved one of her things she would not be able to find it and it would bother her until she located it

She’s not stubborn exactly? Like she’ll concede an argument if it’s not super important to her and has no problem with losing or backing down in many cases; she’s pretty open minded in that respect, but if something is central to her values then she will Die before she backs down

On that note she’s overall a very logical person but when it comes down to it she'll follow her heart/first instinct

Does not care about rules or procedures At All, she'll follow them if it suits her end goal but otherwise... nope

Lowkey she… did not care about the reveal? it was a surprise but not her first priority in the moment- she kind of already thought UB was sketchy and didn’t trust them, so mainly she was pissed off that Rebecca had sent them to babysit her instead of actually help solve the murders

Speaking of Rebecca their relationship is kind of yikes. Kira isn’t exactly mad that Rebecca was gone so often, but she does think that she kind of forfeited her parenting rights and was annoyed that Rebecca was interfering with her life; first by getting her on the force and then by dropping UB on her. So now it’s Very Awkward between them because Kira doesn’t want to be like… mean but honestly what is there to say?? They’re trying but neither of them like to share personal information so it’s rough

On the subject of sharing, she just… genuinely doesn’t like to open up. Like, it doesn’t come naturally and in her mind it’s just… nobody else’s business what she’s feeling/what’s going on in her life

Genuinely does not realize that people care about her unless they openly tell her lmao... sad hours but at this point in the story she honestly doesnt think that any of UB cares abt her beyond their job besides the one she's dating :(

"Everyone should be allowed to feel things and rely on the support of the people around them, their emotions are Valid. not me though, this is my personal problem and as such its dumb so i have to get over it alone"

Her primary love language is acts of service, she wants the people she loves to have everything they might need; she’s Soft and really just wants snuggles but also she does not want to address it out loud

Her way of asking for affection is to just... stand/sit there and occasionally glance at the person... hovers like a sad ghost until she gets a hug... literally like 🥺👉👈 sjdhdkn Clown girl

She’s sarcastic and makes a lot of snarky comments, but generally she’s pretty honest unless she doesn’t want to talk about something (in which case she’ll brush it off and deflect or change subjects) which is why it annoys her so much when people are willfully dishonest or conniving

Pretty adaptable and capable of rolling with the punches but she generally dislikes surprises and being the center of attention

genuinely she's pretty chill! and a Huge enabler of chaos as well, like unless it's specifically bothering her she's gonna let it happen and mostly she thinks it's pretty funny to watch from the sidelines

in short she's basically like a feral cat who stares suspiciously at everyone from a distance until they successfully pspspsps their way into her heart and then she would die for them <3 but if she's mad she will make direct eye contact while shoving glasses off the counter

ahdgsksg ok last one i swear she Cannot Sit Properly, always has to be some flavor of lounging or leaning or sitting twisted into a pretzel

[somedew-fictions]

ok so for the apology thing, can i have 1 w/ sebastian and a s/o who’s apologizing to him bc they keep avoiding him after being friends for like a whole year and it’s bc they’re terrified of losing him bc surprise they’re in love and that’s Scary As Shit for them preferably ends in something nice but angst for the most of it, and just. gn s/o pls n thank u 🥺

This kind of took a life of its own, so I’m sorry for that, personally. I tried to make it short so the imagery isn’t fully developed but I found this a lot of fun to write and I may just revisit this one day to make it more coherent. Please enjoy :D

#1: "I'm Sorry."

Sebastian always smells like smoke. The farmer used to hate it, but now? Now the scent has meaning, symbolizing something that was greater than themselves that they desperately wanted to smolder.

He was sitting directly beside them, their thighs touching as the two of them gaze across the ocean's vastness, their legs hanging over the edge of the pier. The farmer could feel their blood rushing through their veins, hear their heart beating in their ears, see the silent shroud around them, taste the dryness of their mouths, and smell the smoke on Sebastian's clothes. Yet their nose didn't wrinkle up the way it always did when they focused on his scent, but instead it seemed to lower the intensity of all their other senses, calming their nerves and bringing a strange sense of comfort to them.

What was going on?

"Hey," Sebastian's head turns to face the farmer, his smile faint. "I was thinking."

The farmer's eyes flutter closed, listening to his words but unable to turn their gaze towards him. If they couldn't see him, maybe his words wouldn't be real.

"You've been living here for quite some time now and..." the farmer can barely hear his clothes rustle as he lifts his arm and reaches out his hand towards the farmer's face. One of his knuckles brushes the farmer's cheek, but they can barely feel it. They feel desensitized, trying not to focus on him, but with every breath they take all they can smell is smoke. It smells so intense, wafting from his clothes and invading their nostrils, refusing to go away as all their other senses fade away.

"I think we have grown a lot closer..." Sebastian is practically talking in their ear but the farmer can barely hear him. They try to block him out, their mouth falling slightly agape, trying to focus on breathing through their mouth instead of there nose, but his scent perseveres, ingrained into their memory and wrapping around their wrists to sink into their skin and tickle their brain.

"And I..." Sebastian's voice fully fades away and the farmer forces their eyes open. Everything appears blurry, the colors smeared together into incomprehensible reminisces of the real world. The farmer swallows hard, turning their face towards Sebastian. Everything looks so much darker now- scarier as everything melts away into chaos yet the smell of smoke refuses to dissipate. It remains, tangling around them and forcing them to appear calm-

The farmer opens their eyes, bright sunlight filtering in as they remember where they are. They are currently kneeling in the fields of their farm West of their house, fertilizing their seeds to ensure a good harvest later in the season.

They take a deep breath to steady their shaking hands, the scent of smoke missing from their environment. The farmer hasn't seen Sebastian in over a week after that night on the pier, and they can't stop thinking about it- how they wanted to panic but they couldn't. How the harder they tried to shut him out and pull away from what was happening, the more they were thrown into it.

The farmer shakes their head and stands back up, deciding it was time to change their point of focus to keep their mind from wandering.

The farmer spends the rest of the day on simple tasks, changing their focus whenever their mind began to lose focus. They were panicking, trying their very best to take what kept arising in their thoughts and bury it. They didn't want to acknowledge what they were feeling, and they certainly didn't want to let anyone else figure it out.

By nightfall the farmer assumes it is safe to leave their property and head into town. Being inside their house wasn't ideal, and being in town during the day time wasn’t either. People ask questions, and certain objects carry memories, so the farmer wanted to do their best to avoid both settings. 

The farmer stops in the middle of the dirt road, spotting the bus stop in the distance. Something wasn’t right- but it isn’t until a certain scent wafts into their nostrils do they realize what it is.

“I was worried about you,” Sebastian’s voice calls out from the darkness, his silhouette coming out from the bus stop’s general direction as he steps into the road. “Is the farm work holding you up?”

The farmer feels through throat tighten, watching as Sebastian casually wanders over to them. He is wearing the same black hoodie he always wears and they spot him shoving a carton of cigarettes in his hands into his pocket, hiding them away out of sight.

The farmer wished everything was that easy; to simply take something and hide it away like it wasn’t there. They were trying to take Sebastian and hide him away in the depths of their brain but he just kept forcing his way to the front, his smile radiating in their mind and his scent torturing them even when he wasn’t around.

“We left on a strange note last week on the pier...” Sebastian admits, his voice fading away from the farmer’s ears despite him drawing closer, stopping in front of them. “When you didn’t reply to my texts that night I just thought you needed space but I...”

The farmer can no longer hear the words he is saying, their eyes meeting his but his face washes away like diffusing water colors. They try to act like they are paying attention, their fists clenched together at their sides as they try to wring out their emotions from their body without him noticing.

Sebastian was being so sweet, couldn’t the farmer see that? He was taking the leap the farmer was too scared to take, but didn’t he understand how hard the fall could be if he doesn’t make it? How there is no possible recovery from such a fall like that? Couldn’t he just sit back in his room as if the farmer had never existed and continue with his life- was risking their friendship worth it?

The smell of smoke swirled around the farmer’s feet before inching upward towards their face. Sweat began to form on the farmer’s face as they tried to ignore it, but the scent just poured into their pores, forcing them to acknowledge what was right in front of them. 

The farmer lets out a heavy breath and their eyes flutter closed. They then slowly inhale through their nose, allowing the smell of cigarette smoke send a shiver through their body. Their fists fall open into a more relaxed state, the sound of Sebastian’s voice slowly tuning back in. They lean forward towards him, their arms opening up wide. They would have fallen forward if Sebastian didn’t step forward to close the gap between them, engulfing them into a hug before they can tip over.

The farmer nuzzles their face into his hoodie, the scent it is stained with soothing their thoughts. They could only think of one thing, and a soft smile covers their face against his hoodie that falters into a deep frown, a soft sob escaping their lips.

“I’m sorry,” they whisper against his chest, returning his hug with a tight squeeze. “I thought I could close you out and I just...”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian assures them, the smile being heard in his voice. “I just missed you.”

“I missed you too,” the farmer nods and Sebastian hugs them tighter, letting the silence sink comfortably in.

The farmer couldn’t deny their feelings anymore, and maybe that leap Sebastian made wasn’t so scary after all if the person on the other side is willing to pull you up if you fall short.

[janellion]

rainy day with kags (4 lexee)

@oyakags asked: hello hello :) i’ve been thinking, and i was wondering if you would want to write a little somethin about spending a rainy day with kageyama? :) i don’t know if that’s too vague. absolutely no rush and of course you don’t have to at all if you don’t feel like it, but i love kags & you plus i love the vibe of rainy days and i feel like you are a master at vibes ♡

LEXEE!! thank you so much for requesting this!! i had so much fun writing it & thinking about you & kags (bc yeah i tried to cater it to you as much as possible hehe) i kinda took it in a different direction so i hope you like it! ♡ also master at vibes? you’re gonna kill me w these compliments i swear i-

pairing: kageyama tobio x gn! reader (written as f!reader but can be read as gn!reader)

genre: fluff (meet cute)

summary: sometimes the universe surprises you

wc: ~2.2k

song recommendations: rainy girl - andrew mcmahon and the wilderness x | she always takes it black - gregory alan isakov x

This morning when you left the house, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you could feel a warm breeze on the air. For all intents and purposes, it was a perfect summer day.

But, the universe had other ideas

Two hours into your planned day of errands, you feel a single raindrop wet your cheek.You brush it off with a gentle sweep of your hand, dismissing it as a fluke, and continue walking down the path of the outdoor mall, taking in the colorful storefronts and shops around you. 

But a few minutes later that first drop was followed by another, and then another until the sound of rain hitting the ground around you began to fill your ears

As happy as you were this morning about the sunshine, your heart leaps at the possibility of an unexpected storm. You take a moment to tilt your face up to the sky, feeling the warm summer rain against your face, wetting your hair, and seeping through the shoulders of your shirt as you raise your arms to feel the rain on your skin

You feel a smile creep onto your face, enjoying the spontaneity and rush of the summer storm around you before you hear a voice yelling from behind you. You whip around to greet the voice, wet hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks flushed from excitement, and eyes bright

When you turn around you find a tall dark haired man jogging toward you, dark eyes wide and staring at you with a light flush coloring his cheeks. He freezes as your eyes meet his, setting his jaw as your eyes drift to catch his adam’s apple bobbing up and then back down, before he closes the distance between you and clears his throat to speak

“You uh, were just standing in the rain,” he says, voice surprisingly low, as he holds out an arm to you, a crumpled piece of clothing in hand

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smile ghosting your lips, before taking the offered clothing. You uncrumple the dark fabric in your hands until the shape of a rain jacket begins to form

- You pause for a moment before looking at the man in front of you, noticing how handsome he is, his dark eyes earnest and open, despite the purse of his lips

- He looks down at you, raising his eyebrows as he speaks, “Well you were standing in the rain. And I didn’t want you to get wet?”

- He ends the sentence with a cough, looking off to the side as he feels his cheeks begin to heat up again

- You laugh warmly, eyes twinkling as you take in the wet state of his clothes, the now-wet fabric of his shirt hanging from his broad shoulders and clinging to his arms

- You feel your cheeks flush before snapping your eyes upward to his face as you sling his jacket over your shoulders

- You smile as you push your arms through the sleeves noting the way they extend far past your hands, before smiling warmly up at him, “Thank you, that was really nice of you, uh,....?”

- He flushes again, taking in the sight of your bright eyes blinking up at him through wet eyelashes, hair wet and sticking to either side of your face, and a wide excited smile painting your soft lips before he realizes that you’re still waiting for an answer

- “Oh it’s Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio,” he finally says, bringing his eyes to yours before giving you a soft smile

- You return his smile and feel your body relax before your face falls as you realize — you’re both still standing in the rain

- “Oh my gosh, wait! We have to get you out of the rain, you don’t have a jacket anymore!” You say, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him under the nearest awning to escape the rain

- Kageyama’s eyes widen as he feels your skin against his, warm despite the cooling sensation of the rain as it evaporates on his skin

- As you finish pulling him out of the rain, you look at him, eyes wide and apologetic, “Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry I don’t know how I didn’t realize you were getting all wet! I’m so sorry about that!” You exclaim, arms going to his shoulders to feel the dampness of his shirt

- He flushes at the contact, mind flashing back to the image of you looking up at him through wet eyelashes, a moist sheen on your smiling lips, before chuckling softly as he looks briefly down at the ground between you before bringing his eyes to meet yours, “It’s completely fine. I don’t blame you at all,” he says

- You exhale in relief, arms retreating back to your sides, before a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take in the sight in front of you

- He looks down at you through dark bangs, eyebrows quirked and lips pulled into a barely-there scowl, “What’s so funny?” He asks, not attempting to hide the suspicion in his voice

- You return his gaze, barely able to hold back a smile as you say, “Were you on your way to get a haircut or something?”

- With that, his scowl melts into a wide smile, and his eyebrows rise up behind matted bangs in surprise as his eyes begin to crinkle with laughter

- He brings a hand up to his hair, fingering the dark strands as water drips from them

- You watch as a single droplet makes its way down his cheek before landing on his barely exposed collar bone

- You snap your eyes back up to his quickly, feeling your face heat up, as you bite the inside of your cheek, only catching the end of his sentence

- “-standing there in the rain,” he finishes saying, a light blush on his cheeks, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he speaks, betraying the soft look in his eyes

- You smile at him, nodding in understanding, pretending to have heard him before glancing at the door behind you over your shoulder

- You perk up upon noticing where you two have ended up: a coffee shop, and turn back towards Kageyama, smile bright on your face

- “You saved me from getting soaked, the least I can do is buy you a coffee,” you say, gesturing over your shoulder to the door of the coffee shop behind you

- His eyes widen briefly in surprise before he lets out a breath you hadn’t realized he had been holding

- You feel a strong arm wrap reach behind you, your eyes widening in surprise and cheeks flushing at the proximity of Kageyama’s face moving towards yours, before you’re pulled from your thoughts by the jingle of a bell

- Kageyama looks down at you, eyebrow quirked and a smile trying to push its way past his lips

- “After you”, he says, pushing the door open even further for you, revealing the bustling sounds of the shop and allowing the familiar smell of coffee to lazily drift out the doorway to greet you

- You pause for a brief moment, enjoying the proximity of Kageyama’s face inches from yours before turning around and stepping into the shop

- With your back turned, you don’t get to see the smile that’s been fighting its way past that scowl finally make its way onto his lips as he walks into the shop behind you

- You approach the counter, looking up at the playfully decorated menu hung up behind it, trying to decide what you want, before that strong deep voice pulls you from your thoughts

- “What do you want?” Kageyama asks, wallet already out, at the front of the line

- Your jaw drops momentarily and your eyebrows come together as you approach him, a teasing smile on your face as you recover

- “I was supposed to be treating you!” You laugh gently, trying to bump him out of the way with your hip

- To your pleasant surprise, he doesn’t move an inch, just looks down at you with the corner of his mouth quirked up and expectant eyes as he gestures to the waiting barista in front of you

- “OH I’ll have an iced vanilla coffee please,” you say, smiling at the barista as they take your order

- Kageyama hands over his card and you huff at him softly before sighing

- “Thank you, seriously” you say, looking up at him as the two of you walk to the other side of the counter. “I feel like I’m going to owe you a million favors by the end of the day,” you say, laughing sheepishly

- Kageyama looks at you, smiling that soft smile that lights up his dark eyes, before saying, “You don’t owe me a thing. I-,” he pauses for a moment, mind flashing back to when he first saw you, carefree smile on your upturned face, arms open, free and uncaring in a way he’d never experienced but felt so drawn to, “I really wanted to.”

- Before you can consider the faraway look in his eye, the barista calls Kageyama’s name and places your coffees on the counter with a smile

- “You two are a really cute couple,” they say, before turning around, completely oblivious to the effect their words have on you and Kageyama

- You take your coffee, heart beating fast and heat threatening to creep its way up your cheeks, before searching out the only open spot in the shop: a plush loveseat next to an electric fire

- You make your way over to the seat, failing to notice that Kageyama is still glued to the same spot you left him, blush painting his cheeks, stuttering as he tries to correct the barista who has long since moved away from the counter

- As you settle into the loveseat and take off Kageyama’s jacket, he takes a deep breath and releases it, trying to calm his nerves, before walking over to sit next to you

- You turn to him and smile, settling further into the couch as you get comfortable

- Kageyama on the other hand, is sitting like he’s about to be scolded by his parents for staying out past curfew, back straight and eyes forward

- You laugh softly at the sight in front of you, wondering how such a commanding and confident man can be simultaneously so awkward and shy

- You reach over and tap his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense at the brief touch

- “Relax,” you say, smiling over at him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as he finally turns his head to face you, “I’m not gonna bite”

- With that, he chuckles softly, mumbling something under his breath, before you feel the muscles in his shoulders relax, his tense body melting under your touch

- With a small chuckle you remove your hand and reach for your coffee, not failing to notice the stark change in temperature from the heat through Kageyama’s shirt to the chill of your coffee as you turn to watch the rain pour outside

- Kageyama seems to deflate a bit at the removal of your hand, but soon corrects his posture, grabbing his own coffee before following your gaze to look at the storm outside

- He pulls in a breath before turning to you, eyebrows furrowed, his dark eyes intense and trained on you, before releasing it

- You turn, sensing his gaze, a little taken aback at the intensity

- “What were you doing out there in the rain?” He asks, voice filled with a soft and measured intensity that you’re coming to associate with the man across from you

- You let out a breath, relieved that he wasn’t going to ask you something terrible and serious, before shrugging

- “I really love the rain, especially in the summer,” You say, turning to face him and bringing your eyes to meet his before continuing, “The warmth in the air and the cool rain on your skin. Who wouldn’t want to stand out there and enjoy it?”

- You pause, biting your lip before deciding to continue

- “There’s something so beautiful about a freak rain storm when it’s supposed to be nice outside,” you say, finally, returning the intensity of his look before continuing, “It’s like the universe wanted to send you a little surprise, you know?”

- Kageyama blushes before breaking eye contact with you to look back at the pouring rain outside

- His mind flashes back to the sight of you, face turned to the sky, eyes closed and carefree, smile on your face, and arms outstretched, looking for all the world like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen

- “Yeah,” he says softly, turning to look back at you with that same intensity, only this time you finally recognize it’s undeniable warmth, “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

☽

taglist: @softkatsuki

a/n: this was alternatively titled “rainy girl” but @megalodon-writes said i wouldnt title it this & a dare’s a dare

if you have any ideas/requests, please feel free to send them in! i can’t guarantee that i’ll do all of them, but i’ll certainly try ♡

[ruluxe]

First Line Tag Game II

tagged by @spaztictwitch 

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

Tagging Sam because if this is the only way to get more fic out of you then believe I’m gonna exploit it. Also @hadenxcharm @kuroosden bc I know there is more fic ya’ll are holdin out on us

1. Just the One [wip/shinoyama]: The news of Shino’s death devastates Yamagi and the conversation with Eugene he has afterwards doesn’t do anything to help ease the painful ache in his chest. [2017, Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Blooded Orphans]

3. Beyond Event Horizon [abandoned/klance/past!sheith]: Bixby’s limit ends on a long and winding dirt road in the middle of nowhere with nothing but dry desert plains and mountains that pierce the sky in the far distance. [2016, Voltron Legendary Defender]

2. Grind the Dirt [marker/wip]: This isn't how it’s supposed to go, Marco thinks as Striker's tonfa clips the edge of his jaw and the taste of blood explodes across his tongue. His shoulder's been dislocated, his lips are cracked and bloodied and every bone in his body suddenly feels as fragile as glass. [2016, Gangsta.]

4. Anemones & Agony [wip/picture perfect verse!imahana]: The thing about rules is that they're made to be broken. At least, that's Hanamiya's defiant outlook on everything, rebellious in his form with every task he's made to execute. [2016, Kuroko no Basuke]

5. What the Night Knows [klance]: He comes to Lance in the still of night, when the entire ship is quiet save for the surprisingly soft whir of its engine. [2016, Voltron Legendary Defender]

6. Within Reach [aokaga]: As a child, Aomine had always been entranced by the stars in the sky. There were so many of them; so many constellations and far-off galaxies that always held endless possibilities for his imagination to run wild. [2016, Kuroko no Basuke]

7. Save the Last Dance [8059/yamagoku]: Weddings were never Hayato’s thing; the expectancy of socially interacting, having to keep the same false smile plastered on his face and having drunk girls asking him for dances he cannot refuse. [2016, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!]

8. My Dream Was Actually You [aokaga]: The crowd’s roars and cheers for their victory are deafening. So loud that Aomine can't hear the sound of his own heart thudding against his chest or the rush of adrenaline pounding in his ears. When he looks up at stands, he can see Satsuki giving him a thumbs up alongside Tetsu. It makes him roll his eyes but his mouth slides too easily into a grin nowadays. [2016, Kuroko no Basuke]

9. Tides that Bind [matsuhana]: Everything goes still. For a fraction of a second it’s like Issei is suspended in a timeless space, giving him a moment to stop and take a breath. The sun has begun to disappear into the ocean, the thin crest of orange light bleeding out into the purple sky, streaking it with hues of yellow. The clouds are still, cotton swirls of pink against the backdrop of serenity. The water beneath is calm and rippling shimmering gold tides that kiss the sand to the same tune of Issei’s breathing. [2016, Haikyuu!!]

10. Untitled [wip/aokaga/some kind of royal/medieval knight au]: It begins with the warmth of the sun beaming on worn bodies pressed against one another wrapped in unnecessarily extravagant satin. There are scars spread across skin, mapped out like fissures and crevices of ancient and forgotten battlefields. [2016, Kuroko no Basuke]

11. Untitled [wip/matsuhana/Purge au]: Takahiro has always marched to the beat of his own drum but today, March 22nd, he marches to the beat of the drums signifying the countdown to commencement. [2016, Haikyuu!!]

12. If the World Fell at Our Feet [iwaoi]: The atmosphere is dry and static-charged like a spark at any given time would set the air aflame. The wind picks up, kicks sand into a hurricane that spins across the baron wasteland. It smells of heat and sulfur and iron like a volcano on the verge of eruption. [2016, Haikyuu!!]

13. Home for the Holidays [zhanyi]: Zheng Xi once read somewhere that the warmth and joy of Christmas brings people closer to each other. He's always been close with his family, so he's never really known what it feels like to be alone on Christmas, never known the true depth in the meaning of those words. [2016, 19 Days]

14. Saying Goodbye [zhanyi]: He smells nice. It's a thought Jian Yi shouldn't be having — not now — not when he's trying to forget, not now when he's asking for forgiveness and forgetfulness from the boy that holds him in an embrace that Jian Yi has already etched deep into his memory. He smells nice and he's warm. [2015, 19 Days] 

15. The Most Beautiful Sight [wip/sourin]: Sousuke's back is to him when he enters the waiting room; the large hospital window and the glow of the rising sun frames him in an almost holy divinity. From Rin's vantage point, Sousuke looks like he's staring out at the sorbet streaks of the early morning sky contemplating their existence. Rin knows that Sousuke doesn't see the beauty of the sunrise, he's likely brooding, trying to mask the nervous fret that has noticeably drawn tension in the other's shoulders. [2016, Free!]

16. Simplicity [saigenos]: The gold of Genos' eyes flicker under the dim flood of the orange street lamp. They seem to almost glow through the fog like headlights, and Saitama finds himself staring — but admittedly that's all he can do right now. [2015, One Punch Man]

17. Don’t Need an Excuse [aokaga]: “Hey… Tai.” “Yeah?” Aomine pauses his game and glances over his shoulder. Kagami’s lying on the couch absorbed in an article he’s reading in a magazine. He’s chewing on his bottom lip the way he does when he’s concentrating. He sounds a million miles away. “I love you.” This gets Kagami to shut his magazine, turn his head in Aomine’s direction, enough for Aomine to see the look of perplexity scribbled across his face. “What did you do?” [2015, Kuroko no Basuke]

18. In the End, It’s Enough [aokaga, past!/unrequited!aokise]: It's not as warm in the stadium as Kise had thought it would be when he slips through the heavy doors quietly as not to disturb the audience. The screeching of rubber against laminate echoes through the space as do the bellowing voices of the players on the court. It's been a while since he's been to one of these games. [2015, Kuroko no Basuke]

19. Entwined [marker]: It seems fitting that things would end like this; Striker can't say he expected any other outcome. The heat of Spas' breath at his cheek is fading, each billow of breath gets more shallow with each exhale. Striker's limbs are starting to give out, he can feel the exertion in his legs as they struggle to keep him and Spas' added weight upright. The warmth of the other's blood seeping through his skin is comforting; his own beginning to congeal in the corners of his eyes and along the line of his nose. The sharp tang of metal is all Striker can smell, even with his nose pressed to Spas' skin. [2015, Gangsta.]

20. The Game [galahau]: The ropes aren't tight enough to cut into his wrists, but they burn friction along his skin when he struggles against his restraints. Galahad watches Hausen with bated breath, watches as the other drags a lube-slicked finger down the length of his cock. 

WAY LONGER THIS TIME OOPS also, here... I noticed that my writing style is so fucking inconsistent :’)