#i love them which is why they have to be Hurt and Broken and Dead Inside first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vnti-vntiety-recs · 7 months ago

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GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)

★ PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut

☆ SUMMARY: No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.

☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3

It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.

“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.

“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset.

“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”

“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes

“He pushed you down the stairs!?”

“It was a mistake!”

You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around.

You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!”

“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later.

“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”

Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart.

You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.

“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”

Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.

Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him.

You also know he would never let you live it down.

You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore.

"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,

“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers

“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”

You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly

"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”

"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.

You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.

She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him.

You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.

It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.

As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting.

You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.

“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats.

“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests

“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.

"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”

It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.

You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.

You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

You could hear the scolding now…

”it's too cold to be wearing that”

“it's too dangerous for you to be here”

“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”

It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.

He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.

Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.

Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn.

Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.

Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.

You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.

The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit.

On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.

“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.

“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills.

“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says.

Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.

You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security.

Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.

It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore.

Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.

“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.

“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.

“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.

Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.

“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish

"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you.

“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.

Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room.

Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds

You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps.

“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.

Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.

“Gross,” you grumble

“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.

It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it.

You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately.

“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.

Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story.

He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”

"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.

He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late”

When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.

He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself.

You are grown now!

He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.

He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.

“If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.

"Ok,” You grumble

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.

"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues

“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.

Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.

You are grown now!

Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school.

Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays.

You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you.

“Morning doll, did you get my text?”

You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.

Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.

“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”

"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.

“I dont think—”

“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness

You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it.

He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.

With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.

You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.

“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.

“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.

“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding.

You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.

You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this.

“He did what?!”

“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly

“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.

“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her

“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers

“I'll figure this out”

“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.

When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.

You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.

“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood.

“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”

You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.

You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you.

Summer freshman year of highschool

You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance.

It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.

“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically

"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”

He just nods his head and waits for you to continue

“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.

You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet

You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words

“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out

Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.

‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.

“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”

“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.

Jenos eyes harden with disbelief “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”

"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.

“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand

You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns

“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop.

“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.”

(¬_¬) snitch

He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly.

“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”

“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you

Point taken.

You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to! I was worried”

"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”

"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.

You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.

You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.

You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!

Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume.

"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.

The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”

You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag.

You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head.

Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.

Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.

“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?”

Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”

“I'm not asking for your help!”

“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”

“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back

“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs

“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.

“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”

You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.

“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands.

You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on.

“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.

Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt.

Hes going easy on you

You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.

“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.

You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head.

“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough.

Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.

"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.

You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark.

"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.”

He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.

“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried.

You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.

Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.

How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L.

It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?

The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck”

“I want to see what your doing”

Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.

“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.

He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.

Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.

Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.

Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.

As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken.

Come on, please

You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.

He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.

“What are you doing!?”

“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.

“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”

“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states

You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.

“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”

“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.

“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.

"Good,”

You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno.

It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.

Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa.

“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.

You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage

“I had a match the other—”

“Don't lie to me,” you urge

“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses

Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.

“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says

You didn't respond.

“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”

You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?”

"Maybe,” he winces

“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”

“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers.

“Let me clean you up”

Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood

He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs.

“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you.

You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt.

“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.

"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”

“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.

A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I like being near you; don’t push me away again”

"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession

“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—

You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?

“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue

“What are you talking—”

“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.

You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe

Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.

“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock

“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?”

He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him.

"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister”

“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.

“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.

He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”

Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright.

You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.

“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases

This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck.

He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt.

“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.

“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips

“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.

You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.

He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.

“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly

You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.

“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering

“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten.

He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.

“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features

“What if I do?”

“I want you to,” you whisper back

That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible.

You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.

He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet.

It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.

Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.

“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.

“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh

Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.

He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.

You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him.

It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.

찬스노래방

Chance Karoake

You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination.

This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business.

You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you.

Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.

“Welcome home, doll”

You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.

“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.

Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside.

“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts

“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.

“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.

You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.

All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.

With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.

“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.

With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air.

The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.

When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno.

You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay.

You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.

“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.

“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.

For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on.

“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls

“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man

“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?”

“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically. If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.

“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat.

“”I found Yuta”

“Jeno…What did you do to him?”

“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”

“Jen—”

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”

“I had too. I had to do it for me”

“Where are you”

“At your apartment”

“Stay there”

You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street.

You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation.

"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.

Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.

“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”

“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”

You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again”

He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.

“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”

“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”

He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.

You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.

“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers

“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess

He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”

And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.

#jeno smut #nct jeno smut #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno #lee jeno smut #nct jeno #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream images #nct dream fanfic #kpop smut

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nekomanager · 11 months ago

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🥂 18+, f!reader, frottage, rough sex, multiple orgasm, creampie, fingering, squirting, ahegao

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈, your childhood friend, was looking at you straight in the eyes. His deadpan stare pierced deep right through where it hurt the most.

“I don’t need that,” he said after you showed him the Christmas present you had for him. “Stop trying too hard.”

You hugged the box tightly in your arms, keeping your tears at bay. “I-I’m sorry. I should just go,” you said completely pained by the rejection of the boy you loved since you were a little child. “I-I’ll just leave this right here.”

You hurried to exit his apartment never expecting to have your heart broken during the holidays season. You had always pined for him since you were in pre-school. He grew from a dear friend to someone you knew you wanted to spend your life with. You were supposed to confess to him today after many years of bottling up your feelings, but his response came right in before you could utter the words..

Stop trying too hard.

Your lips quivered. Was that how he viewed you all along? Someone...just someone who’s trying too hard to be with him.

You pulled the knob down opening the door but it closed right before you in an instant.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

Glancing up, you saw Nagi’s hand flat on the door’s surface, keeping it close as he towered behind you.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, his breath fanning against your ear. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Your eyes widened. You turned around, facing him. “W-What are you...”

You met his eyes in pure confusion and he stepped closer to you, pressing himself close to your body.

Your heart beat loudly in you chest while your senses were filled with his lingering scent. He was close. Too close. “Sei...”

And he took your words with his lips against yours. You didn’t know what’s happening or why was this even happening. You were weak in his arms. Your mind was lost with how he kissed you so sensually. His tongue was massaging yours in a loving manner that got you feeling hotter in between your knees. His strong arms were around your frame, cradling you firm in his embrace. His lips travelled to the crook of your neck, tasting you and breathing you in.

“I’m sorry I can’t say how I truly feel,” Nagi whispered against your skin which sent shivers across your spine.

Your breath hitched with his words while he parted a little, giving you a chance to search his gaze. Your heart swelled with how the look in his eyes was a dead giveaway of his emotions.

“Y/N...I...” He swallowed thickly as he fumbled and stumbled over the words he was trying to roll off his lips. “I uh- I...Y/N I-“

You stole the words from his lips with a sudden kiss and he deepened right it right back almost sucking the air from your lips. You clasped your hands on the back of his neck and he scooped you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your fingers laced around the strands of his hair while your tongues got tangled in tasting each other. His hands were firm on your thighs as he carried you to his bed and finally laying you down.

Pleasure was building up uncontrollably and you both found no strength to stop it. It had been a long time coming. You both knew you were feeling this way for so long now that you two wanted nothing but to burn even further in your unbridled desires.

Nagi’s lips were on your neck as he slid under your shirt and captured your breast. He squished on your soft flesh while his thumb padded your sensitive nipple. He sucked the skin on your shoulder enough to make your pussy throb, prompting you to grind against him.

Oh, god. He’s sporting a tent! You could even feel his bulge against even through the thick material of your pants that’s frustratingly getting in the way.

You whined, craving to feel more of him and he knew it right away, so he lifted your top garments off to suck your unattended tit. With his free hand, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down with your undies, finally gaining easier access to your pussy. He massaged your puffy wet lips completely drenching his two fingers.

“Ah! Uhn~” you moaned when Nagi found your clit. He fervently rubbed the spot which had you wriggling in pleasure under him. Releasing your tit with a pop from his mouth, he got on his knees and sat up. He moved his fingers away from your clit and pushed it in deep inside you. Your mouth fell agape with the sensation. It...feels so good.

Slowly, he massaged your insides, hitting the perfect spot that got you wanting for more. Your back arched in need as you pushed against his fingers. Hmmmnnn...you lightly trembled.

“You want more. Just tell me,” he said, heaving with lust-colored eyes. “Do you want more?”

“Y-Yes, please...” You nodded your head in despair and pushed in deeper. He responded by hooking his fingers in and pumping hard and fast that got you fisting the sheet of his bed as your hips raised higher.

“Ohhh aah aaah! Aaah! This is..Sei aaahn~” Your body shook wildly in bliss as your arousal sprayed over his hand.

He planted a kiss over your forehead and got in between your legs. Hovering you, he freed himself from his sweatshirt and slithered out of his own pants to free his aching cock. His tip was kissing the soft lips of your pussy as his tongue tried to open your other lips for a kiss, which you gladly reciprocated. His long cock was rubbing so satisfyingly against you as he sucked your tongue so deliciously.

“I want you,” he huffed. “I want you so bad.”

“Me too. I want you too,” you cooed.

Shit! He felt his dick go harder.

Nagi aligned his member against your slick entrance, coating the tip with your wetness while teasing your already sensitive clot that got you shivering. He lovingly placed a hand over your head and asked, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled yet it was instantly replaced with a shock as his lengthy cock stretched your little filthy hole.

Oh my go- It’s so hot. It feels so hot.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you breathed out.

“I’ll start moving,” he said as he began easing in and out of you rather sensually. Your hips shook to meet his movements wanting more friction and pleasure utterly desperate to cum yet again.

Nagi couldn’t bear it any longer too and his body soon moved reflexively—his thrusts were becoming more and more hurried, getting rougher second by second. His skin was slapping against yours as he was now drilling you hard and oh so fucking deep your head was touching the headboard whenever he would hit your core.

This...was driving you crazy. You couldn’t even make up his equally lust-filled expression as your vision blurred with too much ragged movement and intense pleasure.

“Aaah...aaah...ahhh!” You moaned and whined endlessly as you wrapped your arms around his muscular frame the way your legs did around his waist. He grabbed a hold of your waist, lifting you up from the bed and reining control of your body. He kept you still as he pounded strongly into your pussy.

“Augh shit- You’re tightening up,” he cursed under his breath.

“I! I! It’s close! I’m close!” Your nails dug deep into skin. “Sei! Sei! I’m-“

Your head tilted back as your eyes and mouth popped open, drool slipping down your mouth as the wave came crashing in. Your body trembled in his embrace and it kept on trembling non-stop as he fucked you senseless in his race to his own orgasm. Pulling his long and pulsating hard cock all out and finally slamming right back in hard, he delivered another mind-shattering orgasm that got you on the verge of passing out as he spilled his cum inside you.

What happened? Last thing you remembered was telling Nagi that you bought him the shoes he’d been eyeing for so long as Christmas present only to be rejected by him...until...

You felt a weird sensation in between your legs. You opened your eyes, finding yourself resting on Nagi’s chest with both of you still naked. You glanced up at him and he cupped your cheek, concern spread across his face.

“Are you fine? Do you need water? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“I’m alright,” you said, blushing. You couldn’t believe you two would have sex before you could even confess out loud.

“About your gift. I love it. I’ll wear them on my next game.” Dearly, he caressed your head. “You don’t have to go buy something that expensive for me though. That’s...that’s what I really meant.”

“I know,” you affirmed rather shyly. You always fought like cat and dog ever since you were children, but somehow what happened a while ago triggered something between yhe two of you that had your emotions exploding.

“I have a gift for you too,” he sat the both of you up and fetched something from his bedside drawer. “Here,” he picked up a small box and gave to you.

You were surprised to find a necklace inside. He took it out of the box and laced it around your neck. “It’s your birthstone. Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you said through a smile and he kissed your nape then your shoulder.

“Thank god. I know nothing ‘bout these things. The lady in the jewelry shop said it’ll be good to start with this.”

You chuckled and leaned back against his chest. Even if you knew what each other feels without saying, you still wanted to clearly convey your feelings.

Looking right through his eyes, you tried to muster, “Sei I-I-“

But he cut you off with a kiss, giving you courage to confess.

“I love you,” he said.

You smiled and replied, “Me too. Ever since.”

He closed the gap between your forehead. “It’s always been the same for me.”

And Nagi tightened his hold on you, kissing you deeper as you spent the cold season, finally, basking in the warmth of each other.

@suyacho enlo, baby! this is your secret santa 🎅 I hope you like this tho it's a bit too late 🙈 happy holidays! 🎄☃️🎆 for @enchantedforest-network secret santa

#nagi x reader #nagi smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut

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matsunoluvr · 3 months ago

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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how you tamed monster!sylus…

warnings: descriptions of some violence, blood, injuries, rushed ending (lol)

character: sylus

link to master list here!!

author’s notes: i saw some theories that sylus is actually inhuman and i’d fucking love if in a past life MC resonated and ‘tamed’ him which is why he’s particularly fond of her, like i’m such a sucker for ‘inhuman’ things gaining humanity through love

my requests are open since i’m running low on ideas hehe :3

more under the cut!

monster!sylus was indifferent to everything at first, if you got hurt you got hurt. why would he feel anything?

he’d hurt many things before, killed many things before. such trivial matters did not bother him.

that was until, somehow he managed to get hurt.

watching you, a human, far more fragile than he could ever be panic over his wound was confusing for him.

the way you frantically dug in your bag to wrap his arm in gauze - his blood seeping into the pale cloth as he watches you, intrigued.

he could stop the bleeding at any moment, any time, but he doesn’t. instead, he opted to watch you flailing over his injury with a neutral expression.

only when he noticed his human form growing a little pale did he decide to stop blood flow to the wound, choosing to inspect the bandage you put on him carefully.

“What use is this?”

picking at the uncomfortable material, you scold him and tell him to ‘keep it on until it heals’ - monster!sylus decides not to tell you he already healed the site as soon as you finished fussing over him

the next time he got hurt, he decided not to heal himself and instead present his injury to you.

holding up his finger which was (basically) broken in half, he looked at you expectantly.

if you weren’t so utterly dumbfounded at the nonchalant manner in which he presented you with a severely mangled appendage you might’ve made a comparison to him and a cat looking at its owner after bringing them a dead rat

monster!sylus who proceeded to watch you freak out a little, fix him up then scold him (again) for being so reckless.

he was interested at the care you took to make it as painless as possible (it was safe to say you were terrible at it, he was trying not to wince the whole time. yeah he was a monster, but why are human bodies really fucking fragile and sensitive?), eyes flitting between your hands and your face

this was probably the first instances of sylus receiving care, being cared about, and holy shit he didn’t know what to do

monster!sylus that would inwardly sigh every time you’d ask him ridiculous questions such as “have you eaten today?” or “do you think the sunset today is pretty?”

half the time he would scoff or shrug it off, the other half he would respond

when he responded he noticed the excited buzz in your voice as you’d give your own opinion on it - something that he grew to care about

“What do you think of this flower, isn’t it pretty Sylus?”

“It is?”

“It is! At least to me- [insert you talking about your favourite flower].”

*Sylus watching you with intent, beginning of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.*

monster!sylus who, at one point, sat under a tree with you, looking over the N109 zone towards linkon when his deep voice split through the silence

“Do you like me?”

the sudden and blunt question probably shocked you - your flustered response causing him to grow confused

what was wrong with the question?

was the point of asking not to find out answers one wants to know?

he would simply sit and stare at you until you responded, no matter how long it took you he waited

monster!sylus who finally realised what it felt like to be cared for when you answered ‘yes’, the warm sensation flooding his senses, and he was utterly confused.

it wasn’t as if you’d devoted yourself to him, nor had you sworn your loyalty for life - but the idea that you liked him…

he gave you no response, looking off into the distance as he tried to process the information.

when you asked him ‘Aren’t you going to respond?’ he’s give some bullshit answer along the lines of “You haven’t asked me anything.”

he knows what you were asking.

for some reason, he can’t say anything back.

monster!sylus that slowly began to seek your presence, your company. waiting for you to show up became tiresome, he wanted to be with you.

showing up out of no where - when you were on a walk or entering your residency, he would all of a sudden appear and demand your attention (which you secretly didn’t mind giving).

each visit he’d stay longer, get a little closer, feel a little more.

you taught him how to laugh - well at least give an amused huff, how to do his hair ‘properly’ rather than having it sit erratically on his head.

moving his hair out of his eyes, you swoop it into a neat parting muttering something about not hiding his ‘pretty eyes’, arching over his lids and settling neatly.

however after looking in the mirror, he immediately ran his hand through the hair causing you to almost murder the man on the spot

you taught him how to appreciate cuisines, especially the different variants of drinks.

“This is what brand of wine? Ah… I see.”

you taught him how to treat wounds, how to cook simple foods, each visit a little date on its own.

monster!sylus who inevitably grew fond of you, watching you with a small smile no matter what you did.

if you ever pointed this out, he’d just shrug his shoulders and carry on with whatever he was doing before.

he didn’t notice at first, but you’d somehow managed to work yourself into his life - despite having tried to rid you many times before.

now, your company was second nature. for a solitary creature, he had never before had the chance to appreciate companionship.

you taught him how to.

monster!sylus who quickly learnt your interests. you loved the small, infant cats that would roam the streets - every time you’d stop at a shop, buy some food and nudge it towards the creatures.

you’d take him to ride on a horse - which he complained about being ‘too slow’ and that he could run several paces faster, so you introduced him to motorcycles.

sitting behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you both sailed through the night air, the city lights your stars.

monster!sylus who you sat next to, head resting against his shoulder.

“Relaxing so easily against me, have you forgotten what I truly am?”

if you’re confused, he’ll spell it out for you. he’s grown used to your obliviousness after all.

a monster

a being birthed by abhorrence, the dirt and filth that humans try so desperately to conceal. no amount of flesh, skin and bone could hide that fact, no amount of blood that spills against his hands could cloak such a stench.

cruel, disgusting, selfish. malevolence was second nature.

sylus who learnt what it felt like to be unconditionally loved in your gentle embrace.

eyes widening with surprise, he’ll ask you if you’re scared of him, you say never. you say that you could never be disgusted by him.

you tell him with so much conviction it may as well have been indoctrinated in the stars.

he couldn’t help but smile at your innocence, your ability to love the unlovable.

sylus who learnt how to feel fear as he watched the wanderer pierce your body - blood spurting from your chest.

his hands are covered in blood - palms slipping against your chest as he tries to plug the hole in your chest.

the warmth of your body, your soul, gushes from you in violent pulses - sylus can feel your trembling breaths, his eyes wide with panic. he fumbles around, cursing louder and louder as he watches you fade away.

“Fuck- fuck. Hold on, keep your eyes open - I can do something about this just wait.”

sylus who watches in despair as the life drains from your eyes, feeling the sharp throb in his eye propel his evol at the wanderer that murdered you

monster!sylus who rips the wanderer’s limb by limb, ensuring that the subject experienced each and every sensation as its soul parted from the mangled corpse

no mercy was shown as he suffocated the creature to death, crushing it’s neck as it squealed.

monster!sylus who stood over a corpse. the corpse of the person who taught him love.

monster!sylus who didn’t attend your funeral.

you never taught him how to grieve, never taught him what to do when you’d leave him - damned with immortality.

monster!sylus who never got to say the words he wanted to.

he could only see you where you lay, sitting helplessly by your tombstone.

it feels as though he’s been stabbed, a burning wound ripping down his throat. he knows the answer now.

“I love you too.”

AN: not proofread as usual i had fun writing the beginning but i had no idea how to finish it - i feel like sylus and MC had a tragic end which is why he’s so forward with his love for them now that he knows he loves them and that their time together can end any moment, unlike their previous life this life he’ll make sure MC knows he’s theirs! :3

#✧⁺ writing #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #lnd #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus qin #sylusposting #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lnd sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus imagine #lads sylus #sylus

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stargirl-writes · 14 days ago

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respite

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 2.2k

masterlist

summary

Amid the war, a healer and a soldier find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between love and survival. When exhaustion and unspoken wounds threaten to drive them apart, they must confront the weight of their fears, jealousy, and vulnerability—knowing that healing isn’t always about fixing what’s broken, but learning to hold on through the storm.

tags : angst, angst with a happy ending (!)

warnings : blood, tending to a wound

notes : hello my loves <3, 1 yr writing for a.s. and long story short all my energy was used trying to survive my medical internship. healer! reader is my most self indulgent coping mechanism— here's another angsty catastrophizing passage i'd like to share wit y'all hehe

Anakin Skywalker was a knife personified.

Sharp, blunt, useful. A touch can draw blood.

But despite the danger, he was made of steel— unrelenting and unyielding. One would make an effort to not stare too much— at what his purpose of being reveals; that in the hands of someone cruel, he becomes something of a weapon.

They say that the healer has the bloodiest hands— a permanent imprint of those you've saved and those you've failed.

You try not to think about it too much— your losses cannot equate to the priviledge of a chance to keep someone alive. That was a gift. Only a God can define salvation—what you're doing is an attempt.

But what did your fingers ever do before they held him?

All of it seemed to pale in comparison.

Maybe the sun has set differently in Coruscant, a place always buzzing with neon and noise— maybe you just stopped noticing it the way you stopped noticing him. You don't know why there remained a part of you that was mistrusting, waiting for him to grow tired with you. Instead, the jagged streaks of electric blue and searing magenta faded into something soft, casting a warm golden light that lingers even after the sun slips behind the horizon, refusing to ever dim.

It's both comforting and heartbreaking that over time you could forget holding onto something so sharp long enough to feel it slip— can leave a trail of blood.

The door to your quarter hisses open— and the weight of Anakin fills the room before he utters a word. His boots are heavy on the floor, dragging with a kind of exhaustion that sinks deeper than muscle and bone. Even his shoulders, which assumes the posture of a Jedi slumps forward. He pauses— gaze wide and apprehending.

His robes are dark with dust and sweat, blood smeared across the cuffs of his bionic arms— not his, someone else's. Always someone else's. He stands there too long, unmoving, as if having already read what's on your mind.

"You're hurt," You speak across the room.

"I'm fine."

His voice is low, flat, like all the life has been scraped out of it. You've seen this before, the wounds he carries aren't the ones stitched into his skin.

He turns on his heel, taking off his clothes. You step closer, noticing the slight wince as he tries to reach for his robes. He held a pose of defiance, unflinching even as you slowly took off the fabric that clung to his flesh. You pressed your palm against the soft skin of his shoulders, coaxing him to sit by the edge of the bed.

He lets out a sigh as the robe slips off. You turn to grab the medkit sitting at your bedside table— its existence a harsh reminder that anytime he comes home— so will the hurt that resides deep within him.

His eyes are hooded and dark as he follows your fingers gently press over a gash lining his chest. He sat still— either too tired to care or too numbed to feel it.

"You can't keep doing this, Anakin,"

He tilts his chin upward, "Doing what?"

You paused, eyes locking in a silent challenge as he kept playing asinine.

"Coming back half-dead and pretending it doesn't matter" You pressed the cloth over his wound, he hisses, flinching away.

He takes your wrist, eyebrows furrowed at your accusation. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Barely."

You seal the wound with a sterile band, the scar tissue will build thick and uneven, just like all pain that he refuses to touch buried deep underneath.

It's hard not to get frustrated to watch Anakin undo all the work you've done— that he would resort to passively allowing it to hurt. His skill with a saber is unquestionable, a droid won't be able to even come near him to inflict pain. As the war dragged on— he'd come home late at night appearing more and more injured. Perhaps it's his way to alleviate some guilt. Because he needs it to believe a sort of redemption— that he is not reduced to what was required of him.

A weapon. Unyielding. Unrelenting.

You turn to pack your materials back to the medkit— no longer able to stomach the tensed silences. You can't quite remember when it felt as though you've become one. Someone who deals death and someone who restores life. Where you began and where he ended was the most beautiful thread in the fabric of fate. There had only been one night—just one— where he let himself sleep, slumped against you in a rare moment of peace. You remember the way his breathing evened, slow and steady, as if for a few precious hours, the war has loosened his grip on him. And the room is blanketed with a sort of promise, that he'll be here for you as you were for him. And that also meant working through the difficult days where loving simply won't suffice.

It seems that the difficult days are outnumbering the ones where you both were happy. Thinking back at it makes you feel as if those days had been another lifetime ago.

He slumps down the bed, arms folded holding his head. "I've handed the 501st' command to Ahsoka, the mission in Mandalore is dragging on, I need her with me,"

He's always carried more than he should. Always assumed the weight of a galaxy, even when it would break him. Having your back against him made it easier to deliberately slow down your words to an unassuming casualness. "Without Obi-Wan?"

You go to Obi-Wan to fill the gaps of the chasm forming between you and Anakin, the ones only Obi-Wan seems to understand.

You turn to sit down beside him. You didn't need to access the force to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

"I haven't seen him in a while," His eyes were staring ahead— up at the ceiling. "So… how is Obi-Wan?"

There was an unmistakable edge to his words—tinged with bitterness and accusation.

"What?"

He chuckles hollowly. "I figured you'd know by now. You always run to him."

His sarcasm drips with an underlying insecurity. Obi-Wan, a person he looks up to, being more trustworthy than he was. He's trying not to sound accusatory but it's obvious that he's struggling with jealousy.

You open your mouth to say something. To defend your actions. What else could you have resorted to? When anytime you try to bridge that gap between you, he turns away. Your heart lodges in your throat— any attempt to explain just sounded as if you and Obi-Wan had been conspiring to manage him.

He straightens, balancing his weight against his arms, gaze demanding an answer. "Why do you keep going to him?"

"I'm not—"

He stands to his feet, tension rippling through his body like a coiled spring. "Yes you are! Every time you think something's wrong you look for him like I'm in need of fixing."

You clasp your fingers together— begging them to steady. "I'm only worried about you— you keep coming home changed like…"

"You're disappearing.“ You answered, "How long can you go on like this without breaking?"

There was a beat of silence. He rubs his temples, pacing bad and forth like staying still is the hardest thing he's ever done.

"And so what, you're going to keep patching me up thinking I'll be someone else?" "No," "—Then stop pretending that I am."

“I keep losing everyone, I can't lose you too." You utter as the guilt verbalizes.

His expression softens recognizing the vulnerability of your words. Something in him falters— just for a moment, a breath—and the weight of his exhaustion settles to his shoulders. He kneels down in front of you.

"You're not losing me," He says, quiter this time, as if he's convincing himself as much as you.

"It feels like it…"

He clasps his fingers over your hands, unraveling them. He opens his mouth to say something back—but then he stops. His head dips, the fight draining out of him. In the quietness, you could hear him pace his breaths with yours.

"You're not going to go through this alone anymore," He shifts closer, his bare chest leaving imprints on the skin of your knees. "Ahsoka will be on Mandalore while Obi-Wan takes Utapau, I'll stay here."

Your fingers slip through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead, tracing the uneven skin lining his face. He leans into your touch, and for a little while, the storm settles, just enough to let you both breathe.

He'll always be someone else's arsenal. He is yours. In a way that you wear his touch as a shield, his promises as hope from all the battles left to fight. He plants soft kisses on the palm of your hand, and a light ignites. Something eternal. Something that tells you that there are things worth holding on to—even when it hurts. You're not going to find the resolution tonight. But this was the beginning. That would have to be enough.

"I'm staying," He says as he presses his lips to your palm again, as if sealing the promise neither of you fully understands yet.

You nod, a smallest curve at the corner of your lips, for a fleeting moment, you feel him smile too.

It feels as though love will suffice. You knew he'd weave the fabrics of fate until it only spells your name. That he will tire, and it will not be easy.

"You know for someone who's fine, you're really bad at hiding pain."

Anakin's lips curved to a faint tired smirk— barely there, but real enough to make your heart lighten. He snakes his long fingers against your waist, pulling you closer until his warmth anchors you.

"Guess you must be rubbing off on me." He murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion, but there's a softness in it—like something broken finding a way to heal.

For a moment the weight lifts. It's not gone, not really, but the edges have dulled enough that you can hold him and not wince at the contact of him being pressed against you. Neither of you speaks again, nor moves again. In the dim of night, with senses dulled, the ordinary becomes profound. And— all of the terror slips away, for now. He no longer is someone that breeds horror. He is love. Made solely to be felt by you.

#anakin #anakin fanfiction #star wars #anakin imagine #anakin x you #anakin angst #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #sw #star wars x reader #angst with a happy ending #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin star wars #anakin (ciella's ver)

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ennn · 8 days ago

Text

Re: “Rio's goal is to kill Agatha so she can be with her forever”

My brother in Christ, if Rio's ultimate goal this series was to kill Agatha we wouldn't have gotten past the first episode.

Okay okay, I get how it can be confusing because Rio literally says she wants to see Agatha dead in episode one and tells Agatha she'll let the Salem Seven (who do want Agatha dead) know where she is.

But it is noteworthy that Rio tells Agatha what she is going to do and when the Salem Seven are expected to arrive. Rio is usually surprisingly fair in how she deals with Agatha.

Rio has always met Agatha at her power level

In episode one, even assuming Agatha was protected by Wanda's spell and Rio couldn't harm her there, once it was broken Rio went "full analog" – to quote Hahn – with her knife, the only magic she used being the wind blasts.

Guys, that's not a serious murder attempt, that's foreplay to them. Violent, bloody, sexy foreplay.

Also Rio has healing powers. That's a thing they have very clearly shown.

To be clear, my read is that Rio can't actually kill anyone before their time ("You can't kill me, it's not allowed") just hurt them really really badly until they maybe choose to die ("I can make you wish you were dead"). Which you could argue equals killing I suppose, just slower.

But this is Agatha Harkness: all she really needs to survive is a bit of time to scheme and manipulate and do her usual girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting – and I think Rio also knows this. Agatha keeps surprising her, for better and worse.

Yes, Rio gets BIG MAD in episode 8 because Agatha says possibly The Worst Thing to her but the first part of their confrontation is technically physical torture, not murder attempts.

I know it sounds like I'm splitting hairs here but my point is that having Agatha dead isn't Rio's ultimate #1 goal. It's not so clean and easy.

There's something to be said about how the wounds Rio inflicts speak to how Rio sees herself hurt by Agatha emotionally in the relationship i.e. death by a thousand cuts, the severing of her Achilles tendon.

There’s probably something also be said about the relationship a being like Rio has with physical pain. Trees feel pain. Everything living does. Rio mocks Agatha for dulling herself to it using dark magic.

But I digress.

Anyway, note: it's only after Agatha gets magic back that Rio starts throwing magic blasts – and even then she seems to be holding back.

These two are possibly the worst two witches to fight each other directly like this because Agatha can't absorb Rio's magic or she'll die. She has to actively block or avoid all hits. And I bet this isn't something Agatha is used to dealing with considering she had no issues taking Wanda's magic.

And Rio is aware of this because she’s just lobbing quick little green blasts Agatha's way. It's not a torrent of magic like what Agatha is gleefully unleashing.

It's also the Watsonian (in-universe) explanation as to why this fight is so short. Because you literally can't straight up fight Death. Rio is a hard counter to Agatha's special siphoning ability just like how Agatha was a hard counter to Wanda's magic (insert your scissors-paper-stone visual of choice).

Rio doesn't want Agatha dead, she wants Agatha to want her

It's clear that Rio is grieving when Agatha dies. This isn't the outcome she wants. They're also both crying during the kiss it's great.

Rio wants what Agatha specifically tries to deny in the deal Agatha proposes: she wants to keep pursuing Agatha, to keep seeing her, provoking her, to be shocked and surprised by her. To keep loving her but also, to keep hurting her.

Because Agatha also hurts her right back. And Agatha knows she has Rio constantly on the emotional backfoot, that Rio – despite centuries of hatred thrown her way – still humours her more often than not and what levers to push.

I don't think this can happen with Agatha dead and gone.

To be fair, we don't know what the rules are in this world's afterlife. The only insight we get into Rio's job is her scene with Alice and that still leaves a lot of things unanswered: Does Rio just escort souls to a destination or does she have more control beyond that, like a domain? Can souls refuse to go with Rio? How do ghosts happen?

I had previously assumed Rio needed to allow it but Schaeffer says that her vision in that moment has Agatha's using an evolved form of the power to take Rio's magic by touch.

And with that, it's telling that it's Agatha who ultimately ensures that she dies (with the "calculated risk" of becoming a ghost), siphoning Rio's death magic energy.

Agatha embraces death, embraces Rio, but she also doesn't – Rio's clever witch got away again.

#agatha all along #agathario #agatha x rio #rio vidal #tv: agatha all along #ship: vidarkness #aaa meta #sometimes a bad take inspires me to write meta #aggravation is a fantastic motivator lol

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mykoreanlove · 7 months ago

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on being real

“I don’t want to date you anymore, Jackson.”

The silver fork he was holding in his left hand fell onto the marble floor, crashing the silence caused by your announcement. Jackson was visibly irritated, big frowns on his face.

“You… what? Why?”

For days you had been practicing this moment, imagining how you would explain your reasons and set him free. And even though you went over this moment hundreds of times, you were not prepared for the gravel pit of anxiety in your stomach. You didn’t do this because you didn’t want him, no. Your feelings were as strong as ever, but Jackson never opened up, he never let you take a look behind his porcelain façade. You decided to no longer waste your time with someone that only portrayed his good sides.

“I don’t feel like knowing you, Jackson. You only show me your good sides, you never share your problems with me. I just…”, you stumbled to find the right words.

“Say it, y/n”, he urged you with a serious tone.

“I feel like I’m dating a fake.”

Ouch, the pit grew bigger.

Jackson hid his face behind his hands, shielding himself from you. You didn’t think it would affect him that much, but his silent sobs gave him away.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

It didn’t take long for him to change into his real self, which you finally saw for the first time after months of dating. His eyes, always sparkly but never serene, turned dead, drained from life and love. You silently gasped, surprised to see the abyss behind the veil.

Jackson broke out in laughter as he wiped away his tears.

“Dating a fake, huh?”

Tears started to form in your eyes, seeing him like that broke your heart.

“What do you want to know, y/n? How broken I really am? You think you’re going to love that?”, he spat sarcastically.

You couldn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Jackson took another sip of his drink, grimacing in pain.

“Shall we talk about my crippling depression, then? You want to know what that’s like? To lie awake every night wondering if this is the life I want, the one that I deserve? Shall we talk about the accompanying anxiety which is clouding my mind 24/7? Am I doing enough? Am I true to myself? Is this really who I am? Shall we talk about my sweaty hands and rapid heartbeat? Me wondering if I’m about to drop dead any minute? Is that it?”

He paused and observed you, not understanding the reason behind your tears.

“Or shall we talk about my health problems? Did you notice how badly I’m griding my teeth? Should I tell you that my jaw is tense as fuck and my teeth are overly sensitive? That drinking and eating anything but warm liquor is making me wince in pain? You think I’m this skinny because I’m on a diet? No, y/n, far from it. Should I tell you how frustrated I am because I have tried literally anything, and no one can help me? You wanna know what that’s like? To be helpless in your own body? To be betrayed by your own fucking body?”

Your eyes wandered to the glass in his hands, finally understanding why he was always drinking so much. Jackson started pacing through the room while bearing his darkest secrets.

“Or shall we talk about the people I’m seeing for help? Because I’ve seen them all, y/n. I searched through whole fucking Asia, and everybody is saying the same shit. It’s all in your head, Jackson. Do you know how fucked up that is? Neither antidepressants nor the shit for my teeth is helping me and you wanna know why? Because apparently, it’s in my head. My body is hurting because my soul is hurting. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Jackson spilled some of his liquor, trying to make a point.

“Or let’s not forget about my love life, y/n. You wanna know what that’s like? You wanna know how much energy it took to portray myself as normal? I wanted you to think of me as strong and healthy and full of life but now you’re breaking up with me because that was, what, fake? I did all of this so you would never realize how broken, fragile, and weak I am. But I guess that wasn’t the right way to go about it either.”

Another layer of sadness washed over his face, tinting his brown eyes in even deeper despair. Jackson took a seat on the couch and hid behind his hands again, wondering why he told you all of this if you were already over him.

He flinched in surprise as he felt your arms around him, hugging him tightly. For once he just gave in and hugged you back, crying silently in your embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, Jacky”, you whispered sweetly into his ear. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

He looked at you surprised, so you explained yourself.

“I fell in love with you because you were a real one. Standing in your truth and being true to who you are. That’s how I have always perceived you, anyways. But then when we started dating, and I never got to know that side of yours. You were too perfect, in a way. And I don’t want perfect. I want real, Jacky.”

His thumb brushed along your cheek, tracing down to your jaw.

“How could you possibly want that?”, his hoarse voice croaked.

You chuckled in response.

“I’m not perfect, Jackson. And I don’t want to be. Don’t you think I get depressed from time to time? We can cry together then. And yes, the thing with your teeth sucks. But I will love you even if you get new ones. And besides that, my teeth don’t hurt but my head does. Often, I get insufferable migraines and have to lie in a pitch-black room, I flinch at light like Dracula himself. Do you think I like that? No, but we all have something. You make it sound like you have to be perfect to be loved. But you don’t.”

The newfound spark in his eyes was noticeable, if only for a quick moment.

“I agree with the people you’ve been seeing, though. Your soul is hurting, Jackson. And that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, looking at him hopeful.

“You don’t have to heal on your own though. I’d like to help�� if you let me?”

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aingeal98 · 10 months ago

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Thinking about how happy Cass was when Steph became Robin because while she did agree with Bruce that Steph shouldn't be out on the streets fighting and it caused their first breakup, her issue was never against Steph as a person. If anyone didn't have a high enough level of fighting skill Cass would not want them in danger. But Steph kept stubbornly improving anyways and even though she might still not have been quite as good as Cass's anxiety would like, Bruce made her Robin which means Bruce must have changed his mind and now trusted Steph's potential and seen the same thing in her that made him take in Tim even though Cass doesn't fully understand that part yet. And Cass trusts Bruce so that's enough. Steph is happy Cass is happy they can spend time together which Cass loves and they don't have to fight anymore!

And then Steph gets fired and Barbara snaps at Cass and the next time Cass sees Steph she's so confused because why is she back in Spoiler gear now? Steph is Robin!

And even though Steph is going through emotional hell right now I think she understood there, the difference between Bruce and Cass. The way she didn't see back when they first fought. It's why she thanks Cass for her friendship even though it wasn't always smooth sailing. Even though she does have a right to be hurt and angry with Cass from before. Unlike Bruce, Cass isn't messing with Steph, jerking her around and treating her awfully for being a girl. She genuinely likes Steph and wants Steph to succeed and be a part of her life. Unlike so many other characters, she isn't unfairly biased against Steph. (She can be a jerk but she's an equal opportunity jerk. She'd treat any fighter on Steph's level the same, unless they have Bruce's approval in which case she'd trust the process. Doesn't make it fully OK but I think it's a nuance Steph appreciates in this scene.)

But then. But then. The next time they see each other war has broken out and Cass once again needs to step in and rescue Steph and.

It's the last conversation they have before Steph dies. She doesn't know Cass spent hours looking for her even in the middle of such a large turf war. She doesn't know how distracted Cass got, how passionate she was towards finding Steph even when Batman told her they couldn't afford it. She dies thinking Cass, while not viewing her like Bruce or Alfred does, still doesn't see Steph as an equal in any way that matters. And she's right! Cass loves Steph. Cass loves Steph more than she's loved any non family member in her entire life. Which doesn't change the fact that Cass does not think Steph should be out fighting, and she can only consider Steph an equal comrade when she's wearing the Robin uniform. Cass doesn't trust Steph's insistence that she's good enough, but she trusts Bruce's judgement. And Bruce is an asshole to Steph. Constantly.

They deserved to hash this out when Steph came back from the dead. Steph deserved to know how much Cass cared for her and she deserved to say exactly how Cass hurt her, no matter how good her intentions were. Cass deserved to tell Steph everything about how deeply the loss hurt her. And they both deserved the opportunity to agree on a second chance, to earn each other's full trust for once.

Anyways I'm having stephcass feelings tonight and I swear one day I will end up in the dc writers room and do... Well I'll do something to fix this that's for sure

#dc #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batfam #dc rambles #stephcass

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mehiwilldoitlater · 10 months ago

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He gently caressed their scattered skin, dry for their living condition and from the mud that had been spattered on them while they were dragged to the sentences of the seven.

The imposter was finally captured, and now the day of their execution has come.

As they were taken to their pyre, the seven archons observed in disgust the blasphemy of the creature that dared to impersonate the actual creator. But three, among those who wanted to claim their heads, felt a heavy doubt about this call for blood.

The Hydro and Dendro Archons looked at each other, knowing that something in them was so off. And, just behind Lady Furina, the Ludex watched, in horror, the scene in front of him.

That wasn't justice. Justice was something that needed to be used in order to create peace—to judge and punish the ones that harm others lives, the ones that have to keep everything in check.

They dragged that poor, marturated body over the stage,their hands grasping some hair from their caged throats. Their jailers didn't lose the opportunity to shove their feet on their already broken ribs, causing them to cough and gasp. That wasn't justice.

Days prior, Neuvilette studied the case, searching for everything that could justify the looming execution against someone who had impersonated the creator. And his efforts took him to nothing; the accused was attacked on the spot, but there wasn't any activity from their part.

They never professed to be the creator; the persecution started without an actual felony.

And now there they were, the former dragon in front of the soon-to-be dead imposter.

Why did he feel his heart clench at the vision of that human in that sorry state? He was the great judge of Fontaine; he wasn't supposed to feel sadness against someone like them, and yet...

Without even knowing it, he moved in their direction. Some believed that he was ready to strike something, to hurt them more like everyone else. Instead, followed by the crowd falling into silence, he kneeled in front of them, watching the creator in their eyes.

There were no eyes to watch—just two burning holes. They once admired the beauty of that world.

His gloved fingers reached for their cheeks, meeting only a trembling and sobbing mess. They retreat, fearing another sharp blow.

"Please..."

His voice was calm and gentle, which surprised them. How lovely did someone actually use that tone with them?

They kept trembling, but they didn't retreat again when he had the courage to stroke their faces. Was that agonizing torture really necessary? The face of a god was enough to justify the horrors of what they did to that human. In all the years of his work, Neuvilette has never felt such agony for someone who clearly faces unnecessary violence.

Did the archer really enjoy this? Did they actually feel such happiness terrorizing and violating someone who was clearly at their limit? For the first time in a century, Neuvilette felt his blood boiling.

"Why did you impersonate a god? ...Did you want to fool them in order to gain power?"

There wasn't any evidence reported in the document; the witness never actually stated that they ever did something against their law. He had nothing; now he wanted to hear it out.

No words; just a small whine came out of their lips. They wanted to say something, but they were too weak to even talk. Neuvilette came closer, trying to understand something, anything.

"It hurt... It hurt so much. Please."

He didn't need any more words.

////

"Ummm... I wonder what kind of interesting new show you're going to put us through, my dear Ludex!"

Furina's voice was chirpier than ever, clearly infatuated by the outcome of the last week.

Neuvilette decided to ignore her small talk; he had more important matters to attend to.

"By the way, you said that the other day our new guest had... spilled gold from their bandages?"

"Yes, I think that happened. I think I saw a few traces back at the executor, but I never investigated anything about it."

"Ummm..."

Silence fell again in the office, and the two occupants now wondered the same question.

What now?

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #neuvillette #furina

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corvidae-00 · 6 months ago

Note

if your comfortable writing this, can i request joost with a reader who sh? he accidentally finds out by their sleeve accidentally sliding down or something (im on the brink of relapsing and i need angst with comfort 😭😭 not forcing tho lol, if ur uncomfortable writing this don't force yourself!!!)

A/n: I’m totally okay doing this! As someone who has fought this battle I totally get it and I hope you are okay Anon!! You have people who love you and you are so special in your own ways! Beautiful inside and out 🫶 I hope this helps and know you are never alone!! My DMs are always open honey

CW: SH, angst, sensitive topics, Joost being a sweetheart,

YOU ARE LOVED!! be safe everyone!

988 (suicide prevention)

It had been a pretty hot day in the Netherlands and your boyfriend Joost was set on taking you on a hike! Which would have been totally okay if you hadn’t just gone through a relapse… you don’t even know why it happened or what set you off, you cleaned them pretty well but they were still tender and you knew you couldn’t convince Joost to cancel the hike that he was so dead set on.

“Long sleeves, eh?” He blinks at you in suprise his owlish expression kinda funny “yeah! It’s a cute shirt!” You blow him off waving your hand dismissively and your boyfriend nods with a shrug “it is cute you got me there” he pinches your cheek before leaning down and giving you a big ol kiss on the cheek before peppering your face with them. The sunshine that your boyfriend is always makes you feel so free and warm. “Let’s go!! I want to get there before it gets packed!” He chirps taking your hand and pulling you out to the car after making sure you had enough water and packed the sun screen

After hiking for a few hours you and Joost found the most beautiful ledge looking over a beautiful river covered with pine trees and mountains as far as the eyes can see. “Wow” you mutter wiping your brow and fanning the neck of your shirt “that’s breathtaking” you mutter and Joost chuckles looking over at you “it is isn’t it? But the view infront of me is even better” he purrs and you look over at him blushing madly “don’t even with me” you laugh covering your face with your hands leading to Joost wrapping his arms around you in a big hug “let’s take a selfie!” He says tugging his phone out of his pocket “say cheese schat!” He puts the phone out in front of you two

As the sun gets closer and closer to setting the more you forget about your arms to busy listening to Joost tell you about random things he knows about the wilderness or just random facts he finds interesting. Without thinking you tug your sleeves up to your elbows to help the air circulate through your clothes and cool you off. Joost looks back at you mid laugh at a dumb thing he had brought to your attention about ducks “and then I learned that buffalo!-“ he stops taking a quick glance down at your revealed arms and pauses- and then you watch his face go through a few different emotions- landing on devastation “schat…” he mutters stepping towards you like you might run. Realizing your fatal mistake you can sense the color draining from your features

“Joost I-“ you try to come up with excuses or reasons but you come up empty “I’m-“ you stop feeling your boyfriend slowly pull you into his chest and wrap his arms delicately around you “why would you feel the need to hurt…” he questions searching for the words through his broken English “I don’t know…” you respond honestly not trying to move your arms or run away- just leaning into Joost like a life line “I’m so sorry-“ you start but joost shushes you softly shaking his head “don’t be sorry, you aren’t in trouble and you have nothing to be sorry for” joost says pulling away and gently bringing your arms up to his face kissing around the sounds careful not to irritate them or cause you pain “come to me next time my love” Joost mutters gently looking up at you “please allow me to help you” he pleads and you nod starting to tear up “okay..” you whisper and Joost straightens up and kisses you passionately “I love you with everything I am. I love you for any amount of time your head can come up with and more.” He confesses “and even more than that” he runs his fingers through your hair “I love you” he wipes away your tears and holds you close

When you two got home Joost had pulled you into bed and kissed you more times than you could count praising you and rubbing your back “you are beautiful. So beautiful” joost says softly between the two of you “beautiful”

A/N I hope you all know how loved you ALL are!!! I may not know everyone but I love everyone and no matter how hard your battle is never give up! You are all so strong!

Sorry if this seemed rushed or wasn’t that good…I’m on my phone and at work 😂 but I saw this request and knew I needed to get it out!!

I love you all!!!!!!

#joost klein #x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x you #joostice #joost klein fluff #joost klein x f! reader

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inkskinned · 2 years ago

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something that stuck with me once, way back in middle school when i was still learning how to write - my teacher said "writing shock and tragedy is easy, it's humor that's the hardest."

i have been up and down the halls of academia. i have the fancy degree and the experience in publishing. i think i paved most of my own road with the little bricks of sorrow i had stored inside of me. i know i did it mostly with works that are blisteringly lonely. i know why we write like that. it's lifesaving.

but yeah, i mean. i also know how much people think that "sad" media is the same thing as "good" media. our human desire to connect is so hard-pressed that we immediately latch onto any broken themes. the bullied kids and the tales of inspiration. people keep saying things like "glass onion" and "everything everywhere" weren't actually good. because, you know, they're. happy. or happy-ish. happy enough. and we only value art if it's grimdark-adjacent.

do you know - people still consistently whine at me that my writing would be so good if i just capitalized things. i used to flinch. i get kind of a weird, vindictive little rush these days - i get to say thank you for the comment! i have chronic pain and this is how i conserve my hands so i can write more during the day :) grammar isn't real anyway! and now they're trapped in the room with me, you know? i get to pull out my map and show them how grammar is not the same thing as good writing.

writers have this thing. we scratch at our insides, constantly, prying our lives apart into splinters. prying the splinters apart into atoms. when we combust something into poetry, we control it. it cannot hurt us if it exists outside of us rather than burning a hole through the bottom of our lungs. it's not a wonder to me that so much of what i make comes out like a death gasp. i spent a long time at the bottom. i keep going back, too. when you're down there for so long, the only thing you can exhale is fumes.

but humor is hard. humor needs timing; which i can't promise in a paragraph. i can kind-of force it through careful spacing, but i have no idea how fast you're reading these things. humor needs a somewhat awareness of your audience, when really - anybody could be looking. humor needs us to understand what the joke is, why it's a joke, and to think - ha! that is funny. in tragedy, everyone understands the metaphor of a kicked puppy. in humor, you need to introduce them to the concept of a dog.

and forget about positivity. forget about anything not made for adults explicitly. every time i see a well-made children's media piece, i feel fucking horrible for the creators. most of the time, people see children's media as being sort of "not worth" applause, even though i'm pretty sure they have to work twice as hard. i have no idea how hard it must be to not be able to have your character just say. "well, fuck." something about a message of peace or friendship or caring - for some reason, that makes the media not for adults. like, okay. i'm pretty sure my father actually, out of all of us, could use a good book on how to control his temper and talk about his feelings.

but whatever. i write a short story about my ocd, and how it's fucking killing me. it gets an award. it gets published. i write a short story about my ocd, and how i'm overcoming it, and how my days are getting lighter and starting to flourish. i keep getting ghosted. no response. it just is lacking... something.

is this it, forever? you can be an artist, okay. but the trade off is that the things you make - if they're happy? if they're joyful? people will say it's stupid and pandering. you bite your nails off. you file your teeth. you hear something inside of you breaking.

the other day in a writing group, someone i'd thought of as a friend said: "you write so much better these days! i love what you make when you'd rather be dead."

#i have no idea what this is about #writeblr #i think u might tho. if ur an artist. u might. idk

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mj0702 · 5 months ago

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For @tasha95 ... I hope it meets your expectations 😅 I got a little carried away 😅😅

“Bitsy I love you... I REALLY love you but this is ridiculous” Keira said one evening after training as you two were driving back to her home

“What?” you said absently as you looked up from your phone

“The situation between you and Ona” the blonde clarified

“There is no situation” you grumbled getting back on your phone

“There is... I don't know what happened and you know I'll never push you to tell me but I have eyes and the way Ona always looks over at you and you avoiding her like the pest is a dead give away that there is a situation” Keira said as she stopped at a red light

“There is no situation” you answered

“Bitsy” the blonde said softly

“I let a fan comment get the better of me and said some.. not so nice things” you mumbled

“What did the fan said that YOU of all people let it get to you?” Keira asked her hand finding your knee to calm you down

“They asked me if Lucy and Ona where a thing since Lstans wedding or before... you know.. back in Manchester” you mumbled getting even more ashamed

“Oh Bitsy... you started to overthink didn't you?” the blonde sighed

“Yeah... I called them hypocrites” you said looking down on your hands

“Why?” Keira asked confused

“Lucy was so upset about G and I and I really thought they started before....” you left the rest of the sentence open

“... you thought Lucy cheated on me with Ona?” Keira said confused and shocked

“Kinda... yeah” you mumbled

“And that would make Ona a hypocrite how?” the blonde started do push the answer out of you a little bit

“Don't know.... I was just so mad” you said honestly

“I DO understand where you're coming from Bits... and you know I'm always in your corner but you probably hurt Ona.. I know you didn't have it easy in the past but you need to suck it up and apologize” Keira said seriously her hand still on your knee squeezing it lightly

“I know.... I REALLY know... I just don't know HOW” you said your voice a little desperate

“Ona is very forgiving you know... pull her aside and apologize – a real honest apology and I can promise you she'll forget about it” the blonde smiled encouraging “... but you hurt her”

“I know... I feel very bad about it” you mumbled embarrassed

“Good.. you are an amazing person Bitsy – just show Ona” Keira smiled as she pulled into the driveway

That was one week ago. You still haven't apologized. Simply due to the fact that every time you talked some courage into yourself and you were on the way towards Ona to finally apologize someone called her, talked to her or swept her away for some media. So you retorted to you last resort which brought you to the current situation – slumped down against Lucys front door waiting for the familiar black Cupra to pull up. You were waiting now for two hours now and there was still no one in sight. Your phone nearly dead from all the texting with your girlfriend you were down to count the pedals of the roses in the small front yard. Finally there was a car coming down the street and you got some hope that it was Lucy but you soon realized that it wasn't. So you kept on waiting – you told Keira where you were so she wouldn't freak out but right now you wished for nothing more than someone familiar next to you. The sun began to set about 20 minutes ago and it started to get dark really quickly. You were tired – so so tired. Since you were back in Barcelona – and after you kind of worked through your trauma about your ACL and the realisation that you'll never ever play professional football again – you started to kick the ball around more often. Mostly with Mapí, Pina and Patri who never said a single word about how broken you looked. Even tho the three took it lightly with you it costed you a lot of Energy to keep up with them. The first time they saw you again when Lucy brought you back from Munich, your girlfriend right next to you not letting you out of her sight for a single second – they where shocked but never ever said a word about it and just accepted everything you were willing to give freely.

So you pulled the Barcelona Jacket you got from Alexia - in a small moment between the two of you – tighter around you and got a little more “comfortable” against the door. You didn't plan to fall asleep but eventually you did. That's how Lucy and Ona found you about one and a half hours later when they finally made their way home – having stopped for some dinner spontaneously on the way and then taking a little walk at the beach.

“Bubs? Hey Bubs” Lucy said softly and started to shake you lightly so she wouldn't startle you

“Hm??” you grunted lowly not really waking up

“Come on Bubs... it's getting cold here... let's get you inside” your sister said lovingly as she picked you up like you weight nothing

“Can't... need to wait for Ona.... need to pologize” you mumbled still three quarter asleep not realizing that Ona was right next to Lucy

“It's okay Bubs” Lucy mumbled into your hair holding you tightly against her while Ona unlocked the door “You can apologise tomorrow”

“No...” you whined as you drifted off to sleep again “... trying for a week now... always someone stealing her”

“She'll be right here when you wake up Bubs” your sister said as she carefully laid you down on “your” bed before leaving the room letting the door a small bit open so you wouldn't feel trapped if you'd wake up later

“She doesn't need to apologise” Ona said immediately as Lucy came back into the living room “I know she didn't mean it”

“She needs to... for her own sake... I saw how she tried the whole week to try and come over to talk to you” Lucy said as she opened a bottle of wine since they had a day off tomorrow

“When?” Ona asked confused not noticing how you struggled to find a way to talk to her “I kept an eye on her but every time I looked she was either deep in conversation or with the Trio of Trouble”

“Mhm...” your sister confirmed while passing a glass to her girlfriend “... and every time she looked over you were either in conversation or got stolen away for media – it drove me crazy to watch the two of you looking past each other for a week”

“Why didn't you say anything?” the spaniard said confused

“Not my place....” Lucy shrugged her shoulders “... that's something between her and you”

“Morning” you mumbled once you dragged yourself into the kitchen

“Bon dia Bebita” Ona said softly reaching you a cup of coffee

“I want to apologise” you mumbled lowly after you took a small sip of coffee

“No need Bebita...” the blonde started but you interrupted her immediately

“... yes need... what I did and say wasn't okay... not at all... Lucy and Keira always told me not to listen to fans or media... I don't know why this comment got to me the way it did.... maybe because Lucy was so... shitty about G and I... I don't know... but you had nothing to do with it... I'm sorry Ona... I'm sorry I pulled you into the shit I made up in my head” you said honestly but you couldn't bring yourself to look into her eyes

“Look at me...” Ona said firmly and you thought you really fucked up and your mind started to go a million miles an hour about how you just destroyed either the relationship between Lucy and Ona or even worse for you – the relationship between your sister and you

“... Bebita... I really appreciate your apology – I do...” the spaniard started softly “... but there is no need. I know how certain comments can hurt – especially if they're made to get a reaction out of you... and I followed some pages online and not one of them posted anything about Lucys and mine relationship other than the usual – so you didn't let that comment get to you until you were out of the situation and that's worth more than every apology... at least to me... you didn't comment on it you left and you didn't bring Lucy or I in a situation where we had to think about a plan to do “damage control”... you showed me that you accept me and our relationship... and that's the biggest gift you could give me”

#ona batlle x reader #woso image

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hitlikehammers · 9 months ago

Text

bring him home

rating: t ♥️ cw: Eddie in the Upside Down,; Steve on what he thinks is a retrieval mission for his body (it's not); Eddie Munson Lives; Kas!Eddie (ish) ♥️ tags: established relationship, secret pre-S4 relationship, post-S4, presumed dead (Eddie), mourning and heartbreak (Steve), happy ending (because Eddie is alive, ofc), soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-four: Love is the only thing we can take with us (@thefreakandthehair)

oh hey look, another day I didn't intend to write at all ♥️ but then @pearynice was intrigued by a stray half-baked idea and I struggle to not at least try to provide content in such instances ♥️

He’s only thought it since, since, but he’s actually kind of grateful no one knew. That no one could even have guessed. They’re on eggshells around him enough as it is, thinking it’s the loss, finally, that he couldn’t walk them back from, couldn’t recover them allfrom safe if not wholly sound. They think he’s dealing with survivor’s guilt or just the general blow of a failure so immense, maybe long overdue: and that’s probably part of it.

But only because it’s part of the bigger thing. The real loss.

They would have been together nearly ten fucking months, y’know; the better part of a whole goddamn year since that day at the mall, eyes catching and something just…clicking. Like the barest whisper breathing this could be something into the universe for them to catch if they wanted, and for all that’s still good in the world they both wanted, beyond any kind of logic they both fucking reached.

And Steve knows he’s worrying everyone, knows Joyce cooks for him because she’s sacred for him, knows Claudia bakes for the very same reason; he knows Robin’s gone back to biting her nails over him, and he hates that, he hates it but, like: Steve feels like he left his soul in that hellscape with the man he’d wrapped up in it; knows he left his heart there, because he gave it to that same man ages ago and never ever considered taking it back—and he’s kind of just a, a shell, now, and it’s good that they all think Steve’s just fucked up over the lost, over-inflated savior complex, Rob had muttered more than once and sure, fine—let them think that’s all it is.

It means he can plan without interference.

It means he can drive to the last oozing rift in the world with axes he found in the garage, a crowbar he grabbed at The War Zone—which he knows because he found a receipt, not because he can remember going, driving, paying; he fucking can’t—a fucking tire lift that he things is better suited to trucks than his Beemer but that’s why he needs it: he need to rip open the earth beneath his feet because maybe his heart died down there with the boy he loves in ways he didn’t know he could, not until he found those reserves of feeling inside him well up for the fact of him and maybe it’s too later for his heart, and maybe his soul’s locked in as a funeral shroud but godadmn it all—

Steve needs to bring Eddie’s body home.

Dropping through he fissure in the ground is second nature, like something calling him through the break and that feel right, because the Upside Down for what it is alone is somewhere Steve never wants to be, never wants to touch: but what it holds now what it stole from him and claimed and kept: Steve wants that back beside him, it doesn’t matter how. Cold, torn, broken, gone—Steve’s already those things himself. Now he’s just a raw nerve, but if that nerve could go numb, could freeze for so much pain, so much abuse and hurt. He feels more for the knowledge of how much things should destroy him; he thinks his body is more of an echo chamber, a void that moves but isn’t…there anymore.

Is here, because he left the best of him, the whole of him here, and he—it creaks in his knees when he hits the ground on the other side, shoots up his spine from the bones of him on contact; it should hurt, it should hurt but he can’t feel so much, and he needs to get his bearings, needs to orient, needs to figure where he is and the quickest way to Forest Hills, to where Eddie—

He can’t feel shit when he’s got a purpose, here: the first he’s had in weeks.

He moves to stand, gets to his feet at—

It’s unexpected, how much he feels the impact that knocks him back down, the weight that pushes him to the ground again and covers him, snarls at him, breathes hot and violent against his jaw, against his neck, and Steve—

Steve’ll die here, that’s clear from the hiss above him, the way he’s pinned like prey, like a meal, and the only thought he really has, in all honesty, is he’ll die here.

But he already died here, so it just feels kinda anticlimactic.

The panting against him keeps up, but it…it doesn’t go anywhere, it doesn’t become other, or more—there’s no teeth, no clawing or biting or ripping him apart, draining him dry. He doesn’t think he was afraid for any of it, exactly; his heart’s pounding but it feels distant, other and something far from him, disconnected: not a part of his shell-self, so he thinks that’s just ingrained, just an automatic response to a demo-something, probably, sizing up its meal but like, it’s not doing anything and Steve, Steve doesn’t…he’s not invested, exactly, he doesn’t even think he cares, but—

He squints his eyes open the barest crack where he’d instinctively squeezed them shut and he looks, expects the toothy petals, or even a veiny body; he looks and—

“Eddie?”

Oh, good. Heart, soul: may as well add losing his fucking mind to this place, too, third time’s a goddamn charm.

Because it’s not Eddie, it can’t be…it can’t be Eddie, and—

Not-Eddie leans into him, presses onto him full-bodied, hips to chest, thighs spread to hold him down like he’s going anywhere because, because…

Steve feels that. He feels the pressure, he feels pain where this body drags against scrapes in Steve’s skin, he feels his heart pounding, Jesus fucking Christ, that fucking hurts, but he looks at the face that’s looming over him, tipped to the side like it’s asking a question, like it’s considering Steve below, and it: the bones are sharper, the skin more pale, more drawn up tight and pulled—the eyes are red, bright like when the lighting cuts the sky, here, but everything else…

“Eddie, oh god,” Steve doesn’t want to question it, Steve doesn’t want to keep his mind if the alternative is moments with some version of Eddie whose breath he can feel again, it’s, he’s;

“Eds,” he chokes, and Eddie’s got him wholly pinned down, he can’t reach for Eddie’s face to cup it, to cradle it, so he lets his breath catch, his lungs hitch, lets the tears burn on their way from his eyes in streams as he twitches his fingers, stretches the tips to brush Eddie’s palm where he holds Steve down and—

Eddie stills, and his eyes narrow, and…

And if Steve has to die here, again: let it be at Eddie’s hands. Let it be maybe for Eddie’s…benefit, he’s wellbeing, however he survives here. Let it be for Eddie.

Always for Eddie.

But then Eddie: Eddie doesn’t let him up, still lean into Steve from the middle, but—he buries his head at Steve’s neck, and breathes in so deep, Steve gets to close his eyes and soak in the feeling of his chest rising into Steve’s own: strong.

Real.

“Known,” Eddie murmurs, shakes his head like he’s trying to shoo a fly, but then a shiver trembles through the whole of him, Steve can trace its trajectory where Eddie’s held against him, and then Eddie growls—it’s not a wholly new sound but it’s deeper, more animal in it than Steve’s ever heard and then he bites out through bared teeth: “Known.”

Then he draws back from Steve’s neck, studies him shrewdly, a little hesitant, like he’s unsure of whatever’s happening to him, in him: then he nods, chews at his lower lip in a painfully familiar move before his hands leave Steve’s wrists and he’s—

“Known.”

He’s tracing Steve’s cheekbones, the line of his jaw; he’s running his nose against the slope of Steve’s, he’s…it’s like he’s tracing him, and he does it so gentle, he almost like he anticipates it, he’s—

“Known,” and Eddie’s fucking…it’s not a growl this time but somehow whatever it is, is deeper, stronger, and he mouths at Steve’s neck again but instead of breathing him in, he’s sucking at the lines of his arteries down the sides, up and down, and then he follows the blood to the sounds, groans at a pitch Steve’s never heard before but it’s still, it’s sill Eddie, and—

“Hurt?” Eddie mouths at his chest through the layers of his clothes, sounds mournful, stills as he considers something, intent with it before his head pops up, those red eyes so wide and aching as his hands tap against Steve’s arms, frantic and—

Oh.

Oh; they’re tapping out Steve’s heartbeats to every racing clench-give echoing through his ribs and Eddie moans, almost wails, then—

“Hurt,” and he looks frantic, his eyes wild, and his mouth dropped open, bereft and seeking and oh, oh: Eddie thinks his heart’s pounding because he’s hurt, because he’s in pain and kinda, a little bit but not like that and—

“No,” Steve’s quick to try and soothe, even if his voice is barely a rasp; “no, no,” and his wrists are free to he reaches, covers Eddie’s hands and links their fingers together, feels something in him reanimate, come straight back into being just for that touch, and that it’s warm:

“Happy,” Steve gasps, and squeezes Eddie’s hands with force, with feeling; “happy, to see you,” and he closes his eyes in something like relief when Eddie’s mouth stills against his chest again; sighs when Eddie nuzzles there, like he always did, like he belongs because he always belongs.

“So fucking happy,” Steve breathes, and he feels weightless; wonders if he died. If he hit the ground and snapped his neck. If the impact was a monster and not the love of his life, somehow saved from ruin just to save Steve back in kind.

“Mine,” Eddie whispers, a little bit of a hiss for the feeling in it, the intensity sewn in as he mouths around the beat of Steve’s blood: that’s what he means. That’s his, that and everything it powers, everything it lends life.

His.

He pulls back, and Steve bites back a whimper for the loss before Eddie’s eyes find his and he looks…he looks lost, then, grasping, in need as he almost begs, like the answer is the end of all things:

“Mine?”

He lifts one of their joined hands—he doesn’t disentangle them, and fuck if Steve’s ever letting go—but he lifts them to Steve’s chest and holds there, presses down and looks pointedly at the way his palm covers Steve’s heart, looks up in askance, up and down, there and back over and again, more desperate every time and Steve tightens his fingers around Eddie’s and nods, just nods because his voice is gone, his throat’s too tight, he’s—

But Eddie sees it. Eddie understands because Eddie…

Eddie always understands what Steve can’t say.

“Mine,” he exhales like it’s the answer to the universe, like it’s proof of god and the devil, like it’s more than air to breathe and Steve’s…

Steve doesn’t even know what he is. Except: he’s alive.

He died before he left here last time, and now somehow he’s alive. “Known, s’known,” Eddie mutters, shakes his head slow and pins his gaze on different parts go Steve’s body, touches and looks up to Steve like it serves as confirmation just to meet his gaze, to watch him blink; “know, know,” and Eddie bends again, mouths at his chest and inhales sharp as he rips out, almost feral: “mine,” and then something in him gives, and he falls to Steve’s chest and Steve’s heart skips, the terror in him tangible, but he throws out his hands, lets Eddie’s grasp go to hold Eddie up and Eddie panting, gasping, something has to be wrong—

“St,” Eddie’s voice is sandpaper rough, but…but full somehow and Steve can’t name what it is, save that it makes him feel warm, from the inside, in a way he’d thought was gone forever. It prickles at his eyes and he doesn’t fight the tears:

“Ste,” Eddie coughs a little, and then he looks up, brow furrowed and muscles tight as he locks his eyes on Steve’s and grits out:

“Steve?”

And those eyes: those eyes meet Steve’s now—color in them, that depthless nightshade, drenched in that deep warm chocolate shade: Steve’s breath catches. His heartbeat skips again, but wholly different, and it looks, it feels like a weight’s been lifted; a spell’s been broken. And somehow, somehow even before anything shifted, somehow Eddie, his Eddie, he—

Whatever’s happened, whatever’s been done to him: somehow, deeper than any of it, he kept the love.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s voice shakes and he drops his weight again but this time when he presses against Steve it’s to wrap him close, to hold him a little clumsy, a whole lot desperate, and it…it feels like maybe Steve’s soul where it’s wrapped around Eddie? Like maybe he gets a little bit of it back; like maybe he can inhale and it could mean something again.

Eddie only draws back to tuck his head under Steve’s chin, to dip lower and put his lips to the center of Steve’s chest, to breathe there, like life into the heart of him again and fuck, but he feels it.

He kinda doesn’t need to know anything more, doesn’t need to have any more answers to know whatever this is, whatever Eddie needs: they’ll figure it out. Eddie’s lips are on his chest. His heart’s a mallet against Eddie’s mouth, beats up into the warm rush of his breath: there. Real.

Steve feels it.

also on ao3 🖤

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #established relationship #kas!eddie #established steddie #pre-S4 relationship #presumed dead #(but obviously NOT)#happy ending #steve mounts a one-man rescue/retrieval mission because he's heartbroken #eddie recognizes the love of his life because in light of everything he HELD ONTO THAT LOVE #steddielovemonth #love is the only thing we can take with us #stranger things

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restinslices · 6 months ago

Text

Everything pt4 (FINALE)

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 6772

Summary: It’s been years since you’ve spoken with your father, but with Kronos’ armies marching and the final battle approaching, you have one question on your mind. If you survived this, would it be too late to mend what was broken? Unbeknownst to you, Ares is wondering the same thing. Warnings: Spoilers for The Last Olympian (not too big though), giving Hestia a power idk if she has for the plot, angst, OOC Ares but y’all know this already

You know what sucks more than daddy issues?

The world ending.

Both are seriously draining but the world ending? It was a real bummer. Not only was it a bummer, but it was incredibly confusing. You expected to be actively in battle right now, not being made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by Luke's mom.

As shady as it sounded, you couldn't understand for the life of you how Hermes had fallen in love with her. She looked as if she had been electrocuted multiple times and the smile she wore reminded you of something you'd see in a horror movie. Looks aside, sandwiches and cookies were rotting in her house and it smelled like something had died. You couldn't see Hermes being here.

“Ms. Castellan” you began as nicely as possible. “I'm not Luke. My friends aren't either. This is Percy, Nico and I'm Y/N. We're…” the people that want Luke dead. No. You couldn't say that. “We're friends of Luke. That's all”. She seemed to understand what you said, even if her eyes told a different story.

“Friends… Friends? Friends with my precious boy…” you almost scoffed. “I'm so glad he has friends. I've always wanted to meet his friends”. She spoke like she was in a dream state and her eyes stayed on you, not blinking once. “You've come for a sleepover? I'd have to talk to your parents first. I need to know if you have allergies! Then your parents and I can also be friends and spend time together! I'm sure I'd like them”.

You forced yourself to keep smiling at her, even if she unknowingly brought up something you were trying desperately not to think about. In 2007 you and your father Ares came to an agreement that it'd be best if you never saw each other again. The year was 2009 and you were still keeping up your side of the deal. You didn't burn offerings for him, you didn't go see him for that field trip, you haven't even uttered his name since then. When you heard about the gods fighting Typhon, you tried not to think about him getting hurt.

You were the one that proposed the deal, yet you immediately regretted it. A part of you thought “good job! You're keeping your peace! Your relationship would've never gotten better anyway!”. The largest part of you kept thinking “but what if you were wrong? What if he changed?”.

You shook your head. Curse your stupid loyalty. You could've turned Nico and Percy down, but Percy pleaded with you to come with him. The last time you become someone's adoptive older sibling…

“Nah, you wouldn't like my dad Ms. Castellan. He's a real hardhead”. She chuckled, which looked insanely creepy because she still hadn't blinked.

“Men tend to be. I'm sure he's still very lovely”. Yeah, if you enjoyed headaches.

Nico took over the conversation and thankfully your familial issues were no longer a topic. Thankfully should be in quotations though, because the conversation quickly turned depressing. May Castellan spoke like she was floating and talked about her son and Hermes as if the last couple of years hadn't happened at all. In your heart, you knew that she either didn't know, or she forgot. You didn't know what happened to her and why she looked like she took a tumble in Wonderland and never escaped, but whatever happened caused her to never see reality the same. You pitied her. Poor woman. Forever making sandwiches for a boy that had grown into a man. An angel that snipped his own wings.

Suddenly she stopped and screamed. You all jumped up and you pushed the two boys behind you. You doubted May Castellan would try to fight any of you, but you wouldn't take that chance.

A glowing green filled her vision and she rasped “My child! Must protect him! Hermes! Help! Not my child! Not his fate! No!”. She grabbed at your shoulders and continued screaming about fates and you pushed her off.

“Guys! Let's get out of here!” You yelled to the boys behind you.

You were prepared to run out of there, but May collapsed and Percy ran to catch her before she could hit the floor.

As quickly as she was screaming about fate and her eyes were glowing, it all stopped. She went back to her version of normal.

“Normal” was a word that really sucked as a demigod because your version of normal would never be what you wanted. What you wished was normal for you was going to school, complaining about teachers, listening to music and playing video games. Your normal was fighting monsters, training, keeping the world from ending and nightmares. When other people's lives diverged from the norm, it was probably something small, like dyeing their hair a neon color. Your version of “well this doesn't always happen” was sitting across from Hestia and listening to her do that thing gods do, where they give you advice in riddles.

The conversation was mainly on Percy, until it wasn’t anymore. Hestia looked over at you and you couldn’t help but feel small under her gaze (which was comical considering she looked like an 8 year old girl), like she was peering deep into your soul in search of something.

In any other circumstance, you would’ve stayed silent. You didn’t have time for more mysteries right now, so you cleared your throat and said “my lady, is there something you want to say?”.

“I just wonder…”

”Wonder? About what? Please, I wanna hear it”

“I wonder whose side you’re on”.

What?

Your brows furrowed. “The gods obviously”.

”Is it obvious though?”. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Making an enemy out of Hestia wasn’t on your to do list.

”My lady, may I speak bluntly?”. She nodded. You really wished she didn’t choose the form of a child so you wouldn’t feel so silly. “The world is ending and there’s still so much I haven’t done. I’m stressed out, wondering if I’ll survive the battle-” if your father would care if you didn’t, “-if our efforts will be enough, how many mortals will die, if the gods survive their battle with Typhon. Please don’t add ‘not understanding a riddle’ to my stress. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it”. You could feel Nico shooting you a ‘are you crazy?’ look. How else were you supposed to say it? You thought you were being extremely kind and respectful. The alternative was “English please”.

Hestia looked you over as she thought. “I’ve heard about your conversations with your father”. Yeah sure, let’s bring that up again. Perfect!

You shifted uneasily, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Hestia either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I wonder why you didn’t side with Kronos”.

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. Did she truly think so little of you? “Why would I side with him?”.

”Many of the demigods on his side feel neglected. No doubt you do as well. I wonder what’s the difference between you and them”

“Brains” you answered. “We all have parental issues. You don’t side with a guy like Kronos”

”You think little of those demigods? Think yourself above them?”

“You know what I did when I was angry with Ares?” His name felt strange on your tongue. It’d been so long since you said his name. “I gave myself terrible bangs and wore all black. I stared outside car windows, listened to sad music and imagined myself in a music video. I wrote in a diary that said ‘do not touch or I’ll kill you!’, all in uppercase letters. I didn’t side with a crazy Titan that wants to destroy the world as we know it. Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?”. She nodded.

“My lady I mean this with respect and love in my heart; what is the point of this conversation?”.

She poked at the fire a bit before answering. “This battle will be a hard one. Perhaps I am buying time and trying to memorize your face in case something goes wrong”. Gee, thanks for all the hope lady.

”If something goes wrong for me, I at least hope everyone else gets a happy ending”

”Your death does not frighten you?” She asked with a raised brow.

”Of course it does” you answered truthfully. “But I can’t let fear stop me from doing what I know is right. You’re the goddess of the home, so you should understand when I say I fight for my home. I don’t think home is just a place though. Home can be people. Percy, Annabeth,

Grover, Nico…” you swallowed, “… my dad. They’re my home. I won’t let my home be hurt without a fight. I’m willing to fight, kill, and die for my home. That’s how much home means to me”.

She smiled. “Spoken like a true child of Ares”. You wish she’d just tell you why she was hassling you in simple words. “But homes can be hectic-“

”My relationship with Ares is hectic but it doesn’t matter”

”You have hope”

”Sounds more like a statement than a question” you mumbled.

You looked at the fire, not wanting to look at (what appeared to be) the child on your ass.

When looking at the flames, for whatever reason you thought of home.

Images flashed in your mind. Images of camp, of laughing campers, of you and Percy giving Sally multiple heart attacks.

Of you and Annabeth debating, you and Grover planting flowers, you and Clarisse training together.

Images of your life flashed quickly, yet it all made sense. You could see everything as if you were there again.

Then the images slowed.

You felt Ares arms as he caught you when you fell from multiple floors up in the mall.

You could smell burgers and fries in the diner and saw him sitting across from you.

You could hear the two of you arguing and your ears started to burn with rage when you suddenly felt his warm embrace. You leaned into him and sighed, feeling his beard against the top of your head. You probably looked ridiculous to everyone else in the diner, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt his warmth and you knew you never would again.

“I love you dad” you said.

You couldn’t believe what you heard next. He said “I love you too” and he genuinely sounded like he meant it. At the time, you thought there was no possible way he could’ve been being genuine.

“He’s gotten good at lying” you thought. “That’s all. He doesn’t care. You’re making things up”.

But what if you were wrong? What if there was a chance?

”I have to have hope” you said out loud. You were too busy looking at memories in the fire and missed Hestia’s satisfied smile.

Hope.

Home.

If you were still alive by the end of the war, you knew you’d have to break your end of the agreement.

You knew you had to go home.

***

Everyone knew war was coming.

The hope for everyone else was that Kronos would never get strong enough to challenge the gods. Hope wasn’t something you could depend on though. You had to actually work, and apparently the gods hadn't done enough.

All the gods, besides one, was nervous. Of course Ares was more excited than nervous, like a child in a candy store. If he had the power to control time, he’d speed this whole thing up so he could be in battle already. The anticipation was killing him.

It was so grim and depressing in Olympus. Everyone was on edge and acting as if this would be their last time seeing each other. Complete and utter bullshit. They were the 12 Olympians for fucks sake! Anyone else there was there for a reason. They’d beat Kronos and his army, then drink to their victory and hug their children.

Hug their children?

“Stop”, he thought. “Not that shit again”.

He didn’t wanna think about children.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and made his way to a nearby fireplace.

”Ares” Hestia greeted without having to look at him.

“Hestia” he greeted back and sat down next to her on the ground. “Poking at the fire again?”

“What else is there to do?”

“You could be preparing for the battle”. She made a noise of disapproval,

“You know I'm not one for fighting. I am where home is”. He couldn't say he understood it, but whatever kept her happy. Ares wasn't fond of all the gods, but he liked Hestia. She stayed to herself and overall was friendly with everyone. She didn't blab her mouth or make jokes about him and Aphrodite being caught by Hephaestus. She was a breath of fresh air honestly.

Hestia looked over at him and cocked her head to the side. “No” he said before she could get anything out, “don't start asking me questions about feelings and try to dissect me”. Hestia was nice and all, but she always noticed when someone was off, and even if they weren't she'd find a way to make a conversation more deep than it needed to be.

“Ares, the battle ahead will be a difficult one. There's a possibility that you could be destroyed or that your children-”

“Don't”. His voice came out harsh and he shot her a warning look. Unfortunately for him, Hestia was never intimidated by that.

“They can die. Do you think they're keeping their feelings bottled? I doubt it. I hear them whisper their fears around the campfire at camp. They're terrified Ares.”

“How many are terrified?”

“All of them”.

He wished he didn't ask. He should've stayed curious.

Hestia was right. Any of his children could die. Maybe all of them. They all probably whispered to each other in their cabin, trying to comfort each other, and what was he doing? Sitting in Olympus.

He hated that he cared. Ever since his last talk with a particular child, he had been trying to build those walls back up and go back to being his “normal” self. Unfortunately, those cracks seemed to remain and refused to go away. He tried to seal them, but even something as small as a talk with Hestia revealed those cracks again. “They'll be ok” he said although he knew the truth. The truth was that he had no idea what would happen.

“I could deliver a message to them if you'd like”

“There's nothing I can think to say to them”

“Then perhaps you could say something to me. Whatever is on your mind, you can speak and I will listen”.

Ares didn't wanna look at her so instead he looked at the fire in an attempt to ignore her. That proved to be an error when his nose filled with the familiar smell of rain and his ears filled his child's voice.

“To me… to me you were everything. You are everything. “. Your tears mixed in with the rain and you wore a deep frown full of a child's repeated crushed dreams. His heart squeezed tightly for the first time in a while and he hated it. That's when it all started.

Other memories flashed. Memories of him and the other Olympians fighting wars, sometimes with each other.

He saw a time before strict rules and before he vowed to keep himself distant from his children. A time when he mourned them fully and intensely when their final breath passed their lips and their bodies became limp.

He saw the time now and while it was full of distance and misery, he saw his other children. He saw them visiting him and talking about things he didn't care about but listened to anyway. Saw their sad faces and hung heads when they had to leave.

It all went back to you though.

“You want more from the child of Ares?!” You had puffed your chest when you said his name and held your sword tighter. “I have plenty to give!”.

He heard your back and forth snarky comments to each other before the smell of food filled his nose and the conversation went from humorous to angry then sad.

“I don't matter to you. Just admit it so we can move on”. You were so wrong but you said the words with such conviction. You genuinely thought you were right. Was that truly how neglectful he had become? All his children had become strangers and he couldn't blame anyone but himself.

“Seeing you at all, it gives me hope” Was hope so bad to have though?

“You want this?”

“No” you said immediately. He remembers how he was surprised you had been that honest with him. He thought you'd make up a lie and pretend to be extremely confident, but your voice cracked and this time there was no rain to hide your tears. If earlier you wore a frown of repeated crushed dreams, that day your eyes filled with a child's final dream crushed.

But then he felt the both of you hug and he couldn't help but think to himself “Does the dream have to be crushed? Does hope have to be lost?”.

The fire continued to show him more memories of his children before it went back to you purposefully ignoring him. He had to admit that seeing you spend time with Hermes instead of him made his brows lower in frustration. But he agreed to a deal.

“Ares?” Hestia questioned. Ares kept staring at the fire and hoped the images would return, but they slowly faded away. She said his name again. She had saw what he saw and felt the way his heart cried. It was a feeling she never wanted to experience again.

He agreed to that deal… but what would happen to him if he broke it? Nothing that hasn't happened before. How could he see all of that and still want to keep his side of the deal?

“I think…” he whispered “I think I miss my children…”.

His children. His family. His home. He had to believe that hope was possible.

Hope.

Home.

He'd fight with his all while keeping everyone in the back of his mind. He knew he'd have to break his end of the deal.

He knew he had to go home.

***

If someone were to ask how you felt in this exact moment, it'd be irritation. Because of some stupid disagreement between the Ares kids and the Apollo kids, Clarisse ordered that none of Ares' children were to attend the battle. When you reminded Clarisse that this battle was bigger than some stupid argument over a chariot and that campers have already died and more will, she simply puffed her chest and went on about how she's tired of Ares getting disrespected. Sure, ok. Maybe you got a point Clarisse. Couldn't this wait until after though?

You shared some harsh words, half of them being curse words, and joined the battle with everyone else.

Manhattan as a whole was trapped in a deep sleep, yet somehow they seemed like the lucky ones. Sure, maybe a monster would step on them but at least they'd die in their sleep. If you died you'd be fully conscious and you knew it'd hurt.

Only a fool feels no fear. A bigger fool lets fear paralyze them. You did your best to let your fear move you through your enemies and you cut and hacked at them, leaving a trail of dust in your wake. You tried at first to ignore how many old campers you were killing, but it was hard to when your sword was soaked and you stared in the eyes of people you used to call friends before you took their life. It didn't feel good but it was either you or them. None of them held their punches and those same kids came in camp and killed campers, so you wouldn't hold your punches either.

A squeal filled your ears and you winced as you looked up. The fighting stopped and you understood why when you saw a huge flying pig heading straight towards everyone. You scoffed and wanted to make some sort of joke, but figured now wasn't the time.

“As far as I know, no hero has ever beaten it” you heard Annabeth say when you got closer to her and Percy. Your heart beat in a skittish panic but you forced yourself to hold your sword firmly and say the words “we will” as serious and brave as you could muster.

Percy had some idea and while you were told to keep the enemies back, your eyes landed on a white Pegasus and you knew you couldn't.

“Hey Annabeth” you grabbed her arm, making sure not to grab too tight because of her previous wound.

“Yeah?” she asked. Annabeth looked terrible. She was covered in dirt, dust, blood, and her hair was so out of place that you thought May Castellan would take kindly to her. You didn't know how you looked but you knew that all of you would need showers if you survived.

“I love you too”

No. When you survived.

“I'm gonna try and help Percy. Stay here. I'll come back. I promise”. Before she could ask you what you meant or remind you that you couldn't promise such a thing, you ran off to the Pegasus.

“Hey buddy” you waved and forced a smile. You knew Percy could understand them and vice versa, but you couldn't understand them and you didn't know if that could understand you. “Me” you pointed at yourself, “friendly” you raised a thumbs up. You pet its head and it didn't bite you, so you assumed it understood.

“Me” you pointed at yourself. “You” you pointed at the Pegasus. “Follow Percy and pig” you pointed at Percy and the pig, who were quickly vanishing from view. It nodded its head and after a sigh of relief, you got on its back.

If it wasn't for the war and death, you'd say you were really enjoying this. How many people could say they had done something like this? Not many, that's for sure.

“Hey Sharkboy!” You yelled when you were within shouting distance. Percy thankfully was no longer hanging by a rope, but was on Blackjack. You didn't know if Blackjack recognized you as the one always giving him donuts, but he made a pleased sound when he saw you. “Uh, is this a part of your plan?” You motioned to the statue that took his place attached to the rope. “It's a pretty shit one”.

The boy rolled his eyes and huffed at you. Whether it was because of the nickname or insulting his plan, you didn't know. It made you smile either way. “I gotta get close to it! I can activate the statue to fight the pig!”.

Flying pigs, fighting statues, just another day as a demigod. You rubbed in between your brows to stop the migraine that was forming. How hadn't you gone insane yet?

“It sounds crazy but-” Percy kept talking but you stopped listening. You looked behind you at the battle and like a fool, you froze.

Manhattan was a war zone. This you knew. Seeing it up high like you were a god though made it all seem so much worse. You could see family being forced to fight each other. You could hear screams and pleads and crying. You could see kids trying to dodge being stepped on. You saw so many people not being allowed to mourn. You saw death. You saw it everywhere.

Then your shock and fear turned to anger. These were your friends and family killing each other! Sure, they were still responsible for their actions, but there wouldn't be any actions for them to take if Kronos hadn't got in the way. He used these people and he didn't care how many died. He just wanted his throne. Annabeth could die. Grover could die. Percy could die.

Your father could be destroyed.

You didn't know how you looked, but you must've looked terrifying because Percy “talks back to everyone” Jackson looked at you the way you expected him to look at the gods; with edge.

“Hey-”

You pet the animal under you neck and pointed at the pig “closer!” You ordered. It obeyed. It beat its wings harder and you passed Blackjack and Percy with ease. The closer you got, the more you could smell its stench. Under normal circumstances you'd pinch your nose and walk the opposite way, but this time you kept going straight towards it.

The animal under you whined and you assumed that meant it was having a hard time keeping up. Your eyes fell to the rope and you knew what you had to do.

Your sword morphed back into a necklace when you brought it close to you and after so much practice, clasping it wasn't a problem for you anymore.

“Good boy or girl. I'll get you some snacks when this is all over. You like donuts?” it made a pleased sound and you pet its neck.

You moved so that instead of straddling the animal, your legs were hanging over one side.

“Don't let me die” you whispered to no one in particular then you pushed yourself off.

A mixture of luck and skill prevented you from becoming a mark on the concrete.

The rope burned your bare hands but you held on anyway. You managed to grab on above the statue and started climbing upwards, using the beating in your chest to motivate you not to fall and die. The white Pegasus stayed beside you as you forced yourself up the rope and you gripped the pig's fur to pull yourself all the way up. Now, pigs don't have tons of fur, but a giant pig had plenty enough to grab onto.

The wind blew through your hair so harshly that you were surprised it didn't snatch it all off. The pig was flying at an intense speed with its only goal being to destroy everything you loved.

You pulled your necklace off and it turned back into the double edged sword your father gifted you so many years ago.

It was only now that you realized something.

When you killed this thing, it'd disintegrate. You wouldn't. In the mall you were high up but you were only up a couple floors. Now you were definitely above the mall and many other buildings. The white Pegasus was no longer keeping up with you and when you looked behind you, Percy and Blackjack were still a while away.

Percy connected the dots a lot faster than you did and you saw his lips move and Blackjack's wings flap faster.

What do you say when you know you're gonna die? Damn. You didn't have time to prepare and you didn't have time for a speech.

You felt like you were looking back at the flames. At home. At hope. You were supposed to return home after the battle and things would be okay again. But in the same breath, this is why you were fighting. You were fighting for your home and so the people you love could live as peacefully as they could.

The sword felt heavier in your hand. You smiled to yourself. You still had a piece of home with you and you'd use it to better the lives of the other people you call home.

You screamed as loud as you could in hopes Percy would hear you. “IF EVERYTHING GOES OKAY, TELL MY DAD THAT…” tell him what? You had so much to say. What could wrap everything you wanted to say together?

“... TELL HIM I MISS HIM! AND THAT I LOVE HIM!”.

Blackjack's wings beat harder, yet he was still far. Percy wore a look of determination and you laughed. You couldn't believe he was still the young scared boy that arrived at camp when he was 12.

“I LOVE YOU GUYS TOO!”. You smiled at him to leave him with something nice to remember. “THIS WAS FUN!”.

You turned away from him and with as much strength as you could muster you plunged the sword through the pig’s skin.

You felt its body crumble away and then you felt yourself slipping through the air.

***

As one could assume, war was Ares' element and where he felt the most comfortable. There wasn't much to say about the battle. Sure, it was a battle for humanity but honestly? Ares wasn't that worried. Call it an inflated sense of self. Was it really that though when you could back up how high you thought of yourself?

As corny as it sounded, the war in his mind was much more intense. As he fought, his mind kept slipping back to what he saw in the flames. His family. His children. His home. His hope. The reason he fought. Sure he liked a good fight but he fought this giant monster with the other Olympians for his family.

Ares is a proud man, so naturally he had faith that his children would survive the battle, but an ego could only get you so far. He knew the truth. He knew that any of his children could be crushed at any second, or squeezed to death, or stabbed, or eaten, or whatever Kronos and his army had planned. He knew that he could return to whatever was left of Olympus and he could mourn children that he had forced to become strangers. He wanted to be better. He had to be. He just needed time and that meant he needed his children alive. Especially the one that started this.

Besides the diner, Ares had only held you once. He didn't think he'd remember it well yet somehow he could smell the cookies your mother had baked and he could remember exactly how the furniture was. He could see blinds covering the windows and the white walls lined with family photos and art pieces. He could see the black couch that sat across from the TV which sat on a table.

And he could feel your mother place you in his arms.

“This is your child” she had said. He looked over at her and she smiled down at you with a sense of joy and pride, which was much different to how he saw her look at you recently, with hate and contempt.

You were so small then. Only months old, still exploring the world and having no idea how life would beat you down. You cooed as you looked up at him and shifted in his arms. He wondered if somehow you knew he was your father and that he was no threat to you.

So small. So curious. So innocent. Now you were a warrior seasoned by the battles you had been fighting since you were a small child.

He kept thinking about what would happen next the entire time. He knew he'd have to break his end of the agreement, but it was up to you and any of his other children to accept him turning a new page. It absolutely did NOT frighten him more than the Titan he was battling. Absolutely not.

As Ares suspected, the Olympians and their children won the war. Kronos was gone and his armies were slaughtered. That was the best part. He didn't get the chance to have a good look at the battle, but seeing the damage the demigods caused made him proud. He hadn't seen you though, which was something he noted.

The worst part was looking at Percy Jackson's face. Sure, he started the fight but that didn't matter! When Ares said “enemy for life” he meant it! The fact that he had to listen to Percy be praised and he couldn't beat on him right then and there made him tap his finger against the arm of his chair in discontent.

“Lord Ares” Percy said and he could tell he hated saying the “Lord” part. It made him grin.

“Boy?”

Percy's fist balled and Ares continued smirking.

“I have a message from your child”.

His smirk fell when he heard your name. A message? Did that mean…

“They said that they missed you and loved you. They were… They…” he paused and Ares leaned forward. “They were in trouble and out of everything they could've said, they said that. They’re-”

Ares didn't let him finish. He jumped out his chair and his feet thundered against the ground as he sped walked to the elevator.

This couldn't be. That boy was wrong. His child was fine! He wanted to be better for them and now…?

No. No no no no! This couldn't be! He pressed the floor button repeatedly hoping that the elevator would move faster, even if he knew that's not how elevators worked.

He lied to you once and said that gods didn't feel fear. How wrong he was. His whole body felt warm and if he wasn't pressing the button then he was tapping his fingers against his legs and if he wasn't doing that then he was pacing and if he wasn't doing that then he was imagining your limp body covered in blood. Was it at least quick?

“I love you dad”

No…

Not his baby…

After what felt like hours the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

He stepped into the hall of the building.

***

Turns out you should give Blackjack a lot more credit.

You closed your eyes and hoped that the fall wouldn't hurt as much as you suspected it would and then suddenly your crotch hit something hard.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed. Your eyes flew open and that's when you realized Blackjack actually managed to catch you. Percy let out a breath you suspected he was holding the whole time.

“You don't ever do that again!” he scolded. Ironic coming from the guy who always did stupid things.

“I hope I won't have to”. He rolled his eyes and looked back ahead of him.

“I just knew you were gonna do something stupid. I just couldn't tell what it was at first. And don't you ever look at me like that again”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kill something”. Once again, ironic. Percy had that same look on his face more times than you could count, but instead of arguing you kept a hand on his shoulder and said “sure Sharkboy”.

You tried to tune out the rest of the battle to keep yourself sane. One moment you and Percy joined everyone else, then Percy and Annabeth went to Olympus and now you were sitting in the Empire State building completely exhausted. You were slumped in a chair, covered in dirt and grime when the Stoll brothers came over.

“Guess what we have” Connor said in a sing song voice and raised his brows.

“An Advil?”. The two laughed like what you said was funny. It wasn't funny to you. Your head was killing you.

“Even better” Travis said. “Boom!”. You hadn't noticed the bag he had on him somehow, and when he opened it your eyes were filled with candy. You looked back up at their faces, both with an ear to ear smile.

“I thought Percy said not to snatch anything when everyone was asleep”.

“We didn't! How could you say something like that?” The two looked at each other with faux innocence but their devious smiles betrayed them. Whatever. You were too tired to scold them and it wasn't your business that got ransacked.

“Listen, we'd typically charge for these but since you killed that pig, you can get something for free”

You raised a brow at them and looked at them disinterested. “Or I could report you and make you take all that back”

“You won't” Travis challenged.

Little shit was right.

You looked in the bag for what you wanted and chuckled when you saw it.

When you and Ares talked in the rain that night, you debated on burning a fruit roll up as an offering. You decided that was a shit offering and didn't do it, but your father saw you in the rain and came over anyway.

Now that same flavor of fruit roll up was sitting at the top of all of that candy.

You took it and thanked the two. They were on their way after, probably about to scam some poor kid by overcharging it. They never tried that with you or any of the other older kids.

You pocketed the candy and used your sword to help you stand. You were exhausted. Your shoulders sagged, your back ached and you smelled like everything unfortunate in the world. You needed a shower and new clothes desperately.

You began walking then a ding filled your ears and out of curiosity you turned from the door and looked over.

It was him.

By the way his eyes softened you could tell he saw you. You were done lying to yourself and convincing yourself he didn't care. You knew you saw relief in his eyes.

Maybe Ares should've listened to what else Percy was gonna say. Maybe he was gonna say “they're fine but you should really talk to them”. Something like that.

Ares had seen you tear up multiple times. In sadness, in anger, in betrayal. This time though? You didn't look hurt. You looked relieved. You looked like how he felt. You looked like a huge pain had been lifted off your shoulders. If before you looked like a child whose dreams were crushed, now you looked like an adult who realized there was nothing crushed that couldn't be fixed.

You had grown up more since he last saw you. He didn't wanna miss any more years.

“And I hope the idea of me calling you Ares instead of dad terrifies you”

The words rang in his ears. You were right. It terrified him. It paralyzed him. He had one question on his mind.

What would you call him?

The two of you stood facing each other for seconds but it felt longer. Both your minds were racing. You were both thinking of the past, the fact that both of you were okay, and wondering what the future would be.

You felt like a kid again. You just stared at him with so many emotions coursing through you. The main ones being joy and relief.

Without thinking, you threw your sword to the side and ran at him. “Daddy!” You shouted with the inner voice of a child who was finally getting everything they wanted. You jumped into his arms and he caught you. His grasp was firm and he kept you close.

You both closed your eyes and focused on each other's warm embrace. You were both okay. You were both home. Neither of you held your tears and vulnerabilities from each other.

“I heard you were missing me” he said. You knew it was a joke but you couldn't laugh. You nodded into his shoulder.

“I did”.

“I missed you too” he admitted. It felt so good to finally admit.

It felt so good to finally hear. He missed you. He cared for you. He loved you. He was holding you.

“I don't like our agreement anymore” you mumbled. “You gonna rearrange my fingers or-”

“No” he answered firmly. He set you down and his hands held your face. “No” he said again.

“Not gonna turn me into an ant either?” You joked. He smiled at you and pulled you into another hug.

“I love you dad”

“I love you too”.

Ares did something he hadn't done in a while and he kissed the top of your head like he saw other fathers do. It surprised him how much happiness it filled him with. You on the other hand thought this would only happen in dreams. You were so glad you were wrong.

Then he did something else he hadn't done in a while.

He apologized.

“I'm sorry”

“I know” you answered simply.

“I'm gonna be better”.

You smiled and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt in his embrace.

“I believe you”.

Hope.

Home.

You two managed to hold onto hope. What others would call delusional or stupid, you called a dream. You both managed to make that dream a reality.

After years and years of complications, heartache and frustration, you two made it.

You two made it home.

If y’all sexualize the reader calling Ares “daddy” I swear I will rewrite this and have the reader die a terrible death. Do NOT-

Anyway y’all IT’S HERE! We finally made it to the end! Y’all feeling as proud and emotional as I do? Originally Everything wasn’t gonna be a series. I made pt1 and was like “yeah. A simple one shot” but people wanted more and it became a series. I got 2 abandoned series for different fandoms so it’s an accomplishment I finished this one. I don’t have any new series planned right now but I wanted to say thank you for the support Everything has gotten and the nice comments I’ve received. This was really fun. Until next time! (Also I told y’all they’d get a happy ending. I know some of y’all didn’t believe me)

Taglist: @kyuupidwrites @chadmeeksmartinswifey @lebguardians @beansficreblogs @itzjustj-1000 @white-wolf-buckaroo @elsisenta @leathesimp @marshymallo @stickyfictioninwriting @asexualaromosafezone @arialikestea @1mawh0re @samoanroyalty @wolfgirl294 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ohlookitsasinglepoeceofpopcorn

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackson ares #pjo tv show #ares pjo #ares x reader #ares x child #ares angst #ares percy jackson #pjo angst #pjo x reader #pjo olympians #I never know what else to put

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