#i’m sorry i didn’t feel comfortable using a family photo

[lewistoferrari]

Hello, my name is Jessica. I am a single mother asking for financial help.

Our savings were depleted due to an unexpected auto accident, leaving us struggling to make ends meet. Through no fault of our own the other parties insurance refused to pay for the damage to our only working vehicle. Without reliable transportation I risked losing my job and made the decision to empty my savings to fix the car on my own.

Despite working consistently we are now severely behind on rent and bills, often having to make sacrifices to stay afloat, like paying for groceries over being in good rental standing. Our current apartment has denied us the ability to renew our lease and we desperately need help in catching up on the past due rent and covering the expenses for moving. This situation has been incredibly stressful as a single mother with a very limited support system, so any support big or small would be so very appreciated. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering helping in our time of need or even taking the time to view or share our gofundme.

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Swipe (Lucifer morningstar x reader)

Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)

Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-

Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6

I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-

Part 1 of 3

Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying, Lucifer straight up cat fishing reader,

No one’s POV

Lucifer was a wreck after his divorce with Lilith. Becoming the shell of the man he was, going from a family-oriented to a man who barely talk to anyone. After visiting his daughter and her hotel, he knew he had to be there, he already missed so much he wasn’t gonna miss another second of it. Becoming the best father he could also meant moving on, it’s been seven years since the separation. Charlie knew her Dad had been in pain since the divorce but she could tell, he was trying and she was going to be there.

Lucifer’s POV

“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.

Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“

“Charlie!”

We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 

I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.

Lucifer..

Luci…

Luc…

Luca..

Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.

Y/N POV

Left..Left..Left..

God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…

…Right.

“CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” Popped up on my screen in red shades, with the little duck icon. “…that was quick” I think to myself. I click on the little message option.

Y/N - Hi :)

No ones POV

Lucifer layed there looking at the profiles, this was dating. More like brothel. He could barely understand, after swiping left a few times he chose to just turn off his phone, it was a mistake to think an app could help. Almost as soon as Lucifer sat his phone down his phone went off, illuminating the room …then it went off again.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow picking up his phone to see two notifications, both from Viva. Seeing a match with someone named Y/N and a message from them. Lucifer felt himself lose the ability to breathe, “A match?” Lucifer asked himself, confused on what that meant, he open the Add to be greeted my the words “CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” And the icon that belong to Y/N.

The icon was a photo of Y/N. Lucifer’s eyes lit up and he finally let out a breath. He admired their features. Their H/C H/L that looked perfect, their E/C eyes drew him in. He clicked the image see their profile, he was greeted my a normal photo of you, it stood out. Lucifer saw the message illuminating in corner of the screen, he let out a breath and opened the message and saw a simple

Y/N - “Hi :)”

I sat their staring at the message before typing himself

Luca - Hi

Time skip (why? Because I fucking said so.)

Over the past few weeks, Lucifer and Y/N talked every day. Learning every little detail of each other. Lucifer learned about your job, your friends, how you lived and how you died even. He couldn’t help but want to know everything.

Y/N learned he had a daughter and that he’d been “recently divorced”, his words not theirs. Y/N learned that he loves ducks and creating new duck toys, he was a big dork, like a big puppy dog. Of course you didn’t know you were talking to Lucifer himself, you thought you were talking to a man named Luca…

During Lucifer’s now frequent visit to his daughter and her little Hazbin hotel, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how her dad was one his phone more then usual, usual being never. Naturally, Charlie was curious. “Sooo..” Charlie started, a little unsure what to say about her fathers new found internet obsession. “Who are you talking to?” Charlie ask curious.

Lucifer was quick to meet his daughters eyes and quickly put his phone face down on the table . “No one!” He said in an almost scream, before it buzzed again..and again…and again. Charlie eyes went between her dads now sweating face and and his phone. Before Lucifer could even react, Charlie reached for his phone. “Wait!” Lucifer said reaching for his phone from her hands, the phone screen lite up and Charlie was greeted my 4 notifications from someone named Y/N from Viva. Charlie gasp turning quickly turning to face him, Charlie’s face lite up like Christmas lights. “YOUR TALKING TO SOMEONE?!” Charlie squealed from excitement, since she helped set up his password she quickly opened his phone to see more.

“Charlie don’t-“ Lucifer started to say before seeing her face fall from its happy to confused. “Wait..” Charlie said looking at his profile, “why is your name ‘Luca’?” Charlie ask her eyes moving from his phone finally to be greeted with Lucifer’s red face “well…,” Lucifer started, “I wasn’t comfortable putting my name and photo on there so…I put a different name and photo.” Charlie’s face went from suprise to more annoyed, not angry, just disappointed. “Dad you can’t just do that!” Charlie said to her father, her free rubbing her face. “You can’t just catfish her!”

Lucifer looked confused, catfish? Like the animal? “Catfish?” Lucifer asked, truly not understanding the term. “Yes dad you can’t just lie about who you are to someone like that!” Charlie said scolding her father. Lucifer after that was able to put two and two together, the weight of what he’s been hit him like a bus. “Dad,” Charlie said letting out a sigh, “you have to come clean to them.” She said as she handed him his phone. “Char ITS not that easy!” Lucifer said taking the phone from then hand seeing them newest text, her caring words, them asking if he he’s eaten, remind him to take care of himself, her word hit his heart hard. “It’s not a normal situation, I’m the king of hell, not some random sinner!” Lucifer said he eyes not leaving the illuminated screen. “Dad, they’re gonna find out sooner or later, it’s better if you do it now, early into you talking then later..”

Lucifer stated quiet, he knew deep down she was right, he did truly like them and want more with them, he could only imagine how you’d react if he waited much longer it’s already been a few weeks… Lucifer let out a sigh and looked up at his daughter. “your right..” he said quietly, “I’ll tell them just…give me time..” Charlie stared for a moment before letting before smiling again. “Just do it soon dad…” Lucifer knew she was right.

Later that night Lucifer layed in his bed, looking at her last message, contemplating how to tell them, shoudl he texted it, no they’d think he’s joking, “maybe…” he though out loud. “A FaceTime..?” He asked himself, no, he didn’t even know how to start one… maybe…a date? You’d know he wasn’t lying about being satan himself, he could explain better then over a device and he could only imagine how beautiful you were in person… Lucifer looked down at the message you last send hesitation purged his mind, but slowly he began to type.

Luca - hey, can I ask you something?

Y/N - of course ask anything! :)

Luca - I was thinking he could go out sometime? Like a date going out.

After a a minute he saw you typing a new message. He could already feel his heart race a mile a minute, he felt a cold sweat form. Why was he so nervous? Then a little buzz when off, it was you he was hesitant but swipe to open the message.

Y/N - wait really? You wanna go on a date with me??

Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat before typing with shaky fingers.

Luca - yes Y/N I really do.

Y/N - Yes I’d love to!! ❤️

Lucifer’s eyes lit up seeing you answer in only seconds, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at the simple heart emoticon. Soon you both planned to meet for dinner the next night at a nice restaurant, named killer appetite, closer to the center of pentagram city, then he hit him…you both were actually going on a date. Together…

Y/N’s POV

When I saw his message asking me out, I could have screamed. He actually wanted to see me! I quickly typed and agreed to it. We chose dinner at a nice high end restaurant closer to the center of the city, I’ve heard of the place it was up scale. I was so ecstatic.

The next day at work couldn’t have gone slower, it felt like every minute was a hour long but as soon as that clock hit five, I was out the door racing home to get ready.As soon I was ready, my hair and outfit was perfect. I was quick out the door to the restaurant. On my way I received a message from Luca.

Luca - hey! Placed a reservation under L.M.

“L.M?” I asked myself, wondering what it meant, maybe his initials? I smile and replied ok,only a few minutes later I was at the restaurant, even though it was only 7 the restaurant was lively, full and packed. I walked over to the hostess stand.

“Hi, there should be a reservation for L.M?” I felt nervous, a mix of because of how busy it is and meet him…when I said the name of the reservation the hostess gave changed a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Of course! Right this way!” She said trying to put on a happy face but the nerves over shadowed that, she let me to a table already set up in a quieter area, almost completely different from the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. “your server will be with you shortly, please enjoy!” She said as she raced out the room. I staired at the entrance way confused, why was that girl so nervous, and to have such a secluded area on a Friday night, it was unusual…

I sat down at the table that faced the entrance way. I pulled out my phone to text me.

Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)

I saw he read the text but no reply, I felt nervous again, my eyes kept watching my phone, my mouth was dry. But then I heard a voice “sorry I’m late..” the voice sounded nervous. I look up to a short blonde man. My eyes widen and my mouth is dry…

I was looking at Lucifer himself…

TAG LIST

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @rainycloud858

[angelicsoka]

BLIND DATE, j. drysdale

part two <3

word count | 758 words

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | you were never one for dating, especially when trevor is the one setting them up. but one date can’t hurt, right?

warnings | talk of pregnancy and terrible ex boyfriends. not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | thank you for 200 followers! i can't believe people actually enjoy my writing but here we are lmao. i’ve had this idea sitting in my drafts for a while but i finally decided to sit down and write it. its pretty short but i’m not against writing a part two :) anyway, enjoy!!

dating was never really your thing, at least not since your last boyfriend left you pregnant and alone in a city you were unfamiliar with. your ex had convinced you to move from michigan to california, something your family tried to warn you against, but you were stubborn. finding out you were pregnant was an accident, a routine checkup. what was supposed to be a wonderful thing turned terrible quick. your ex was angry, he wanted nothing to do with a kid. he gave you an ultimatum: get an abortion or we are over. but, as stated before, you were stubborn and had already to start to fall in love with the idea of being a mom. so, he left and you chose to stay in anaheim, a difficult decision but your ego was already hurt and proving your parents right was not what you wanted to do.

so, here you were, the mother of a two year old little girl who was your whole world. she was your moon and stars, the light of your life. it was you and her against the world, and you were content with that. that was until trevor zegras decided to intervene. “one date.” he begged, “he's a good guy, you’ll like him!” you had simply rolled your eyes, but after he offered to babysit for you whenever you wanted, you faltered, agreeing to the date. 

now, you were sat in a fancy restaurant awaiting the arrival of trevor’s friend. she felt out of place, her dress not nearly as elegant as the women that surrounded her. she checked her phone once more, ready to leave when a man in a suit rushed over, a hurried look on his face. “sorry, i’m sorry! trevor wouldn't stop yapping.” you stood up, smoothing out your dress before offering him your hand to shake. 

“it's all good, you must be jamie?” he nodded, shaking your hand. his smile made your heart flutter slightly, bringing a smile to grace your own lips. “y/n, it's a pleasure.” the anxious pit in your stomach began to settle as you sat, feeling comfortable in the presence of jamie. 

“trevor didn’t tell me much about you.” jamie smiled sheepishly.

“guess we’re in the same boat then.” you smiled, taking a sip from your water. “tell me, jamie, how is it that a handsome guy like you is resorting to blind dates to find a girl?” you questioned, a teasing look in your eye. jamie blushed, ducking his head slightly.

“well, hockey takes up most of my time and trevor takes up the rest of it.” you laughed at that, “it's like wrangling around a small child.”

“oh, i know that feeling all to well. my daughter is great at matching his energy.” jamie did well in hiding his shock, masking it with confusion, but you had learned to pick up on the small cues. “he didn’t tell you?” 

“no, uh, he wasn’t very forthcoming with information.” you nodded, unlocking your phone and pulling up a picture of your daughter. 

“this is my daughter, isla. she has enough energy to outdo trevor, but she’s my world and i wouldn’t change a thing about her.” jamie smiled at the photo of isla who was wearing an elsa dress, her mouth covered in chocolate. 

“she is very cute.” jamie looked to you, “just like her mom.” you blushed, laughing slightly. “how old is she?”

“just turned two, here’s her with my brothers at her frozen themed party.” you swiped to the photo of isla opening her presents with the help of your brothers. 

“is that jack wearing a… tiara?” jamie questioned, pointing to jack who had a crown, which was too small, on his head. 

you giggled, swiping to another photo, “yeah well, quinn and luke were wearing tutus but they attacked me when i tried to take a picture, but isla has them wrapped around her finger.” you showed jamie the photo of your daughter in her elsa dress, quinn and luke wearing matching tutus. “they don’t know i have this photo.” jamie laughed, a sound you were already growing to love. you closed your phone, setting it beside you. 

“anyway, tell me about you.” and he did, and you listened intently, never once losing interest. what you thought would be a boring date, had turned into one of the best dates you had ever been on. you exchanged numbers before you went your separate ways, another date already in the works. 

who knew trevor would make a decent matchmaker?

[jiminrings]

fail-safe; intermission 02.

wordcount: 2k

glimpse: you leave for the night, but hopefully for good in the future.

alternatively, jungkook offers you reprieve.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

You’ve come to loathe your childhood home.

You’ve come to loathe your room and most especially your bed. You’ve come to hate the people who inhabit it in one way or another, whether it is to guard the door to it or sleep on it.

You detest the floor space that makes everyone who enters it regard it as cozy as if it’s an embrace that’s waiting solely for them. You despise the way it smells, the mix of what lived-in comes off as a scent seeming like an invitation for just about everyone.

The start and end to everything that has caused you immense pain in your life had something to do with your home. From the evident patriarch that’s missing in all your family photos, to how the outside doesn’t seem lavish compared to the facades of your classmates’ houses, to even the visitor that has been hellbent since day one to treat it as his very own — everything that has given you grief comes from the same place you’ve sworn up and down gave you nothing but comfort.

You don’t know where to place all your rage; you can’t even start unpacking everything you hold inside because there’s no space in a house so little to even tolerate you. It houses everything from a past (you’re not so sure of the tense) lover to offspring of said lover, but what your home can’t do is bear you–

Which is why you find yourself driving up to the big city, crashing into a room you know the most outside of your own space in your own house, just to stay for the night. It’s maintained to the state of when you’ve last been in it, the sight of the city below you reminding you that even for just a second, you could pretend that it’s your own home.

It’s your own space in the big city where there isn’t a brother whose loyalties don’t lie with you. It’s your own home wherein you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s intruding on everyone else in there because out of all of them, you’re the one who’s the least-adjusted when it comes to family. You’re above everyone, even if it’s just pretend, and in your few moments of peace, it comes. The click on the door comes, and you freeze up instantly.

What you didn’t expect is for the owner of it to actually come home.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, immediately straightening up your form on his couch. You didn’t even dare to put up your feet on his coffee table but with the way you react, he’d almost think you defiled it in ways he can’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find any vacant hotels that could take me in such a short notice.”

There’s no confusion in Jungkook’s face. Surprise, sure, because he’s not used to anyone else having his key except for you, and when his eyes did settle to the light, his shock immediately dissipated. There’s no hostility. No arrogance, and no hint on his face telling you that you were unwelcome.

If anything, he looks warm.

“Oh come on, Y/N. You can crash anytime you’d like,” he laughs loudly once he figures that your startled expression looks amusing, the sound of his keys hitting the bowl snapping you out of your daze. “God knows you’ve saved my ass and let me crash in your house far too many times.”

Jungkook takes off his coat and hands you his own house slippers, sliding them from underneath your feet that you’re adamant to not put up anywhere else besides the floor.

You’re relieved for the most part, the guilt that you feel in your stomach creeping into your chest because Jungkook looks relaxed. Nonchalant, even, to know that you dropped into his home without even asking. It’s the total opposite of what you’ve felt seeing Yoongi do the same to you, the lone difference being Jungkook actually wanting you to be here.

“That’s because I’m your manager. That’s literally my work,” you sigh breathlessly, accepting the meal that he gives you sheepishly. You’d have to share with him because he wasn’t expecting anyone, but oddly enough, Jungkook’s more apologetic than you are because he didn’t check on you during your break. Your talent’s sorry because he didn’t anticipate you coming to him, and it’s a situation you’re completely unused to.

You’re not used to being on the receiving end of apologies.

“No, that’s beyond your work. A friend would do that. A manager would rat me out to the CEO and give me an ultimatum,” Jungkook corrects you, flipping his hair that’s grown out since his last project. The break the both of you are in on is literally the first throughout your whole careers, and the sudden reunion reminds you of the fact that he is correct.

Jungkook sees the knot in between your eyebrows, the same one that always appeared whenever you had to chew someone out for messing up something on his agenda, the chuckle that leaves him making you look up attentively.

“You could use a drink. You look like you need it,” he stands up to pour you a glass of his favorite liquor in his favorite glass, the worn-out milk cup freebie of his cereal being the perfect container whenever he wanted to get tipsy but not drunk. “How was going home?”

“It felt bad,” you admit with no shame. It’s Jungkook, and even if he has more stuff going on in his life success-wise than you do, you don’t feel a need to prove yourself. “I had to leave early.”

“And how was seeing Yoongi?” he raises a brow, still adept to the stories about him whenever you both took a load off busy schedules with drinking.

“Even worse,” you grumble, shuddering at the remembrance of a memory that’s still fresh in your mind. “I had to leave early because he was on my bed again, but this time, sleeping with his ex-wife and his son.”

Jungkook gasps softly, lips parting open in shock. “The same guy who fucked his high school sweetheart in your room?”

“Get this,” you chuckle with no real humor to it, looking down on your cup with a hatred that he could recognize. He doesn’t see it everyday, most especially not from you either, but Jungkook knows that look — that anger that could only come from someone who had to endure so much. “High school sweetheart and mother of his child and ex-wife? Just the same person.”

You’re not sure if it’s pity you should expect from Jungkook. You don’t expect any grand reaction because he should be desensitized to points like these (he’s done his fair share of dramas, both melodramatic and straight-up cheesy), but what you certainly don’t expect is for him to launch himself at you. To comfort you.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles to your shoulder, large hand cupping repeatedly against your back.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper, pulling away to wipe at the tears at the corners of your eyes before they get on Jungkook. You turn your head away, pretending that the city you look down on is Yoongi, and that the tears that pool onto your cheeks aren’t there at all. “It must be Yoongi’s birthright to go sleep in my room like he owns it.”

Your sarcasm can’t carry over not because you sniffled, but because Jungkook is perhaps the most observant person in the world after you. “But that’s not the worst, Jungkook.”

He’s nervous for a second before it turns into annoyance, the look of genuine concern filling his face. He has his hand on your forearm, trying to get you to look at him so when you do lie, he could catch it. “Do you need me to rough him up for you?”

“I have no right,” you mutter to yourself more than you do for him, kissing your teeth at the frustration that whatever it is to do, you can’t seem to pick yourself up now. “I can get angry at him for sleeping on my bed with no permission. I can even get angry at him for lots of things. For giving me this, this false hope that we’ll ever amount to something,” you shakily exhale, looking down on your hands that are far from Hyewon’s that have held him and their child. “But the one thing — the one thing I can’t get angry at Yoongi for is him sleeping with his family.”

You have no right. Absolutely no semblance, no fraction of anything that could ever lead you to the conclusion that you have a say on how Yoongi loves his family, even if he’s divorced Hyewon whom he’ll forever keep the porch light on for.

He can leave town and take his share, but Hyewon can always come home — that’ll never change because she was once someone whom he loved the most (probably still), and the mother to Haneul. The porch light is on and the windows are cracked open in the event that she wants to come home to them, be it their home in New York or Los Angeles, be it the home you grew up in.

“What can I do about that, Jungkook? I can’t fault him for that. That’s his family. I don’t play any part in it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N,” he soothes you, fingertips lightly scratching at your scalp. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Stop lying,” you cry to your hands even if Jungkook’s chest is right in front of you, the best he could do (the best that you allow because you’re not used to anyone going out of their way for you) only letting you cry the way you know how.

“I’m saying the truth,” he hums, unconsciously swaying you back in forth as you sit on the floor together. “People take so much from you, do you know that? Weren’t you the one that had to hustle and get a practical job because your brother was gambling on passion alone?” he tilts his head, wiping at your tears. “Weren’t you the one who had to carry all the hurt when it came to Yoongi?”

Jungkook even comes to a conclusion.

“I’m guilty of it too. I give you such a hard time.”

“Stop it,” you nudge him, effectively snapping out of your crying state when you hear Jungkook going into a train he shouldn’t even board in the first place. “That’s different. It’s literally my job to go through a hard time so you don’t.”

“But still. I feel like I don’t pay you enough for it,” he frowns, the immediate laugh that bursts from your lips making him smile.

“The agency does, but okay,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, the bonus you gave me enabled me to buy a new car.”

“Eh,” he shrugs exaggeratedly in faux arrogance, the smile on his face cheeky enough that it makes you throw your head back in amusement. “It is a nice car, isn’t it?”

Jungkook does it so quick, it being your reprieve, you don’t even notice that it’s the first long stretch of silence you’re under without thinking about anything but yourself; how you breathe, how you feel your fingers move, and even how steady your heart feels.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smile softly, turning to him as he does the same. “For letting me crash and making things a little lighter for me. Even if it isn’t your job.”

“We’ve known each other for years,” he reasons. “You’re there and I’m there, even we’re not on the clock.”

There’s weight behind his smile, the inkling that pops up into your brain making you chuckle to yourself as you straighten up once again.

“I’ll get out of your hair in a few hours. I need to beat the traffic on the way back.”

“You’re still going back? This has got to be torture.”

You shrug carelessly, sighing heavily. “Three more days. My mom’s been blowing up my phone telling me she wants the family complete so she wouldn’t look stupid in front of everyone for this big family reunion,” you nod to yourself, building up whatever dignity and resolve you have left. “I think I can endure that much for her.”

Jungkook’s mind is as set as yours is to go home.

“You don’t have to endure it alone,” he offers, eyes wide and honest.

“What?”

“I’m an actor. Award-winning,” he adds, the smile that lingers on his face giving you more than just reprieve. “Even better than that, I’m also a good friend and an excellent debt-payer.”

“Jungkook,” you say his name as warning, partly in disbelief, and partly to convince yourself that he’s not thinking what you’re thinking.

“You’re a decent actress too. Just follow my lead,” he shrugs, shoving you lightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” you gasp, shaking your head adamantly. “Seriously, you don’t want to play any part in this chaos-…”

“I’ve been in worse settings,” he counters. “Stop taking shit, Y/N. Pretty woman like you doesn’t deserve anything of the sort.”

“Jungkook.”

He knows he already has you partly convinced when you let him get another word in.

“You and me, dating, driving back home. You can pretend you’re alright and unaffected with everything,” Jungkook grins. “We act it out enough, it’ll eventually come true.”

[hxney-lemcn]

Reunions and Resolved Misunderstandings — Cal Kestis x gn! reader

summery: feeling like an outcast, you're the first one to leave the Mantis' crew. years later, you stumble across Cal once again and old feelings end up bursting to light in the worst of ways. At the very least, misunderstandings are finally cleared.

tw: mentions of killing/assassination (readers past), hurt/comfort, slight spoilers for the beginning of Jedi Survivor.

a/n: I got to the kiss in Jedi Survivor and inspiration struck. I can see how every Cal fic is about 4k words long, its hard not to write so much for him lmao.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

It had been as clear as day. The connection between Cal and Merrin was undeniable. It made your stomach churn. You were with Cere and Greez when you saved him from Bracca and had been glued to his side ever since…that was until Merrin joined. Don’t get me wrong, you loved her and was glad to offer her a new home…but every time your eyes landed on the two you felt your heart twist. In response to this new development you distanced yourself. Tried to smile past the ache in your heart and enjoy what you had. But it was hard, and it didn’t help that Cere and Greez seemed to know of your predicament. 

It hurts, seeing the man you loved, who came to you for medical treatment, or would count on you to watch his back, to slowly slip through your fingers. His green eyes that used to sparkle when landing on you had now turned to look at Merrin. How his lingering touches had all but vanished, leaving your skin feeling colder than normal. What made you feel even worse were your thoughts of leaving. Cal wasn’t your only priority, you had Cere, Greez, Merrin…but everytime you found yourself forgetting about the pain it seemed to always hit once more full force. 

This is how you found yourself packing your things…not that you had much. Just some extra clothes, some photos of your crew, and some gifts that BD-1 and Cal had given you. Double checking your blaster, daggers, knives, and the case that held your sniper, you found yourself contemplating if you really wanted to go through with this. That was when you realized you couldn’t handle watching the one you love end up in someone else’s arms, it was easier to leave altogether. As quietly as you could, you made your way through the Mantis, memories of your friends, almost family popped up every so often. 

With the ship lights off, you couldn’t be more thankful for your specialized contact lenses. Everyone was sleeping in their quarters…or at least they were supposed to be. You froze as you ran into Greez, and as his gaze landed on you he seemed to deflate. 

“You’re really just gonna leave like that?” He asked, his voice low to keep from accidentally waking anyone up. 

“I’m sorry,” You murmured, not able to look in his direction. “I just…”

“I get it kid,” He sighed. “The others won’t be so happy, but I’m glad I caught you on the way out.”

“I’m glad to have met you all,” You tried to console, but you weren’t sure if you were trying to console Greez or yourself. “I’ll be forever grateful to you and Cere for saving me. Here,” Taking out a piece of paper, you handed it to the Latero. “It's a note, I know the way I’m leaving is shitty, but I couldn’t leave without letting you guys know it was voluntary.”

With that, you disappeared into the night, trying your hardest not to look back.

~~~

You were the first one to leave, and soon Cal found himself watching his crew leave him one by one. He was heartbroken when Greez read aloud the note you left behind, wishing them all the best, and how you were going to a rebel base not too far from where they were. He didn’t understand why you left, or how everyone had accepted it so easily. He wished he could’ve seen you one last time, to ask you why, to plead for you to stay. When Greez finally bought Pyloon Saloon, Cal found himself resenting you slightly. You seemed to be the catalyst for everyone's departure. You were all so happy, why did you have to leave them? Why did you have to leave him? 

When he thought back of his time with you, he felt like he was choking. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you, or what you last spoke about. Had you scolded him for getting injured? Did you laugh with him over a silly scenario with BD? Or was it that lonely gaze you sent him as he joked with Merrin, not paying any mind to you. Are you happy now? Have you made new friends? Have you found someone to confide in? Cal’s heart hurt no matter how he spun his head around you. Don’t get him wrong, he missed the entire crew. He missed Greez’s cooking, Merrin’s dry humor, Cere…but somehow he found himself missing you the most. How you cared for him so gently after he’d get hurt, how you’d listen to his problems and give advice that seemed far beyond your years. How even if you weren’t used to touch, you’d still allow him to hug you after a long, stressful mission.  Even with his new crew, he still felt that hollow void that the old crew left in him. No matter how lovely they were, how deeply he cared about them, he couldn’t help but reminisce of the good old days. Trapped in the past that seemed golden. Cal thought that he had been imagining you at first. Depressed after a harsh mission on Coruscant that wiped out his entire crew, seeking solace at Pyloon Saloon with Greez, he hadn’t thought he’d find you here. He felt like he’d stumbled upon an oasis after stumbling through the desert. Have you always looked so ethereal? Smiling so sweetly as you talked with Greez. You looked different, hair a new length, more mature, happier…have you always looked this happy?

Cal was snapped out of his stupor as both you and Greez turned to face the jedi. He almost got lost once more, wanting to drown in your gaze. He missed the soft way you’d look at him, how he felt cared for and loved with your eyes alone. Instead of that sweet look he was used to, your eyes filled with panic, your posture awkward as you curled in on yourself. The same way you’d react to a stranger. It felt like the dagger you’d always hide in your boot had managed to pierce through his heart. As Greez greeted Cal, you watched on the sidelines, sipping your drink as you tried to hide from Cal’s piercing gaze. 

How long has it been since you last saw Cal? It’s been quite a while. You had only planned on catching up with Greez, as you both left on the best of terms, and although Greez tried to assure you that Cal and the others still cared about you and weren’t angry, he seemed a bit hesitant. So essentially you were scared, scared of the repercussions of your own actions. Running away could only take you so far, and if you ran enough you’d end up right where you started. And you ended up running straight back to the problem of why you left. Your body tensed as Cal took a seat beside you, not aware he had already finished talking with Greez. Anxiously, you peered up at the red haired man through your eyelashes, unsure how to take his blank gaze, or the way your name gently fell past his lips.

“How have you been?” Cal asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around the various emotions you managed to stir up. Sadness, bitterness, longing, anger, regret. 

You shrugged, looking down at your drink as you stirred it, “I’ve been alright. Doing runs for the rebellion and all that. Thought I’d take a short break to check in on the old geezer.” Cal chuckled slightly, wishing for the awkwardness to dissipate, wishing for what you had to come back. “How about you?” 

“Could be better,” He hums, eyes never leaving the side of your face. Drinking in your profile as you shied away. You could tell something had happened, there was a darkness in his eyes, that shine you remember had dulled and you felt your heart break. He didn’t elaborate past that, and you knew better than to pry. A short silence washed over you, awkward, but Cal felt his heart thrum steadily. “I missed you.” You couldn’t stop yourself from looking up to him in shock, mouth slightly agape as you struggled to wrap your head around the vulnerable moment.Pushing past the way you wanted to run, having closed yourself off once again after you left the Mantis, you once again found yourself struggling to let yourself be vulnerable. But the sad puppy-like eyes Cal was sending you made you push past that, mumbling that you missed him in return.

“Why did you leave?” He asked the question you hoped to never go over. 

Once again you found yourself battling the raised walls you put up, unsure if you wanted to actually confess the true reason. Instead, you settled for a watered down version. “I guess I felt a bit left out. Like an outsider I suppose. So I decided it was best for me to leave…” 

“Left out…?” Cal couldn’t help but repeat in a whisper. Guilt suddenly consumed him, his brain finding every time he remembered seeing you on the sidelines, smiling at the moment you had witnessed. Or how you’d slink away, no one trying to stop you as they all laughed about something he couldn’t even remember. It…it was his fault.

“It’s none of your guy’s fault,” You consoled, a bitter smile lining your lips. “I should’ve spoken up about how I felt, instead I ran away like a coward.”

“But I should’ve noticed-” You quickly shut him up with a swift kick to the shin and a lighthearted glare. He gave an overdramatic wince as your kick could barely be described as a kick, more of a light tap. But he felt his heart warm as you were once again slowly opening up to him. 

“Not. Your. Fault.” You spoke sternly. “You always were so quick to take the blame.”

“Wanna help me find a gyro module for old times sake?”

~~~~

You forgot how easy it was to love Cal Kestis. That night when you left, you knew you’d always love him, he has his own special spot in your heart. But over the years those feelings were buried under layers, like sediment. Whether it be adrenaline from missions, celebration with new friends, or the death of a crew member, you find yourself focusing on other aspects of life. You hadn’t planned on running into the now infamous jedi, but even so, you hadn’t expected those old feelings to rupture forth like an exploding volcano. His boyish smile sends shockwaves to your heart. His gentle touch helping you drop down a small cliff makes you yearn to give him a hug and melt in his arms. His compliments on your skills making you puff your chest a little. It's scary how one person has so much control over your feelings, but you also miss the feeling. 

It all comes hurtling down at once when he starts going on a tangent about Merrin. It started with you asking about her and Cere, and now he won’t shut up about her growth in the time you left. You felt stupid, stupid that your heart still managed to cling to the hope that he’d felt more for you in some way. Of course he only loved you as a friend, and you were grateful, but also downtrodden. Though this time Cal seemed to pick up on your spaced out look, gently calling your name.

“What’s wrong?” Cal asked like the caring person he was.

You snapped out of your little bubble you didn’t even realize you put yourself in, bringing your gaze to the concerned one of your friend. “Nothing, I’m glad she’s doing well,” You said with a strained smile. It was left at that as both you and Cal explored Koboh, avoiding raiders to the best of your ability. Exploring the Basalt Forest, you found yourself looking at your surroundings in awe. You loved exploring different planets, watching the flora and fauna interact, from ice planets that had plants still managing to cling to life to desert planets that had a variety of animals that had adapted to the harsh climate. If you hadn’t been taught to kill from a young age and forced to be an assassin, you would’ve loved to have been a researcher. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cal was silently watching you fawn over every little thing you stumbled upon. Pointing out a bug you’ve never seen before or trying to pet those birdlike creatures that would try to charge at you. He could only watch in awe, seeing you in a completely new light. He never fully comprehended that you had a love for wildlife, or just anything that wasn’t human at that. You had always fawned over BD, leaving him feeling a bit left out, but happy the little droid made you happy. And now seeing you do the same for any animal, plant, and even some bugs…he never knew the extent of your love. Making him realize that this entire time, he only knew you through the lens he set for you. A very Cal centric lens. 

Has he ever really known you? All of you? There’s only one way to find out, and that was to get to know you. All of you. From your best aspects to your worst flaws. And as you both sat on the edge of a cliff, Cal couldn’t stop himself from watching you. The way the sun shone down on you, from your hair shining brilliantly to the way the sun made your eyes pop, he couldn’t get enough of you. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and Cal couldn’t agree more. His eyes followed as a small gust of wind blew your hair out of place, and without a second thought, he gently brushed your hair back in place, admiring your startled look. 

So many emotions overtook him. There was a warmth to your presence, whether that be through the force or not. In fact, he didn’t really care, he just wished he’d never have to be devoid of the feeling again. And as you looked at him, neither of you backing down from your little stare off, Cal felt something selfish grow within him. He wanted you to join him again, he wanted you to be there to patch him up like before, to fight by his side, to hold you close for comfort. In fact, he can’t remember why he stopped doing that, why he let you both get distant. As these selfish thoughts and desires grew, he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to look at your lips, they looked oh so inviting. 

You felt your heart skip a beat as Cal’s eyes dropped for a few seconds. No, no this wasn’t right. He clearly loved Merrin, so why was he staring at you like you had hung the stars and moon? Why was he leaning in closer? Why could you feel his breath hit your face, why is he closing his eyes? This is what you’ve always wanted, so why were you panicking? Why did you push him away, causing him to give a hurt and concerned look. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Cal stuttered. “I…I should’ve asked.”

“No, its, I,” You stumbled, trying to put together a sentence with your currently scrambled mind. “What about Merrin?”

“What?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What about her?”

Now you were the one giving him a confused look, “You clearly love her.”

“What?” Cal could hardly believe his ears. His heart dropped when your face crumbled into a tired look, releasing a long sigh as your eyes trailed back to the beautiful scenery around you.

“The way you talk about her, look at her, interact with her…it's obvious how much you care for her,” You explained. 

“Because she’s my friend,” He countered, grabbing your hand that lay on your lap. The anger you had always felt about the situation started bubbling up, your eyes squinting into a sharp glare as you grip on his hand tightened into an almost bruising grip. Your frustration made clear in the tears that started to well up.

“So then why did you forget about me!” You snarled, letting go of his calloused hand and putting some distance between you both. Your vicious look dissolved as tears rolled down your cheeks, pulling your knees up to your chest and buried your face, not wanting to see Cal’s hurt look. “We were so close, but then all you paid attention to was Merrin and I felt like an outcast. Like I didn’t belong with the crew anymore.”

You tensed when he put a hand on your back, trying to comfort you, but instead of pulling away, he pulled your curled up form into his side, holding you as you cried. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your hair, holding you tighter. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I-its not y-your fault,” You stuttered through tears. “Instead of telling you I just left.”

“You should’ve never felt like that to begin with,” He murmured, his own eyes watering at the thought of you feeling alone like that…all because of him. 

“It's not like you can read minds,” You grumbled, sniffling as the tears slowly started to end. 

“Well…” 

You elbowed his side while trying to stifle a laugh, “Shut up, you know what I mean. It’s not your job to keep tabs on how everyones feeling at all times.”

“But I care about you,” Cal stated, pulling away enough to face you. He finds himself brushing your last few tears away, his palm resting against your cheek. “If I knew you felt like that I would’ve done something.”

“I know,” You murmured. “But we can’t change the past. What’s happened, happened.”

Resting his forehead on yours, you felt your breath hitch as Cal let out a frustrated sigh, “I’ll make it up to you.” You felt your heart stutter when he opened his eyes, determination shining clearly. “I promise.”

“I’m sure you will,” You replied, a small smile forming. Getting to finally vent out your problems seemed to have lifted a weight on your heart you didn’t realize was there the entire time. Leaning in, your heart jumped as Cal placed a sweet kiss to your cheek, standing up quickly and holding his hand out towards you. You found yourself pouting inadvertently, but taking his hand nonetheless. As he pulled you up with ease, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips.

“How about we start tonight?” Cal asks. “I have an idea of where to start.”

“Okay,” You agreed. “Lead the way.”

Things might not have been perfect, and soon Cal will continue his journey, but for now, in this moment, everything finally fell into place.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Home

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: You and George agreed to spend Christmas Eve separated at your parents’ homes. Your family just have a different opinion on your life choices.

Warnings: some families are toxic as hell; love; fluff

A/N: Here we go, I felt a little frustrated during Christmas at my parents, because I’m single as hell for a second year straight and everybody around was so happy, that it made me cry. Enjoy this little thing!

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

“Does he even love you?”

“You’re by yourself at your parents for Christmas!”

“He clearly doesn’t care about you!”

“Poor thing, you obviously don’t fit into his luxurious world.”

Sitting at the Christmas table in your family home wasn’t that pleasant as you expected. And also you already regretted agreeing with George to spent this day separated with your families.

Your family always insisted about meeting with everybody. Your grandma, uncles, aunties, kids from the distant relatives… It wasn’t bothering until you started dating the “famous driver Georgie” as they liked to address him. Saying how you changed, how you’re not visiting that much, always being busy with your new life, throwing jokes and insults into your face.

While all you ever wanted was to be happy.

Day after Christmas it was too much for you, and you were ready to get back to Monaco, when George called you to get to his family home to England, already sending you a plane ticket, because who would say no to England.

And that’s how you ended up at the British countryside, car stopping in front of the house, a typical architectural style of England, your eyes taking in all the beauty. And the fog was just a cherry on top of everything.

George stood there waiting for you, wearing jeans along with dark red buttoned shirt, perfectly fitting into the scene.

Meanwhile driver was getting your suitcase out of the cab, you were already in George’s tight embrace, mumbling into his chest some incoherent things, feeling comfortable after the past couple of days.

“I missed you.”

He put a finger under your chin to make you look at him, his smile wide.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry, that your family wasn’t that welcoming. But I think you’d love how my family is excited to meet you.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a little uneasy, because meeting the parents of your boyfriend wasn’t nice experience in the past.

George led you through the house, which was filled with cosy and old decorations and furniture, just like you always dreamed about.

In the living room sat his parents, the eager expression written over their faces, their eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, which was standing in the corner.

His mom was first to approach you in tight hug, while George wanted to say something, but was interrupted.

“Nice to finally meet you, honey! You’re so pretty, even more than at the photos.”

Your cheeks were tinted in pink, smiling nervously, you didn’t expect this kind of greeting.

His dad also took a few steps to you, hugging you and smiling at you with warmth, that filled your heart.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

George cleared his throat a little, catching their attention.

“I think it’s time for you to have this, finally. Since you didn’t want to wear it while being at your parents, now, I must watch over you to wear it properly.”

He took his hand out of the pocket of his jeans, opening his palm to reveal a simple silver ring with a diamond. His parents gasped in shock, while you just chuckled in happiness.

As he slid the ring onto your hand, he leaned down to kiss your forehead, sliding his hands down your neck.

“George William Russell. When did you plan you tell us about your engagement?”

His mother spoke in very serious tone, your smile faded at this, maybe they weren’t as supportive as they seemed.

“Mom, I just- it happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to talk about it. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but my sister interrupted me many times that I just gave up.”

His dad, just got to you both grabbing you by your shoulders and hugging you, hiding his happy tears. Then he lifted his head, looking at George.

“I’m so proud of you, son.”

His mom rolled her eyes with soft chuckle, getting to your side also, hugging you too.

“Well, welcome to family, dearest. We love you already.”

Your heart was filled with so much love and joy, that you thought you could burst from that.

And that was how you spent the rest of the holidays. In George’s warm embrace, at the cosiness of his parents house, where nobody questioned your relationship.

It was the place, where you belong.

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Find me

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Good Grief - Bastille

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Synopsis: Simon has always reminded you before every mission, that if he were not to return home. You are to find him at the edge of the world. You didn’t understand at first, but now you do.

Word count: 1.730

Masterlist

Simon is tired. He’s tired of putting up with the Ghost persona. He’s done being ruthless, cold, and a brute. He has served long enough already. He has expressed his desire to put down the mask many times with you. He expressed that he wants to start a family with you, settle down, and maybe get a dog or two. Perhaps even a cat. Things that he couldn’t do with you earlier because of his job, his role at the SAS.

Before he leaves to go to missions he makes sure to always, always remind you. That if he were not to return home to you, you can find him at the edge of the world. He would whisper these words to you while kissing your forehead. A subtle reminder that he’s still there with you. You always questioned him, you didn’t understand why he’s always repeating the same thing. What ‘at the edge of the world’ means. He’d always shush you and tell you that you’ll figure it out eventually.

So when a two week mission turned into a 4 week. Followed by you pacing around the shared home that Simon had built for you in the middle of nowhere, to keep you safe. You expected anything but this. He promised, he always fucking promised to return home to you. What a lie it was. The way you sprint to the front porch of your home when you hear the familiar rumbling of an engine a car makes could make people think you’re a sprinter for the Olympics. You stand there with a smile, only for it to drop when you see the familiar bucket hat step out of the driver’s seat.

You can feel your whole world crumbling, as if time has stopped ticking for you. Price walks over to you with shiny metal in his hand, metal that hangs around Simon’s neck. Or used to at least. Tears start welling up, “John, please. Tell me it’s a joke.” The only thing he gives you is a smile out of sympathy. He puts his captain face on, “I regret to inform you that, Lieutenant Simon Riley. Has been killed in action in our recent mission. We could only recover his dog tags.” He holds his hand out with the tags. You reach out a shaky hand and grab onto the metal. You stare at the engraved name, ‘L.T. Simon Riley’. You run your thumb over the name. You resolve crumbles as you crash to the floor. John falls with you to comfort you, he rubs your arms as you wail and sob for Simon. John opens his mouth, “he told me this before he went radio silent. He wanted me to tell you that you can find him at the edge of the world, when you’re ready.” Your wails quiet down a bit at hearing his words. “He said that?” You ask, to confirm your suspicions. John nods. You can’t believe you’re going all this but you are, “Did-, did you find a body?” He shakes his head, “we only found his dog tags at the scene. I’m sorry.” You nod and let out a small ‘okay’.

He sees that you have calmed down enough and gets up, helping you up as well. You take his hand as he pulls you up. “We’re bringing home an empty casket, I’ll let you know when the wave off will be.” He tells you softly. You simply nod. You wave him off as he drives away. As you wait for Simon’s empty casket. You spend time deciphering what he means at the edge of the world. You refuse to believe he’s dead. Not when there’s isn't a body, and the fact those were his last words before he went radio silence. He’s out there somewhere, and you’re going to find him. You search through everything, memories, photos, anything that could resemble the edge of the world. But alas you’re not any closer than you were a few days ago.

Eventually Simon’s wave off day arrives. A day you’ve been dreading. It makes it all feel more real and makes you feel like a fool for thinking he’s still alive. You wear a black dress, while all of his teammates, friends, they’re wearing issued black uniforms. Before the casket gets lowered. The rest of the 141 punch in badges into the wood. They salute as the casket gets lowered. You’re standing there, watching it go into the ground with a blank stare. No, you refuse that this will be where your story ends. You will find him.

More days pass by. At this point you’re going insane. You feel like you made no progress at all since the news. You’ve looked everywhere. You sit down on the sofa and look around the home. A home that was once lively with laughter, fun, and with Simon. You smile sadly as you remember the fond memories you’ve made here. You grab hold of the metal that now hangs around your neck. A constant reminder that he’s out there somewhere, waiting for you. Then it comes to you. You’ve looked everywhere but one place. His journal. He usually brings it everywhere with him, except this time. You rush over to your shared bedroom and open his bedside drawer. There it is, in the middle of the drawer where he last left it. You gingerly take the journal out and flip through. Most of its content is about mission details that are mostly likely confidential. Some doodles of the crew. And some pages are about you, and the places you’ve been together. You focus on those pages specifically.

Eventually you come across a Polaroid, a secluded coastal area. Where you have a small holiday home. More like your second home. And with black sharpie he has written, ‘the edge of the world’ on the Polaroid. Bingo, he should be there. You immediately start packing to return to that place, to reunite with your lover. You have a feeling you won’t be returning. So you pack all of the important stuff, clothes, small knick knacks that you both hold dear. You also grab the stuff that he’d most likely love to have back as well.

After you’re done packing and you had a last look at the house. You put on your shoes and grab a jacket. Before heading to the place you make one quick stop, the cemetery. As you drive there you start wondering, do his friends know? Does anyone know? Does he want them to know? You suppose that’s a conversation for another time. Sometime he can decide. Once you arrive at the cemetery, you head to the spot where he’s ‘buried’. You squat down. You read his tombstone. ‘Beloved partner, excellent soldier’. You smile, short and simple. Something he prefers. You place a single white rose down. “I’ll see you soon, my love.” You say.

You head back to your car and prepare yourself for the long drive. But it’s going to be worth it, you’ll see Simon again. During the drive you think about the various memories you have made with Simon. When you first met, at a coffee shop and you spilled your coffee all over him. You gave him your number so you can compensate him at a later time. He was clearly annoyed at first but liked you enough to give you a call and ask for that compensation. When he asked you to be officially his. It was after a mission that went south did he realized that if he died there, he would regret not telling you his true feelings. It so happened that you reincorporated the same feelings. The night that he trusted you enough to open up about his night terrors and past. The details about his job.

Sooner than later you arrive at the holiday home. The sun has already set and the moon is illuminating the quaint place you have here. You stop the car and hastily get out. You practically run to the front door and clumsily open the lock. You walk in with a smile, “Simon? Are you here?” You call out, completely missing the fact that all the lights are turned off. Your smile drops a bit, “Simon?” You call his name out again. Still no answer or Simon shows up. Your hope dwindles. Were you so in denial of his death? Tears start welling up, realising that this was probably a mistake. “S-Simon?” You weakly call out. Hoping that he’ll walk at any moment. You crumble to the floor as you sob. The reality that he is most likely dead, finally settles in. Not being able to sit alone in the cold living room anymore, you run out of the house. Your destination? The secluded beach. You keep running until you smell the saltiness of the water and feel the cold crisp air hitting your skin.

You stop when you notice a figure standing at the water’s edge. Staring out at the open ocean. This figure has the same build as Simon. It is when the figure turns its head slightly that you realize it is Simon. The all familiar mask that he wears out on missions, is being illuminated by the moonshine. “Simon?” You carefully ask him. Wanting to make sure it’s actually him and not a figment of your imagination. He turns around completely, confirming your suspicions. “Took you a while.” He quips. You let out a cry as you run to him. He’s already holding his arms out to you, ready to embrace you. You crash into his chest as your body shakes with sobs. He shushes you as he comforts you. He rubs your back slowly, “I’m here now, lovie. No need to cry anymore.”

As your cries die down, you lift your head to look up at him. You reach out a hand to move his mask. But he bears you to it. He pulls it off quickly and drops it on the sand below. You look up in awe at him. “Ghost is no more. He’s the one you buried. From now on, your sole protector will be Simon, Simon Riley.” You let out a watery laugh. “Oh Simon. I’m so glad it’s only you in the picture now.” He sighs, “Me too, love. Me too.”

“Welcome home, Simon Riley.”

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 3)

The room falls silent, realisation dawns on Y/N, “Jinx?”  She remembers how her girlfriend had told her of her past, her mistakes, how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend.  She didn’t mean to of course but it happened.  Caitlyn can only nod as she watches the tears fall from her eyes.  “I’m sorry Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice fills with sadness as she carefully treads over to her sister who is frozen in her spot, chest heaving as she clutches her shirt.  “A-and dad?” 

“He’s alive and well”  she sends a reassuring smile to her now fragile sister.  With this Y/N collapses to her knees with Caitlyn surging forward to catch her, letting her sob into her shoulder.  Caitlyn holds her close, trying to comfort her, the weight of their shared grief is palpable, and Caitlyn can feel her own emotions welling up in response.

After some time Y/N’s sobs die down to broken whimpers, she pulls back to meet her sister’s eyes, “I’m sorry smalz” she manages through her tears.  Caitlyn hand tenderly cups the younger one’s cheek, wiping away the never-ending steam of tears, “it’s okay, I’m sorry too” her voice soft and assuring.  “I know you’re only just finding out but please…don’t hate Jinx, I have a feeling you know what happened”  Y/N nods, her tears slowing down, “As much as it hurts I can’t hate her, I love her too much”  she buries her head in Caitlyn’s chest.

“You know, I remember the first time she told me about one of her biggest regrets…she told me how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend” she sniffles before continuing, “I kept thinking it must have been painful to carry that weight, I kept reassuring her that we’ve all done things we regret, hurt those who mean the most to us” 

Caitlyn tightens her arms around her little sister, wishing she could take away all her pain.  “I mean hell, do I even deserve to mourn mother after all the things I’ve done?”  Y/N mumbles with a pang in her heart.  “Hey none of that” Caitlyn pulls Y/N’s head from her chest guiding her eyes to her own, “regardless of what you have or haven’t done, she was still your mother” Her tender hands cupping Y/N's face.

The two sit in comfortable silence, the occasional tear escaping but quick to be swept away by the other’s hand.  “Do you think she would hate who I’ve become?” Y/N whispers causing her sister to chuckle.  “No but she would loathe your appearance”  she tries to brighten the mood, eliciting a chuckle form Y/N. “Of course, ‘no scion of the Kiramman name shall be seen in public looking like a vagabond’ “ Y/N mocks drawing out a laugh from both sisters.  “oh how I hated her lectures on appearance” Y/N groans throwing her head back.  “And yet between the two of us you were always dressed elegantly”  Caitlyn teases, “Only to avoid being suffocated in dresses” Y/N shivers in disgust at the thought causing Caitlyn to laugh once more.  “Oh and don’t forget the hair”  Caitlyn chuckles. 

“She would be devastated to see you cut your hair so short”  Caitlyn smiles whilst running her fingers through her sister’s now short yet neat hair.  “I can imagine the lecture I would receive about it, something along the lines of, ‘a Kiramman woman must be elegant and beautiful, not run around looking broody like a man’” the two laugh imagining their mother lecturing them. 

The laughter slowly dies down, “She never forgot about you, even kept your room exactly the same”  Caitlyn spoke in the silence.  Y/N looks down, slowly pulling out a pocket watch with the Kiramman crest, the silver shining brightly against the light.  Y/N stared at it before carefully opening it revealing a family photo when they we much younger, “I never thought I’d be back here, I could always picture the look of sadness on her face, and it broke me time and time again.”  Y/N’s words were raw, her voice hoars as a lump formed in her throat.

She pulls her little sister in for another hug, her presence calming her once more. “You ready to go out there?”  Caitlyn gestures to the door, both women knowing their girlfriends we on the other side and had possibly heard the whole fight.  “Does it make a difference whether I am or not?”  Y/N shakes her head as Caitlyn gets to her feet offering a hand to the younger of the two.  “Now or never” Caitlyn continues, “Yeah, I owe her an explanation”  Y/N looks down sombrely, “She has always been so honest with me about her past, about what she had done…I’m a hypocrite”  Y/N takes the hand offered to her, rising to her feet, now standing almost a head taller than her sister. 

They head to the door together before exiting the room, feeling eyes on her Y/N looks up, Y/E/C meeting pink.  “Hey” Jinx says softly, stepping forward as she picks at her nails.  “Toots I’m so sorry I-“ Jinx is cut off with a chaste kiss. 

“It hurts but it was a long time ago, neither of us knew that it was my mother” Y/N reassures with tear glossed eyes.

Y/N takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of trepidation, glancing at Caitlyn who nods encouragingly.  “Maybe we should sit for this”  She leads them back to the small living room where they had all previously been in, taking residence on the small table whilst Caitlyn and Vi share a chair leaving Jinx to use the other positioned in front of Y/N.

“Do you remember what I told you about my past?”  Y/N asks Jinx, taking her hands in her own, fiddling with her fingers.  “I mean it wasn’t a lot just that you were different from your family and that you didn’t belong” Jinx’s hand reaches up to cup Y/N’s cheek to comfort her the latter leaning into the warmth. 

“Precisely, I am the second born Kiramman daughter, my mother is” Y/N pauses, letting out a sigh, “was council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Caitlyn is my elder sister however…we do not share the same father”  Both Caitlyn and Y/N looks to each other for reassurance.

“Many of the people affiliated with my family begun to look down at my mother, saying she was unfaithful.  It was plain out obvious that I was not human, after all what human child had pointed ears and a tail?”  At this Vi looks up confused, “Tail?”  she tilts her head as the other three chuckle.  “Yes, I have a tail, I prefer to tuck it away” Y/N smiles at Vi who nods in understanding.

“As I was saying, my birth had tarnished my mother and the Kiramman name, it wasn’t her fault but yet she had to live with the consequences” Y/N’s frustration grew but Jinx was there to dissipate it, her touch along grounded her.  “My father he…he forced himself on my mother and as a result I was conceived”  Y/N finishes looking down with tears in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was the legitimate child of the Kiramman blood line whilst I was the half breed baseborn”   Tears slowly escape with Jinx being quick to wipe them away guiding her to look her in the eye.  “It’s okay toots, I’ve got you”  she comforted with a small smile.  “I desperately tried to bring pride to our family name but I was forever the burden, don’t get me wrong my family loved me unconditionally, even Tobius raised me as his own, but it didn’t change the fact that whilst I was present my family would be shunned” 

“Y/N” Caitlyn chokes out, her heart breaks hearing how her sister truly feels, Y/N was always the rock between the two, always eager to support her sister in any way possible, the strong one.  And now, now to hear that her little sister was breaking truly hurt her. 

Y/N looks over to Caitlyn, their eyes meeting, “The only way to save the family was for me to disappear, make everyone believe I was truly gone.  And so I did…I faked my death and fled the city, swore I’d never come back” The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace.  Caitlyn’s face was etched with pain and regret, her eyes welling up with tears.  Vi’s expression is a mix of shock and compassion, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face.

Jinx slowly pulls her lover into her arms, Y/N quick to nuzzle into her neck trying her best not to completely break down. 

Other Parts

[thevampiremarie]

Summertime Sadness (part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Later’s better than never… right?

Ten years ago, Simon and you met at the same therapeutic boarding school. You fought, he said some shit, he left. He thought he’d never see you again.

Until one day, a hospital calls and informs him that you’ve listed him as your emergency contact.

(title from the song by Lana Del Rey)

-

Tags: mental illness, abuse, addiction, self harm, suicidality/suicidal ideation/suicide attempts, angsty shit in general, Ghost being very mean as a fucked up 17 year old boy

There’s an old battered flip phone he hides in the back of his locker wherever he’s deployed. Ghost doesn’t turn it on all that often. Everyone who knows the number is dead.

But sometimes he does, just to stare at the contacts and click through the photos and remember what it was like to talk to them.

Today is one of those days.

He can only take so much talk from his team about families, friends, dogs waiting back home, and pretty girls before feeling the urge to break things.

So he excuses himself to hide in the bathroom like a fucking pussy and takes the phone with him. Simon can pretend he’s waiting for his own phone call from people who love him for a few minutes. Then he promises himself that he’ll put it away and not touch it for another six months.

It takes forever to power on. It’s still janky from the last time Ghost threw it at a wall, it seems.

One (1) missed call.

…What?

They left a voicemail.

His fingers shake as he listens to it.

There’s a long, tinny beep. “Hi, Mr. Riley, I’m…” A woman says in a rushed, businesslike manner. “I’m one of the nurses at-“ Ghost hears a bustle of background noise; faint murmurs, emergency sirens, doors sliding open and shut. “…Hospital. I’m calling because a friend of yours,” The nurse says your name. A name he hasn’t thought about in years. “…Put you down as her emergency contact when we admitted her to our psychiatric inpatient ward. Unfortunately, she did not provide us with anyone else. Please give me a call back at this number if you’d like to speak with her.” Click.

Ghost starts packing an overnight bag before he even realizes it.

Then he’s on a plane.

-

TEN YEARS AGO

“I hate you.”

You’re crying as you run after him in the forest. He speeds up, trying to lose you in the trees. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon. I’ll never bring it up again.” Snot covers your upper lip and your eyes are bright with tears.

He hates this fucking place. He hates this fucking school, the kilometers of wilderness separating him from his life because the fucking shrinks think he’s crazy. He hates you for trying to keep him here.

And just when Simon was about to fly the coop, you spilled the beans. “Leave me the fuck alone. Never, ever, ever talk to me again,” He barks, stopping abruptly and turning to loom over you.

When you reach for his hand, he slaps you away. “But you promised you wouldn’t leave-“ You end up on the ground, the pine needles biting into your bare knees as if Simon shoved you.

That makes him angrier. You’re too soft for a world like this. You’re practically begging for someone to hurt you again, someone like him, with your vulnerability and open, bleeding heart. Well, he’ll fucking oblige. You’re not strong like you think you are. You’re the weakest person he knows, and weakness is something Simon could never respect.

“I lied. I fucking lied, you dumb bitch. Didn’t you realize it?” Simon snarls, wishing desperately he’d never let you befriend him on his first day at this therapeutic program.

You're sunshine and innocence and friendship bracelets, the kind of girl who will always be a victim because this world devours little girls like you. Simon is nothing like you. Simon is a survivor. A warrior. Simon is steel where you are china.

Your American accent is almost as unbearable as your pathetic weeping. “…What?” Your bottom lip wobbles.

Hopefully this will teach you a lesson about tattling. Nobody likes a snitch. “Forever doesn’t fucking exist. You were the only tolerable person in this shithole, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be friends forever. What are you, a fucking infant? God, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” If anything, Simon is letting you off easy. You told the counselor things Simon told you in confidence about his dad because you were ‘afraid for his safety.’

But you just don’t get it. Simon can’t spend another day here. And the longer he stays, the angrier his dad will get. You just earned him another week of shit and black eyes.

“Newsflash. People lie. Everyone’s been lying to you. Nobody likes you, not even your mum. And I can’t stand you. You were useful, but I don’t need you anymore. I’m better,” Simon hisses as cruelly as he can, using every blade in his arsenal to cut at the sensitive parts of you where he knows you’ll bleed. Just like you did when you told.

You’re only stuck in this place because your mum left you here. You don’t have anyone, not like he does. He has Tommy and his mum. He has a future. You’ve got absolutely fucking nothing.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I’m getting out of here. I don’t need your help. I’d tell you to keep it, but it wouldn’t even help you.” Simon pauses. You’ve stopped crying. Good. A crying fox is easy prey for the hunting dogs. “They won't believe you. And you wanna know why?” It feels good to be the hunter instead of the fox for once. You make excellent prey.

“‘Cause I told them the truth. That you’re an obsessed freak who’s hyper fixated on me and you’d do anything to keep me here. That you’re a sick, compulsive liar and that you’re the one who’s a danger to herself, not me.”

You fall silent. Finally, blessed silence. You look up at Simon with glazed eyes and a still tongue. He feels better. Good, even.

“Goodbye. I hope I never see you again,” Simon says flatly.

-

TODAY

You picked a good place to get yourself locked up in. This is one of the nicest hospitals Ghost has been in recently. Shiny floors, no dirt caking the walls. New York City puts Kabul and Moscow to shame.

He’s wearing a plain black balaclava. Nothing identifying or particularly memorable. This is going to be a short visit. Ghost will see what you want and then leave. That’s it.

You look tired, exhausted to the very bone.

None of the shiny pinkness that drew Ghost to you in the beginning when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. None of the glow, the round cheeks, the wide doe eyes.

There’s dark circles chiseled into your face, so dark he almost thinks they’re bruises. A couple of IV bags run through a drip hidden under bandages covering your arms from wrist to elbow. Your eyes are as quiet as you are. A couple of marbles would be more lively. You look almost like a doll forgotten in a corner.

The nurse gave Ghost the run-down as she guided him to your bed. Police picked you up on a bridge trying to off yourself. Your fifth time this year. Unless you show some real improvement, the doctors will recommend an indefinite hospitalization.

You’ve been busy in the decade of his absence. Multiple addictions, more attempts than he can count, and some small stints in jail. A list of disorders he wouldn’t know how to pronounce. And nobody left to call.

Is this his fault?

When Ghost rounds the corner, you smile like he should be proud of you. “You came,” You say.

I have absolutely no business starting a new fic. Absolutely none. Idk. I have brainrot. No clue when this will be updated. But here, have it.

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb one

Series Summary: Remus has a choice to make: his new boyfriend Sirius or his recently no longer ex girlfriend, Y/N. But when Y/N's world begins crumbling, Remus wants to be there for her. So he makes a decision... Continue dating his boyfriend behind his girlfriend's back.

Blurb Title: Reconnecting on the Train

Pairing: ex!Remus x reader, Remus x Sirius, eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: none

blurb series navigation here

1. Reconnecting on the Train

You sat up as the train pulled into King’s Cross Station. This school year was going to be good, hopefully. You had already taken your NEWTs last year because what else did you have to do in a safehouse but study? So all you had to do was relax this year. You looked out the window, coming face to face with a very tall, plus size redhead and next to her, an equally tall blonde with a bob. They did charades to try and ask if anyone else was in your compartment or the one right next to yours. You weren’t even finished shaking your head before they booked it.

They breathed out sighs of relief as they plopped down on the seats before disappearing the wall between the two compartments so you were one big room. The train benches were arranged to be in a square formation with an opening for the door. 

The blonde with the spiky bob stuck out a hand. “Marlene McKinnon. 7th year.” 

“Y/N L/N. 7th year also.” 

A gasp echoed out. On the other side of James, Sirius froze up. His hand held on tighter to the taller boy next to him. He brought Remus’ hand to his lips, kissing it gently. How dare you show up here of all places? He was the main one to spend countless nights comforting the man when you left him. He had been the one to help put everything back together again and you were coming back to ruin it. 

You felt the train bench shake a little bit as one of the boys on the bench with golden brown hai— “Remus?” 

“Y/N?” 

James went wide-eyed. “Wait, that Y/N…” 

You both dug through your bags, pulling out polaroids sent years ago. Remus had to be sure. You held them up to each other’s faces for comparison. He looked different in only a year. The two of you were definitely the same people in your photos though. You were confused when his expression hardened at confirming it was you. 

“What are you doing here? You stopped writing. For months.” 

“I’m so sorry, babe.” 

Sirius laughed from behind Remus. “That’s it. I’m sorry?”  

You blinked twice, a bit taken aback by the hostility from his friends. “I’ve been a bit busy.” 

“Busy? So the rest of us just don’t have jack shit in our lives?” 

Fiddling with your hands a bit, you sighed. “Remus, can I talk to you alone?” 

“I’m sorry but until I get answers, you have to understand that it’s a little hard for me to just go anywhere with you.” 

“I’m a refugee. The MACUSA sent every new-maj into hiding because of Voldemort. Our schools grabbed us and our families in the middle of the night. We weren’t allowed to contact anyone outside. My family was rushed here because they got attacked. I’ve been separated from everyone else for their safety.” 

“Y/N, are you okay? Are they okay?” Remus’ face softened. 

His chest tightened as you shook your head. Honestly, you’d been putting on a brave face, telling him as much. You wanted to be a rock and a calming presence for your family during this time. And over the months, you’ve made peace with everything that’s happened. You understand it but you don’t feel like you’ve had a chance to be emotional about it. Remus jumped to his feet and pulled you into a hug when the tears started to fall. He rested his head against yours and rocked you back and forth. 

“I wanted to write to you. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I only found out two weeks ago that the UK was taking us in so I just decided to surprise you.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was that bad. Your letters before never…” 

“I know. I tried to keep everything positive for you. I’m sorry if I made you worried.” 

“Stop apologizing. It’s alright. You’re here now. Safe… Y/N, do you want to go to the observation car, calm down a little? No one’s really in there, I promise. I’ll come get you in a moment, okay?” 

You smiled. That’s what you loved about your boyfriend. He was understanding and patient about the lack of letters. You nodded and handed him your stuff. He pointed out the observation car and waited for you to leave his sight before closing the carriage door. 

Remus groaned. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” 

Sirius adamantly shook his head, offended that he would dare suggest that. “You didn’t know. I can’t believe she still thinks you’d be together after she left without a word.” 

“Sirius.” 

“He’s kind of right,” Regulus spoke up. “If I had disappeared for months, how could I possibly expect my partner to not move on?” 

“She’s just not like that. We’ve talked about her friends’ relationships before.” 

“That seems selfish.” 

A lot of the train agreed.

Peter opened up his can of Fizzing Whizbee. “Just break up with her… again.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why? Do you still love her?” 

“No,” Remus answered without hesitation. “Feelings are long gone.” 

“Then why not?” 

“Y/N is fragile right now. Our relationship is her only stability. I feel like if I break up with her right now, it’ll shatter her.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” Sirius said. “I know we haven’t announced ourselves to the school yet but this relationship means something to me. This might sound awful but I don’t care. I don’t care what she’s been through enough to leave you. I had to pick up your heart when she wasn’t there. She can’t just take you from me.” 

“I don’t want to leave you either… Just let me make sure she’s on her feet then we’ll be over. Okay, love?” 

“How long?” 

“When we start the second semester? Is that okay with you?” 

Sirius thought about it for a considerable time. “Fine. Nothing can stop me from kissing you in broom closets, though.” 

Mary put away her crossword puzzles to grab a book instead. “You do know that she’ll want to be our friend, right?” 

Remus nodded. “I’m not saying to not be friends with her. She’ll fit right in here, I know it. I’d like to be friends with her if we can split amicably. Just don’t tell her about Sirius and I, let us break up naturally.” 

“Can do.” 

“Thank you… Love, do you have any rules for me?” 

Sirius thought for a moment. “Can you try not to be intimate with her? Just never initiate it. Kisses are fine, I expect that. You can even flirt. I won’t think anything of it. It’ll be like you and Lily or Mary. But no large gestures. And no calling her love or starshine or sweetheart. Those are my pet names, she’ll have to find her own.”  

The rest of the train ride wasn’t sat in uncomfortable silence but social conversation. You put your headphones back in and pulled out the crochet project you were working on. Your boyfriend looked over at you, tapping your ankle incessantly until you finally looked up and took out your earbuds. 

“Yeah, babe?” 

“Do you want anything from the trolley?” 

“Um, no, I’m good. I’m on a tight budget for now. I’ll just get another water.” You looked down in betrayal when your stomach grumbled.

“Here.” Sirius handed you a to-go bowl filled to the brim with salad. He gave Remus a sandwich filled with basically just meat. A favorite near the full moon. 

“Thank you,” you said with such kindness that he wanted to roll his eyes. You leaned into your boyfriend to exaggerate a whisper. “Your friends are really nice.” 

The train finally stopped at the Hogsmeade Station. You were beginning to buzz with excitement as you sat under the Sorting Hat. Your uniform changed from gray and white to splashes of red and gold as you made your way to a clapping table. A note plopped into your lap halfway through late lunch/early dinner. 

Back to School Party: 1st-4th year in Gryffindor Common Room. 5th-7th in Slytherin. 

When dinner ended, you didn’t want to follow the first years so you went with your train buddies that were in Gryffindor, trusting that you’d eventually find your room.  

“Oh.” 

Marlene and Mary turned to you. “What is it?” 

“My key has the number eleven on it too.” 

The girls ushered you into their, now your, dorm room. The other girls looked at each other as you unpacked in less than fifteen minutes. It was kind of sad and brought them to the reality that while they were worried about Voldemort and war, some people were already living it. 

You sat down on your bed. “So, what do you normally wear for parties?” 

“I don’t know about Ilvermorny but it’s about dressing hot.” 

You looked at your wardrobe. “How long do I have?”

| next blurb here |

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[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 16

Summary: You meet more of the Greene family as you begin to adventure around the house, and end up trapped in a confrontation with Lori of all people. She's suspicious and cold as she warns you to stay away from Shane. In a flashback, you're sick and tired of Daryl's missed calls, the kiss he had with your friend. So you decide to go to the Dixon residence to confront him, only to be left with an empty feeling of the end of a friendship.

notes: sorry for the multiple chapters in a day lol I'm just excited to be writing again! these chapters have me so emoshie lately

no warnings apply, lmk if I've missed any

x flash forward x

After a few minutes of closing your eyes in the bed, you begin to sit up, sick of laying there any longer. Wrapping the thin sheet around your body, you lightly swing your feet to the side of the bed, where the hard wood is warm under your touch from the sun peeking in through the drapes. Keeping both eyes on your feet, you begin to rise out of the bed, your legs sore from not moving the past few days.You reach out to steady yourself, fingers gripping the cool metal of the footboard.  As you carefully take more steps, you look out the window into the sunlit yard. Leaning up against the warm glass, you take in the farm that seems to stretch far for acres. 

The tree line along the edge of the property feels familiar—must be where you came from when searching for Sophia with Rick and Shane. Your eyes land on the RV parked beyond the house, and you spot some of your group: Andrea, Glenn, Dale, and Carol, all busy setting up tents. An older man stands by an old blue truck, talking to Rick and Shane. Daryl’s there too, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, Your palm itches with the memory of his kiss. 

Before you can dwell on it, the door to your room creaks open.

A woman with cropped brown hair and bright green eyes enters, carrying a heap of folded clothes. She stops short when she sees you standing, a quick apology slipping from her lips.

"Didn’t think you’d be up and about just yet,” her Georgia accent is thick, and she approaches you gently, holding out the pile of clothing in her arms, “Looks like you might be needin’ these. They’re mine, hope you don’t mind. Didn’t think you’d fit into Beth’s anymore,”

“Beth?” you ask quietly, taking the clothing with one arm while your other hand clutches at the sheets around you. Your brows furrow as you look up to her with your question.

“My little sister,” she smiles at you, “I’m Maggie,”

“Y/N,” you reply simply.

“I know,” she breathes a little laugh, “you’ve been the talk of the house for quite a few days now,” you smile back at her, and turn to set the clothes on the bed.

“I’ll give you a moment and make ya a plate of lunch,” she excuses herself out the door. 

Lunch?

Eventually, you make your way out of the bedroom, the hinges squeaking as you close the door behind you. The clothes Maggie gave you fit well, and you were surprised when even the bootcut jeans sat comfortably on your waist. The green halter top leaves your shoulders bare, and drapes loosely on your body. 

The floorboards creak under your steps as you slowly walk through the house. It’s a cozy, lived-in space, so different from the world outside. The photos lining the walls show Maggie with her family—brothers, sisters, parents. The house was too quiet, you knew not all of them were here anymore. Your gaze lingers on a large framed picture, the smiles frozen in time before everything went to hell. Maggie looks younger, happier, the light in her eyes brighter than it was today.

Your head turns as you hear a clattering in the kitchen. As you turn the corner into the room, you see Lori and Maggie standing in the kitchen. Lori is over the sink, scrubbing dishes while Maggie looks to be cutting something up on a plate. When she sees you, she cracks a small smile, pushing the plate across the island countertop.

“Hope you like peanut butter and jelly,” her smile widening. 

You nod and step closer, your mouth watering as you take in the sandwich with strawberries and carrots on the side. They look like they’ve come straight from a home garden. 

“Thanks,” you say quietly, and bring the sandwich up to your mouth. The simple taste feels like a small luxury. 

Lori glances over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning back to the sink. There's something cold in the way she looked at you, like she was sizing you up. Maggie, oblivious to the tension, continues wiping the counters, and then she suddenly turns and heads out the kitchen and through the front door. As you’re finishing your plate, you slowly make your way over to the sink where Lori is still working. When you stop beside her, you lay the plate down warily by the side of the sink. You watch her for a moment, studying her long dark hair with bangs that cover her eyes from this angle. 

“Lori, how are you?” you ask quietly. She’s hard to read, and you can’t tell why she has been so cold to you from the start, “How’s Carl?” you add. 

Her eyes flicker up to you, “You and Shane have known each other a long time, haven’t you?” she doesn’t answer either of your questions. Her voice is tense, and she looks back down to the pot in her soapy hands.

You stand straight, caught off guard, “Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together,” 

There’s an edge to Lori’s smile, something that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "I noticed."

For a moment, there's a heavy silence, the tension between you is palpable. She looks up at you again, longer this time, as if you’re being studied.

“You saw us talking, didn’t you? At the CDC? At the church?” Lori asks, her voice too calm. It’s a question, but also an accusation.

Your chest tightens. You don't answer right away, unsure of where this is going. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just—”

“It’s just funny,” Lori cuts you off, her tone still sharp but measured, she looks down again at her dishes, resting her hands tensely on either side of the sink, leaning now. “You’re always around when Shane’s involved. Almost like you’re still part of whatever he had going on before everything changed.”

You frown suddenly, feeling the tension grow. "I don’t know what you mean by that."

Lori pauses her scrubbing again, her expression hardening. “I don’t know what you two had before, and frankly, I don’t care. But whatever it was, it ends now.”

You bristle, feeling a mix of confusion and defensiveness rising in yourself, “There’s nothing going on, Lori. Shane and I—our history is done. I don’t know what he told you, but–”

Lori’s eyes narrow, her voice dropping to a cold edge. "I don’t know what’s going on, but ever since you showed up, Shane’s been different, and you’re too close to comfort. And honestly? I don’t wanna know why you and Daryl can’t seem to stay out of each other’s orbit. Y’all are joined at the damn hip.” 

Your throat tightens. You try to find the words, but Lori is wiping her hands off now with a cloth, shaking her head.

"Just stay away from my family," Lori finishes coldly before walking off, leaving you standing in the kitchen, speechless.

x flashback x

It's been a couple days since you met with Shane. You’d been ignoring his calls–not that he called much these days. But when he did, you let your phone sit unanswered. You were angry and frustrated with him. How he didn’t care about your deepest friendship, and things had only gotten more confusing between you, him, and Daryl. You thought about the night a week ago or so ago when Daryl was kissing Dana and the calls he left unanswered since then. Except for the other day, when he barely spoke two words to you.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you’re in a cab, hoping to see him. You spent your last remaining cash to go all the way home. Hoping to get answers.

As you pulled up outside the Dixon place, the familiar rusted-out cars and scattered tools are exactly how you remember them. The house looked like it hasn’t changed at all, but something feels different. Colder, maybe. You spotted Merle on the porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched you step out of the car. His eyes were sharp, always calculating. You closed the cab door behind you, leaning in to give the driver your cash. Turning around, you see Merle still watching you.

“Well, look who’s come back from the land of the learnin’,” he said with a smirk, standing up from his chair. “What, they kick ya out already?”

You rolled your eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it. “Where’s Daryl?”

Merle chuckled, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “He’s around. Ain’t gonna be too happy seein’ ya, though. College girl like you don’t belong in a place like this no more.”

You frowned, walking toward the porch. “Cut the crap, Merle. You know why I’m here.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Daryl’s been actin’ all squirrelly, huh? Bet you’re wonderin’ what’s got his panties in a twist.” He stepped down from the porch, his voice softening just a little. “But I’ll tell ya one thing—he ain’t been himself lately.”

“What do you mean? Where is he?” you asked, quieter now.

Before Merle could reply, the door swung open, and Daryl stepped out. His hair hung in his face, and the bruise you saw at Henderson’s has turned a nasty yellow and green on his eye. You froze, taking in the sight of him, and your heart sank. What the hell happened to him?

“Daryl,” you called out, but he didn't look at you. He walked past you, not saying a word, heading toward the shed like you were invisible.

Without thinking, you followed him, your emotions bubbling over, “You’re just gonna walk away? After everything?”

He didn’t answer, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. You grabbed his arm, his skin hot under your touch. His arm tensed in your grip as he spun around to face you. 

“Talk to me, Daryl! What is going on with you?”

His eyes flickered with something—pain, maybe anger—but he quickly pulled his arm free. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”

“Nothing?” you scoffed, your voice rising. “You kiss my friend at a bar, ignore me for weeks, and then I come back to see you like this? Don’t lie to me, Daryl. What happened?”

Daryl’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you think he might actually tell you. But then his eyes hardened, looking away, and he shook his head. “You don’t belong here no more. Just go back to school.”

His words hit like a slap to the face. “Don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice softer. “Don’t push me away. I’m not gonna leave you.”

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, turning away again. “You got a whole new life now. Ain’t no place for you here.”

Your throat tightened, eyes burning with the threat of tears, “Is this because of Shane?” you asked, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You know something happened between them, you just don’t know what.

Daryl froze, his back still to you, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away.

You stepped closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Why won’t you just tell me? Did he do somethin’? Is this jealousy? I thought we were past all that–”

“I ain’t jealous of no one!” his fists clenched at his sides. You reached out your hand, almost brushing up against his arm again.

“Then, please. Just tell me what’s going on.”

He reeled back, and for a second, it felt like he might’ve broken, like the weight of it all was too much. His chest heaved as he stared at you with daggers, like he could scream. But then he stepped away from you, his voice low and rough. “Ain’t your problem. Just... go.”

Tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk away, his figure disappearing into the shed. You stood there, the ache in your chest growing, feeling like you’ve lost him for good.

[redroomreflections]

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs too.

W/c: 5.9k

chapter 1

You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.

You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.

“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.

Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.

Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.

“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.

It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.

You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.

Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.

“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.

“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.

“Can we get her flowers?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”

It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.

**************************

There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.

You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.

“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.

“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.

“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.

“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.

“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.

“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”

“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.

IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.

When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.

“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.

“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.

“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”

“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”

“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.

“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.

“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.

“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.

“I’ll take a water, thank you,”

“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.

You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.

“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.

“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.

“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”

“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.

Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.

“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”

“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.

“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”

“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”

“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”

“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.

***********************************

When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.

“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.

“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.

“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.

“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”

“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”

“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.

“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.

“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.

“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.

“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”

“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.

“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.

“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.

“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.

It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.

“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.

“Nope,” You nod.

“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”

“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”

“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?

“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”

“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.

“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”

“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”

“At least she knows,” You comment.

“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.

*******************************************************

The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”

“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.

“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”

“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.

“That’s the one,” You nod.

“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”

“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”

“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.

“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.

“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.

“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.

The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.

“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.

“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”

“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”

“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.

“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”

You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.

“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”

“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”

“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.

For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.

******************************

A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.

Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.

“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.

“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”

“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.

They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.

“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.

“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.

“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.

“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.

“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”

“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”

“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”

“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.

Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.

On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.

@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.

@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?

@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.

*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****

----> next part

[panda-writes-kpop]

TWICE - Reaction to S/O Cuddling A Plushie (Requested!)

A/N: We're back to two uploads a week since I'm trying to clear my WIP before December 1st! I want to take a small hiatus for the week before and of exams plus I can spend time with family and friends for a bit without having a bunch of stress and extra responsibilities.

Also, to the lovely anon that requested this since I no longer have that request - I am so happy that my works bring you peace and happiness. I know what it’s like to go through rough periods, trust me, I’ve been through my fair share. There is light at the end of the tunnel, and I promise the future will be so much better than your present. I can’t promise that the road will be easy, or that you won’t want to give up, but stick it out, okay? My writing will always be here for you to enjoy, and I’m so glad I could bring you some peace of mind during a rough part of your life. Wishing you all the love and joy that the world can possibly bring your way. <3

TW: None!

♡ Masterlist ♡

100% teases you by pretending to be jealous

“Ah, well, I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to cuddle since you’re busy.” 

She blushes like crazy when you pull her into your arms along with your plushie

“Yah, I was joking, baby!”

Completely unbothered by the presence of a stuffed animal

Happily accepts the cuddles, and she gives your stuffed animal a boop on the nose in approval

She may tease you about it if you’re okay with it

“Do you mind if I hold you as well, or are you a little too… preoccupied at the moment?”

Otherwise she’ll wrap an arm around you and stare at you lovingly as you hold your plushie

“You’re adorable, honey. Have I ever told you that?”

Definitely does not notice until she’s in your arms and feels the plushie digging into her back

“What are you poking me fo- Oh, it’s your plushie!”

Will apologize to said plushie or the guilt will eat at her all day

“I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Will hold the plushie along with you as long as you let her do so

Immediately pulls out her phone and starts taking pictures

“Smile, my love!”

And then she sets the photo as her screensaver and your contact photo

Will want to get in on the cuddles with said plushie

“You’ll let me cuddle with the two of you, right?”

It warms her heart to see you happy, especially if you’re on edge a lot or have been going through a rough period

She won’t disturb you as you cuddle in peace, but she may check up on you if your plushie is a comfort animal for your rougher days

“Is everything alright, babe? Do you want to talk about anything?”

She’ll happily observe you and the plushie from afar unless you invite her to join… who is she to say no to that?

“Of course I’ll join you! I missed you while I was at work all day, you know, and I like when we can just relax like this.”

Her heart internally combusts as her face externally combusts

You’re too adorable for her heart to handle sometimes, but she rarely admits it

“I like seeing you happy with your plushie… it makes me happy too.”

Will buy you matching plushies for your birthday if you’re a plushie fan

“I know you like the plushie you have… but I got matching ones for us so you’ll always be with me and I’ll always be with you.”

Definitely teases you a lot and/or makes jokes

“It’s only been eight hours and I’ve been replaced… I see how it is, then.”

You know she’s joking by the way she grins and laughs when you scoff at her.

Settles by your side and lays her head on your shoulder as you hold her hand while holding your plushie

A sweet, toothy smile breaks out on her face.

“I love you so, so much, and I hope you know that.”

You are simply too cute for her to handle!

She tries to sneakily take a picture, but you catch her in the act.

“Sorry, baby! You just looked so cute with that plushie…”

Enjoys just being in the room with you while you cuddle your plushie because the sweet, soft vibes cannot be replicated when Chaeyoung is by herself

She leans against the doorframe and just… observes with a lovesick smile.

Your child-like glee really comes out when you cuddle your plushie, and if you rarely show that side of you off, Tzuyu just wants to enjoy that part of you while it’s present.

“Do you mind if I join you, love?”

You invite her to sit next to you, and you place one of her hands on the plushie as she plays with your hair with her free hand.

She’s mostly quiet while enjoying the moment with you, but she will talk to you if you want to talk with her.

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

hi! was looking for park chan yeong, and saw your post 🤩 are your requests still open? Could you write something about chan yeong getting really hurt 😭 and then fem!reader taking care of him 🥺? Please 🙏 (english is not my first language, sorry for any mistake and if my ask is not very much to understand)

Chan Yeong X fem reader

Genre: idk honestly 😭

Small summary : After cleaning your small room/living space that you had in the survivors shelter/camp as you decided to read a book as you waited for your boyfriend Park Chan Yeong to arrive

(This one might be short I want to try to get 2 done before taking a nap since I’m not feeling well☹️)

It was some time after noon as you finished rearranging your book shelf, as it was filled with all kinds of books since Park Chan Yeong always make it his priority to bring back at least two books for me to try out

Letting out a soft sigh as you stood to your feet , stretching you arms as you felt your muscles become relaxed , once you got a good stretch

Your eyes quickly scan the small room , there wasn’t much , on the right side of the room , you had a bookshelf that have three shelves full of books , a old broken down dresser that was still useful for your clothes

Looking to the left side of the room , which contained your full sized bed , a small nightstand that had a small lap that lift up the left side of the room

Min the middle there was a small table , which you had your remaining makeup , bottles of water , sketches that you drew out of boredom , pencils that were scattered over the table and a framed photo of you and Chan Yeong

Walking towards the small table that sat in the middle of the room as you pick up the small framed photo , as the corner of your lips start to form in to a small smile

The picture was taken a month before the apocalypse started , you were facing the camera , with a huge smile while you eyes looked as if they sparked through the photo

As Cha Yeong had his arms wrapped around your waist , head hiding in your neck.. you couldn’t tell in the picture but he was also holding a huge smile almost as big as yours , while you held your small poodle in your arms

It was a happy family photo is what you always thought to yourself , slightly smiling as you sit the picture frame back on in its place on the small table

Letting out a small yawn as you head for your bed , heading back for your book shelve , quickly choosing a book as you head for your full sized bed

Climbing in bed as you wrap the warm comforter around your body , quickly opening your book where you last left off as you start to read in silence , ignoring out any noises that came from the hallways

As you were so invested in your book that you didn’t notice the bed room door slowly creek open , as the unknown figure slowly walks into the room , not looking up until you heard some one let out groan a of pain

Quickly sitting your book next to you on the bed as you turn to see a cut and bruised Park Chan Yeong , standing to your feet as you rush to Yeong in a hurry , carefully grabbing both sides of his cheeks in your hands as you turn his head left and right quietly examining Chan Yeong’s face not noticing as he loves at you with love

Grabbing a hold of his arm as you quickly pull him towards the bed giving him a slight push as he falls to a seating position, eyes watching as you head for the dresser , taking out a first ad kit from the very top drawer , quickly heading for Chan Yeong as you sit on his lap carefully as you place each leg at his side coming face to face with Chan Yeong

Silently looking down as you open the first ad kit , grabbing a cotton ball as you pour a good amount of disinfectant, carefully taking the cotton ball as you softly dab the cut that was at the right corner o his lip

Taking a new cotton ball as you do the same with the disinfectant now cleaning the cut above his eyes which seemed to lose lots of blood

Once you were finished you take a bit of ointment to put over the now clean cuts , as tears starts to build in your eyes , also why falling down your checks as you think of something bad happening to Cha Yeong that would leave you all alone

As if sensing your thoughts Chan Yeong slowly raise his right hand as he softly wipes away your tears

“I’m okay..don’t cry” Chan Yeong says as he gives your check as soft kiss , softly pulling you into his in-brace as he lays back on the bed not letting you go once as your softly cry yourself to sleep knowing that he was now safe with you

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Dia De Los Muertos 18+ Taiju Shiba x Fem Reader Halloween Collab: 31 days of Horror w/ @fuyuswifey Resident: @enchantedforest-network Masterlist WC:2.7k TW: Angst, N/sfw, death, illness, making out, Fingering, slight masturbation, Penetration, Taiju being rough, orgasm,pet names, breast sucking, hickies, creampie, suggestive language and suggestive them (unedited) MINORS DNI

“She is late again..” He looked at his watch as it was close to 6 o'clock. Sticking his hands in his pocket he took off of work early to celebrate something that meant something very special to you. He never celebrated something like this before. Taiju walked to the glass shelf in his living room where a photo of his mother was placed. Looking at the photo for a moment a sudden rush of memories from his childhood came to him. The way his mother smiled, how soft her voice was, or the way she made his favorite dishes. When she became sick he wouldn’t let anyone see his weak side trying to be strong for his parents and his younger siblings. As he saw his mother's illness becoming worse he was mentally preparing himself for the worse. In a matter of weeks, his mother was gone from his life. All the emotions he had in him were locked up and never released. He never spoke about how he felt when his mother passed to anyone. He was hard on himself and his siblings at a young age. His father constantly works endless hours to provide for him and his siblings. He had to be the man of the house and he had to admit he wasn't a pleasant teen, his hardcore demeanor and ego getting the best of him. They all had their issues of being a dysfunctional family that they overcame as they got older, and periodically they would check up on one another as they got older.

Taiju picked up the photo of his mother, walking back with it as he sat on the couch. Thinking about if she was still around things would have been different. But that was a dream that would never come true. He heard the door knob jiggle and turned his head to see you open the front door “Sorry I know I’m late but I went to the store before going home.” you placed the bags on the floor as you closed the door. 

Taiju saw the bright orange flowers along with a few other items. “You know it’s just me and you right? Are you expecting more people?”  he raised his brow looking at the items than you. “I know but all this stuff is necessary! Help me with the bag please?” giving him a smile. He placed a photo of his mother on the coffee table as he got up to help you with the bags. Taking them into the large dining room. You had a table that was empty you were going to use.  Taiju saw how you began to decorate the table placing items in certain areas making it look as aesthetic as possible. He had some idea of what  Dia De Los Muertos was and what it stood for but the little things with the flowers and the mass amount of them piqued his curiosity. “Why marigolds?” He picked up one of the orange flowers twirling it by the stem. 

“Marigolds are traditionally the flowers used for Dia De Los Muertos. When you pair them with just the right candle they say the spirits can find their way back into the living world to see their loved ones on this specific night.” plucking the flower from his hand “you can feel the presence when they arrive it's like a sudden rush of comfort. That’s how I could explain it.” Taiju, hearing you explain it, was a bit skeptical. You were more open with your feelings and emotions compared to him. The saying opposites attract applied to you both when you guys started to see each other. You tried to make him open up more but you didn’t want to push him too. He hardly talked about his family to you since you could tell it was a topic he wasn’t comfortable with. But all you knew was his mother passing at a young age, his father always working and him having two siblings younger than him. In your bag, you pulled out a photo frame. Taiju looked over your shoulder to see the photo of your parents. It was a photo of their wedding day. “My mom said this was one of the best days of her life, she was marrying her best friend,” you remembered your mother's words. Every time she looked at this photo she would say those same exact words every time. Taiju saw the smile on your face begin to fade the more you looked at the photo. “She is now reunited with the love of her life.”  you tried to shake off the sadness you were displaying hiding it with a smile. You placed their photo on the decorated table. “Do you have your mother's photo?” you asked him. “Yeah let me grab it.”  He walked back to the coffee table picking up his mother's photo and bringing it back to where you were. He placed her photo next to your parents. “Your mother is beautiful.” you looked at her photo. Taiju’s sister Yuzuha took a lot after her mother.  

“Thank you.” in his pocket he pulled out something that belonged to his mother, he kept it with him since he was a kid. It was a necklace she would often wear. She gave each of her kids something before her passing. “This necklace was given to my mother by my father when they first started to date.” He placed the necklace right next to her photo. He missed her, he wished he had her for a bit longer in his life. You grabbed the match as you began to light the candles next to their photos. “What memory do you have of your mother that is special to you?” you asked him. You tried to pry a bit to see if he would respond. He stood silent for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to respond to your question. He let out a low sigh. In that time frame of you asking him the question he was thinking of one specific one. “I don’t know how old I was but I remember I didn’t want to go to school this was before she was sick.. She took Yuzuha and Hakkai to school and daycare. She ended up taking me to the Aquarium. It was empty in the Aquarium since it was a weekday with each exhibit in the Aquarium she would pronounce each fish in the tank and point them out….” he stopped for a moment then proceeded to speak “I remembered just being amazed she knew them all….she promised me she would do this again with me…..” he took a deep breath  “but then she got sick...”  his hands in his pocket as he looked at her photo then at you. You could sense that memory held a special moment for him. “Your mother would be proud of you Tai. You worked hard to get where you are for everything you have. You accomplished more than most people.” You reached for his hand. Taiju smirked, “Thanks, there is more I want to accomplish in my life but it will come later on…”

“You have your whole life planned out it seems.” you teased him. “Not all of it… There are some areas in my life that I’m still trying to figure out.” Taiju yellow orbs looked down at you. “Like what?” you blinked a few times. “Me and you, I'm still finding out so many things about you that I wasn’t aware of. Getting to know you more and more of you” he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, Tai there is much more. You are just getting a taste of it.” you chuckled he gave a low smirk sound. “Hopefully you would do the same. I want to know more about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked. “I… I want to know how you feel at times or what you are thinking about….” doing a dry swallow before continuing to speak “I noticed you don’t really let your guard down even when we are alone. I’m not sure if you think it's some kind of weakness to do so, I don’t think it is.  We have been together for some time now and being a couple we should be open with one another. I want to continue growing our relationship strong where we can come to one another whenever.” “Is that what you want?” Taiju looked at you. “I do more than anything,” you responded with a bashful tone. “You will have to give me time on that… I can’t do it all at once with a snap of a finger.” He had to make that point clear. “But I will try.” his hand reaches the top of your head bringing you a bit closer, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. You had a bit of a relieved smile on your face. “Thank you, Tai.” A few moments passed before Taiju got a whiff of something he hadn't smelled since he was a kid. The perfume his mother used to wear. Something came over him that felt what you described earlier: it was comforting and relaxed his body. ‘She is here’  looking at his mother's photo. He wasn’t expecting her presence to be this strong. It hit him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes and he got the image of his mother. He couldn’t hear what she was trying to say but he could read her lips. ‘I’m proud of you Taiju.’ his eyes shot open. It was becoming too much for him to handle all at once.  

You saw he looked a bit distressed “Taiju what's wrong?” you asked him. “I just… need some air, I’ll be back,” he said. He walked away towards the backyard.

You watched him head towards the backdoor. You assumed he felt his mother's presence. It would take him a moment for him to let it sink in. The cool brisk air hit him as he stepped outside. Lighting a cigarette to relax his nerves he kept replaying the image of his mother in his mind. All those years of blocking his emotions he couldn’t keep blocking this one. After the discussion he had with you that happened. “Fuck.. Is this your way of getting me to open up  to ______, Mom?” He looked at the sky as if he was waiting for a response from her. After about 30 minutes Taiju came back in, he took a seat in the living room. When you heard the back door closed you walked into the living room. “Tai? You okay?” you walked towards him. “I’m fine.” he looked at you, his hand was extended out to you, and he brought you to his lap. “What you said earlier... I felt it... I hadn’t felt her presence since the day she passed…it was a lot to handle…” “I see.. Tai, I know she is still watching over you even when you think she is not. You may not feel her all the time but she is there.” you gave him a soft smile, and your fingers ran through his hair.

He nodded “It gave me more conformations on what I want in my future.” he brought you closer to him. “What do you want?” asked him softly you looked into his eyes then his lips then back at his eyes. “You will have to stick around and find out.” Taiju’s hands rested on your hips. Both of you leaned as your lips met, you could taste the cigarette he smoked just a few minutes ago. Your arms drape around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, pressing you against his large chest. His tongue dominantly invaded your mouth. His hands roamed your body, his hands sliding up the hem of your dress touching your exposed soft skin. You nibbled on his bottom lip playfully would earned you a low groan coming from him, his hands found your panties pushing them to the side. “Such a good girl you are.” His large finger began rubbing between your damp folds. The moans spilled out of your mouth. “How does that feel? Do you want me to continue?” he spoke in a deep voice that was low. You nodded at his question. “I need to hear you say it. Come on, I know you can.” “Yes Tai~~~please continue~~~ mmmmmm” You were focused on his fingers. As he was making you squirm in his lap. You gripped his shoulders. The bulge began to form in his pants. You couldn’t help yourself as one of your hands began to rub his encaged cock. “Fuck.” he grunted as your hand continued to rub his clothed cock. “Tell me how bad do you want my cock deep inside you?” Taiju needed that bit of control at this moment as he slipped his finger into your wet cunt. “Shi~~~ mmm….” you couldn’t respond at that moment as his finger pumped into you. “Really bad Taijuuu~~~”  the moan lingers as you get to his name. “I want your cock in me~~~ please give it to me~~~” your glossy eyes looked into his. 

Hearing that desperation in your voice as you begged for his cock was more than enough for him. He slid his finger out from your moist warm cunt. He undid his pants letting his large thick cock out. The tip of his cock was damp due to the precum as you were rubbing him. You felt his tip rubbing against your pussy. Grazing against your throbbing clit. He continued to tease you for a moment. “I want you to look at me as my cock slides into that tight pussy of yours. You began to lower your hips as his cock began to penetrate you. “Don’t you dare close your eyes baby girl.” he let out a husky moan. You followed his orders as you kept your eyes on his. Your pussy was throbbing a bit as you were able to fully have him inside of you. It took you a moment to catch your breath. His hands rested on your hips as he began to help you move up and down his cock. 

“Taiju~~~” You moaned slightly, rocking your hips back and forth. 

Throwing his head back on the couch  “ Yes baby girl?” holding you steady. “Are you enjoying yourself?.” He pushed his pelvis up a bit more and he was pushing you down a bit harder. The slap of your skin began to fill the room. 

“Yes Taiju shit you're making me so wet,” your juices were sliding down his cock.

Taiju slid the traps of your dress down exposing your breast. He began to suck on your breast switching back and forth leaving hickies traveling up now to the neck leaving the same love bites. He loved leaving his mark on you. “Fuck I love you so much” his hand resting on the back of your head bring you to his lips as he began to kiss you hard. 

You couldn’t even say it back as his lips were dominating yours. The string of saliva broke you both separate from one another trying to catch your breath. Your forehead rested against his. “I love you Tai~~” 

“Say it again”  He moaned louder, moving you faster as he gripped your hips tighter. The intense sensation in his lower abdomen approached he wasn’t going to last much longer as the sweat trickled down his brow. You weren’t going to last much longer either.

“I - love you, Taiju Shiba.” You moaned the phrase over and over. Your body began to shake as the sudden rush of your orgasm approached. “Fuuuuccccckkkkkk!” 

The way your pussy constricted as your orgasm hit around his cock his hot seed shot in deep he pressed your hips down all the way on his cock as he let out a loud animal-like moan. He clenched his jaw tightly and poured every ounce of semen he had in his body into you. Only so much was able to fit into your cunt as some of it began to seep out from inside of you running down his own cock. Taiju's sudden rush was coming down his grip loosening on your hips. The look of satisfaction hitting his face as he his hand reaching for your chin brings you closer as placing a gentler kiss. 

Tags: @the-haitani-baton, @satanlovesusall666, @galactict3a, @ratlovecat, @niko-ash, @iluv-ace, @captainmycaptainn, @strawberrychrome, @missgab, @anxious-chick, @livefromraleigh, @kei-b-gurlll, @spookiisopium, @bontensbabygirl, @txna04, Interested in joining the taglist please fill out the form below to get a notification of your favorite characters when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

All of this, for a phonograph? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After having an odd dream and unexpectedly getting a promotion, you head down to the Underworld in some weird journey of self-discovery that ends up in a whole lot of chaos.

▸ Genre(s): fluff, angst

▸ Word Count: 16.6k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, violence, mentions of blood, crying, emetephobia tw, having to wake up early,

A/N: IM SO FUCKINGN TIRED.

I was not expecting to surpass my word count record. Anyways, sorry for the initial jankyness. I don’t write in present tense often

MOSSBALL MASTERLIST (psst more gepard here)

Sitting at a desk in front of a window, accompanied by a stained brass lamp and an old family photo you were certain had been lost (during the evacuation of Rivet Town), you watched the people of Belobog mill about the Alexandra Plaza beneath the setting sun.

You smile softly to yourself, laying your tired fountain pen to rest beside a variety of parchments that contained pictures of flowers you had never seen, and writing that didn’t quite make sense.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind to make you rise from your seat and tiptoe down the hallway towards the kitchen.

It was your kitchen, presumably.

The mahogany floorboards creaked softly in protest, but they were covered by the sound of the familiar sound of music coming from the phonograph you’d had as a child. It got louder the closer you got to the end of the hallway.

How you missed those old songs. You used to sit by the fireplace with a warm cup of milk, listening to the music while the flames flickered at you.

From the kitchen, golden light peeps through the doorway at you. Warm and comforting, it drips over the paintings and vases decorating the hallway.

It was so strange. This place felt like home, yet you had never seen it before in your entire life.

As you push open the door, your heart leaps and lodges itself directly in your throat.

Oh. It’s Gepard, you think, surprised.

He stands in front of the kitchen sink, a bright blue apron adorning his waist and shoulders, with dishwashing gloves to match. Bubbles from the soapy water floated around him while he worked, and then sank to the tile floor, where they disappeared with a few soft pops.

The oven light illuminated something resting on the top rack. You lick your lips; it was always a joy whenever Gepard decided to cook.

“Ah, good evening, honey,” Gepard says, discarding his gloves and resting them on the counter. “Are you finished for the day?”

Honey?

Something about that struck an odd note.

“Yep! All done,” you say, not quite knowing what you’re talking about. “I can rest easy now. Thanks for taking care of the dishes,”

You smile and bound over to his side in your slippers.

“I’m happy to hear that. The pie is almost done, are you feeling hungry at all?” He asks. He unties his apron, (which, you might add, looks very good on him) and pulls two plates out of the cupboard. You have two of everything, from spoons to mugs. It makes your heart flutter like a herd of butterflies.

“Um… gosh, this was unexpected. But pie sounds great!” You reply while bending down to peer through the oven door. Its crust was a wonderful golden color, just like the sun. “What kind is it?”

“Apple,” Gepard replies. He sidles up next to you until your shoulders are touching. You had a decent view of the hair on the back of his neck from here, which was slightly darker than the hair on top of his head. Definitely cute, you think.

The captain smiles gently at you, almost puppy-esque in the way his eyes search yours for approval. He tilts his head downward and—

Wait a moment. Why was he so close? What was going on?

—to slowly and tenderly place a kiss on your cheek.

Your heart threatens to reach escape velocity.

Whoa there, scooter. Keep it cool, now, you scold yourself.

“You’re always so generous,” you compliment, cupping his cheeks with your hands. You shut your eyes, and this time, kiss him gently on the lips. It felt so right, the way you combed your fingers through his hair and how you knew exactly what to do.

Gepard’s cheeks burn pink as you pull away. The color contrasted his blue eyes, which resembled rich, deep sapphires with icy blue highlights at the bottom. You stared at them dreamily, when suddenly a strange ringing invaded your eardrums.

Oh, that must be the pie.

You pulled some oven mitts that were the size of cookie sheets out of your pockets and turned back to the oven— which had, for some reason, been very curiously turned into a washing machine.

You whip around again, and this time your husband(?) is dressed in full military regalia. Gepard takes a few steps back and throws himself out of the open kitchen window, saluting you as he goes.

You were certain you lived in a two-story building.

And oh, the ringing. It was getting increasingly louder. You clamp your hands over your ears indignantly while scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Can we not do this right now? You thought. I just wanted some pie,

Gravity seemed to be playing tricks on you as the fog began to lift, pulling you out of your deep sleep.

You blinked. The strange building had been replaced by the wooden ceiling of the Eversummer Florist you were used to.

Phonograph… I need to get my phonograph so Gepard and I can—,

Groaning, you limply smacked the phone on your bedside table with your arm and turned to tuck the blankets back under your chin. But the damn thing rang again as if to mock you.

Huh. I don’t remember setting two alarms, you thought. You clicked your tongue on the top of your mouth, cringing at the dreaded taste of morning breath as you sat up slowly.

You picked up the phone, hazily coming to the realization that it wasn’t yours. The alarm’s label was titled, “surprise,” which was ironic, considering it was quite the unpleasant one. A picture of Artem, from the hit novel, Tale of the Winterlands, was set as the lock screen.

There was no other person whom it could belong to.

The old wooden door to your dorm swung open, slamming into your armoire, which you were grateful was already chipped at that point. The sounds of streamers and confetti poppers blasted through whatever peace of mind you previously had, and a group of people, all wearing green berets, invaded your room. They were waving party wands around like it was the last day on Jarilo-VI.

Speaking of Vaska, she was busy pushing her way through the gaggle of people. She squeezed her body out of the fray to stand right over you, her green eyes staring straight at you unblinkingly, like some sort of lizard.

“Congratulations, (Y/N)! You’ve been promoted!” She cheered at you through cupped hands. Before you had realized it, you’d shot out of bed in surprise, flinging your covers everywhere.

“What? Really??” You asked, your jaw agape. You were still in your pajamas, but you were far beyond the fear of being seen in them.

“That’s right,” Meg, your boss, remarked. She was strict, but rather kind. “You’re now the general manager of the Eversummer Florist!”

She did have some odd ways of celebrating, though.

“Unless… you’d like to turn it down, of course,” she teased with a shrug.

“WAIT—! No, there’s no need. I would like the promotion, please,” you blurted. Vaska chuckled as she watched you scramble to put on your slippers,

Meg planted her hands on her hips sassily. “As I thought. Now, can you give everyone a thank you for giving you such a lovely surprise?”

“Thank you, everyone,” you gave them a toothy grin. A few whoops and cheers erupted from the back of the crowd.

“There’s a cupcake for you downstairs,” your boss added. “Pick it up whenever you like. Anyway, have a nice day off, kiddo. You deserve it more than anyone,”

“Aww, thank you so much!” You exclaimed. A cupcake sounded wonderful.

Meg tuned right around and whisked herself out of the door from whence she came. Everyone else followed suit in a single file line, like a group of ducklings. That made you chuckle.

You opened the blinds and peered outside. Icicles coated the power lines and hung from the roofs of houses, announcing the upcoming Solwarm Festival with their appearance. Meg probably had an ulterior motive, seeing as Belobog hadn’t held a Solwarm Festival in years— and Vaska had a particular penchant to break down under pressure. She could probably use another person to help ensure the festivities went smoothly.

You scoffed confidently at the challenge. With you and Vaska on the job, there was nothing on Jarilo-VI that could take you down. It would be a good way to show off your newfound skill at the job as well.

But as you stood there, woozy from the forceful wake-up and experiencing the overwhelming need to pee, your brow furrowed.

What exactly do I want to do from now on?

The question came hurtling entirely out of the Snow Plains, punching you right in the nose.

Yes, you had moved to the surface and become some sort of flower tycoon. And you were as sure as you could be that you liked your job. Plus, you had even gotten a promotion. To the position of general manager, of all things!

But had you really put any thought into what your future might be? You had been given the opportunity to move to the surface by the ADCS (or Administrative District Civil Service), and you had taken it.

After a year of living here, you now had a few more things to consider. Did you want to move back home? Surely not after getting a promotion. Your boss would kill you.

Additionally, you weren’t necessarily homesick. Life in the mines was largely nomadic. Where employment was, you would follow. You didn’t miss the hacking cough you’d develop during the winter from the rock dust building up in your lungs.

Friends didn’t stay too long either. You all had to eat in some way or another, and work wasn’t always guaranteed for people who traveled together.

Maybe you could help expand the flower business? Or even get an apartment of your own? Perhaps officially studying mechanical engineering might be the way to go…

All these thoughts made your brain feel like it was going to split. You sighed, plopping back down on your bed before you remembered Meg had given you a pile of flyers to hand out two days prior. They advertised the Solwarm Festival and its details, a good source of information for anyone who wasn’t privileged enough to have experienced the festivities.

You had meant to give one to Natasha, since you weren’t sure how well news travelled from one floor to another. Plus, since Rivet Town was mostly safe again, you could probably pick up your phonograph from your old home.

Rats, you thought. So much for my day off.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

The streets and buildings of Belobog’s Administrative District had a light dusting of snow on them, much akin to the powdered sugar they put on the pastries they sold at the local café.

Alexandra Plaza was certainly filled with things to do, including, but not limited to visiting the Neverwinter Workshop, seeing a play at the Golden Theatre, and taking a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum. It was nothing short of incredible. Of course, there were a fair amount of activities in the underworld too; they would just be considered less than legal to the people up here.

You munched on your cupcake as you meandered your way to the rail car, the one specifically tasked with bringing denizens of Belobog from one level to another as thoughts flowed through your head. They’d fly in like birds, then disappear without a trace, so you had no time to dwell on them. Ones about your future, your old home, and the expectations you had for yourself.

What is it that I want, exactly?

You weren’t quite sure. You shuddered. That dream earlier had really shaken you up.

They say people dream about what they want the most, you wondered. But was it realistic in the slightest? You didn’t think so at all.

A cloud of frosty air rose in front of your face as you let out a heavy sigh. As you were reaching the ticket gate, you rounded a corner and nearly knocked heads with an older woman. She wore a maroon leather jacket trimmed with brown mink fur that brought attention to the hood and sleeves.

She glared daggers at you, pulling her tote close to herself and mumbling something about “soot-dwellers.” Meanwhile, you did everything in your power not to let your eyes roll out of your sockets.

Straightening your back, you hopped onto the rail car, leaving the Overworld and your worries behind you.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

As the rickety screeches of the elevator subsided, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

The underground was as familiar as the back of your hand. Although you’d spent a fair bit of your years as a vagrant in the mines, Boulder Town had an air of nostalgia to it as well. The miners used to gather there for a meal and a drink after a long day’s work (although it was mostly for a drink, if your memory served you correctly).

Soot and iron flooded your nostrils in waves as you walked around the northeast corner of town. The faraway shouts of the Fight Club arena, along with the hearty laughter from the miners in the tunnels, could be heard.

And how you missed this feeling! The sighs, the smells, the feeling of belonging. It all brought memories flooding through your brain. You missed singing and dancing around a campfire with other workers— arms around each other’s shoulders, mugs of bread soda in hand— while also competing to balance as many items as you could on Peak, the lazy miner (the record was 17).

A common saying from the old folks was that Geomarrow could make your blood run hot. And honestly, you believed them. One glance around the city hammered in the impression of hot-blooded community you felt. Geomarrow was the lifeblood of Belobog, and you were proud to be a part of it every step of the way.

Surface-dwellers could never understand it, you thought to yourself smugly. But you would never say that aloud.

You blended in seamlessly here, no mannerism you’d learned as a child going forgotten. You fell back into your usual swaggering gait, patting the backs of every old friend you came across. There was Seele, arguing with some poor member of Wildfire right next to the grocery stand; Hook, who was running at full speed alongside two other children, and you could’ve sworn you spotted a flash of someone with dark blue hair and green eyes before they vanished into a dark alleyway.

Old neighbors and colleagues greeted you, which made you smile. In the Underworld, there were no formal titles that you had to remember. Nobility? Never heard of it. If you were self-made down here, it was no joke.

Speaking of self-made, Miss Natasha was the real deal.

After nailing a good amount of posters to the walls, you dusted the soot off of your hands and headed towards the local clinic. The shopkeeper’s bell rang as you entered.

“Hi there, Miss Natasha!” You waved, the fliers pressed tightly to your chest.

The clinician smiled gently at you. “My, my. It’s been a while, (Y/N). How’s life been treating you?”

She stood front and center of the small, cramped room. Only a few cots were occupied; your favorite one next to the Geomarrow heater seemed to beckon you to come and have a seat.

“Quite well, as a matter of fact,” you chirped. “How about you? It looks pretty empty in here… although I guess that’s a good thing,”

Natasha chuckled softly. “I’ve been healthy, thank you kindly. One of the miners actually had a baby last week,” she placed down the vial she had been holding onto a nearby table.

“That’s wonderful!” You responded, clasping your hands together. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

One of the flyers slipped out of your arms and floated slowly to the concrete floor.

“Shoot. Actually, I came down here to give you this,” you said, sheepish about your faulty attention span. You handed her a flier, which had an illustration of a bright orange Solarflower bouquet.

Natasha let out a gasp and placed a hand in front of her mouth. “My goodness. They haven’t held a Solwarm Festival in many years. I didn’t think there would be one ever again,” she beamed at you. “I would be honored to attend, (Y/N),”

You bounced happily on the balls of your feet. Somewhere in the background, the shopkeeper’s bell rang, but the noise was quickly submerged by your other thoughts.

“I’m so glad!” You jabbered on and on. “Make sure to stop by the florist’s for some free suncakes. We partnered with a local bakery this year, so hopefully we can draw in lots of business. And—,”

Natasha’s red eyes flickered towards the clinic entrance behind you for a split second, which made you pause and turn your head slightly. And oh boy, were you glad you did.

Because standing in front of the clinic door was none other than Captain Gepard of the Silvermane Guards, surrounded on both sides by armored soldiers.

The captain locked eyes with you for a moment before you decided the Geomarrow heater in the corner of the room was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen in your life.

Gepard’s eyebrow raised at you quizzically.

“Miss Natasha,” said Gepard. “The Fragmentum monsters in the southernmost part of Rivet Town have been taken care of. Is there anything else you’d like us to attend to?”

He shot another glance at you. There you stood— hands behind your back while bouncing from one foot to the other— decidedly not looking at him. You prayed to Qlipoth he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from his position.

It felt decidedly strange running into him like this. You stood on one side of the room in front of a few raggedy cots, and he stood on the other, soldiers ready to back him up at a moment’s notice less than a foot behind him.

Just like the day you came to the overworld, you felt completely out of place.

Natasha pressed her hands together with a pleased expression. “Wonderful! I believe you’re all set to go for today. Thank you all for your service,”

Her smile practically lit up the room. Gepard nodded. “It’s the least we could do, Miss Natasha,”

You took the opportunity to take a small sidestep towards a rack of scrubs to hide behind.

Natasha, almost certainly sensing your jackhammering heartbeat, turned towards you, effectively gluing you to where you stood.

Shoot! She’s like an apex predator,

“So… Captain. Have you met (Y/N)?” She inquired casually. “They were one of my biggest helpers back in the day, in fact,”

You jumped in, a hint of nervousness present in your voice. “Yes, yes. We’ve met before. We’re well acquainted— and um, friends, I guess?”

You muttered a quiet, halfhearted “yeah” under your breath. You couldn’t see the soldiers’ eyes under their metal visors, but you could guarantee they were eyeing you with major secondhand embarrassment. They probably had no idea you two knew each other. Or maybe they thought that some weirdo from the underground was cozying up to their captain. Decidedly awkward, you thought.

One of them let out a raspy cough, which brought you back to your senses.

“It’s really best I get going,” you told your old caretaker. “I have to pick up an old family heirloom at my old place. Nice seeing you, Gepard,”

You smiled as best you could, but to Gepard, it appeared as if it were made of ice. Compared to how much you usually talked, the room felt frigid in the absence of your chatter.

The captain wondered what the reason could be for such visible uneasiness. But he forced himself to keep his lips shut. Now was not the time.

Natasha gave you a reassuring pat on the back as you floundered around in your head. Better to let the youngsters sort themselves out, she thought. It was about time you learned, anyway.

“Oh, before I forget,” Natasha added. “Be sure to take care around that area, dear. You may need clearance to enter. Maybe you should bring someone along with you?”

“Right, sounds good,” you replied, glossing over the last half of what she had said. You wanted to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. But Gepard’s incredible generosity could not be thwarted.

“Perhaps us guards could come with?” He offered.

You punched yourself mentally at not hightailing it out of there earlier.

“I’m sure its fine. There’s really no need to trouble yourselves—,” you said, waving your arms about.

Gepard didn’t falter in the slightest. “The leader of Wildfire herself said it may be dangerous, and it is imperative to us that the safety of Belobog’s citizens is ensured. We’d like to help if we can,”

Ouch. He was right on the money. Natasha’s powers of suggestion were seriously unmatched. The instructions her smile hid were very, very thinly veiled.

Your shoulders fell as you deflated. “Okay, fine,”

Gepard dipped his head, and all the Silvermane Guards tapped the butt ends of their halberds on the floor in unison, causing the ceiling to shake. A ceramic vase tipped over, causing the flower inside to meet its unfortunate end. You looked at it mournfully.

“Wait—,” you paused. “How many of you are coming, exactly?”

“As many as you need,” Gepard replied, tapping his fist to his chest.

You felt a wave of panic rising in your throat at the horrifying vision of being surrounded and jostled around by an entire squad of soldiers. “Oh, there’s no need for you all to come. Just one or two is fine, thank you,”

You imagined your old neighbors peering out their windows at you and gasping at the notion that you had been arrested.

“…you know what? Maybe just one is fine,”

“Understood,” said the captain. “You four may go back to your posts. I’ll accompany (Y/N) to Rivet Town,”

You cursed the goddess of fortune for choosing this exact moment to smite you.

Normally you’d be happy to see him, but all of these soldiers standing around were giving you a major freak-out. To make matters even more stressful, each of these people directly served the Supreme Guardian.

Of all people to have a gigantic crush on, why’d it have to be one of Belobog’s most incredible and amazing people?? You sighed. Why couldn’t you have fallen for that weird guy who stood by the Everwinter Monument every day? He was waaay closer to your league.

You gave Gepard a queasy thumbs-up.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

Humming an old mining song was the only thing keeping you distracted from Gepard’s shining presence beside you.

Now that the other guards were gone, it should be alright, you thought. But you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation for some reason.

Easy now, (Y/N). Yes, the object of your unrequited love is walking right next to you. But it could be worse. It could be an automaton Direwolf!

So why was it so damn hard to talk all of a sudden??

He didn’t look like a Direwolf, even though he was as tall as one, you thought. You narrowed your eyes at him as you walked to double check.

Gepard glanced down at you with a questioning “hm” that almost made you keel over.

Curses. This was overwhelming.

Additionally, your original hypothesis was proven correct a few months ago. Gepard was a big softie at heart. He’d even get down in the dumps when his flowers would inevitably die (which hadn’t happened recently, thanks to you.)

You wondered if he ever worried about other people’s opinions. He was so kind and considerate, it pained you to imagine him getting the brunt of public backlash as such an influential figure.

Knowing him, he probably didn’t. But if he did, he would likely hide it to avoid burdening others. He wasn’t exactly the type to expose his soft underbelly, after all.

You hoped that if anything came up, he’d consider reaching out to you. The man who was Belobog’s iron defense always went above and beyond for the people. But he ought to have someone looking out for him, too.

Scoffing at yourself, you shook your head. Gepard really brought out a slew of worries in you. You did your best to swallow down the lump in your throat when suddenly, you were hit with the nostalgic smell of your old favorite food cart.

Was that grilled olm?? Your mind kicked into high gear. Your stomach let out a loud growl as if to protest the fact that you’d only had a cupcake for breakfast.

You turned to your companion with a pleading look in your eyes. “Oh man, I’m starving. Gepard, would you mind if I made a stop for some grub real quick? I promise it won’t be long!”

“Not at all,” he responded. Without a second to waste, you took off running towards the corner of town where all the food stalls were gathered.

Gepard looked from afar with a pensive look on his face. You’d always held a sort of confidence in the way you walked, but here, in your second hometown, you flitted from stall to stall with an aura of familiarity he had never seen before. You had no problem dodging obstacles that cropped up from nowhere; Gepard, however, felt like his limbs were made of wood as he tried in vain to catch up to you. His eyes had widened hilariously as he stepped into a pothole and his arms went flying in the air.

“Oh my gosh,” you exclaimed while offering your arm out to him for balance. You bit back a laugh at his flushed cheeks. “Would you want to sit down while I wait in line?”

He accepted your offer graciously, and took a seat at one of the low-seated tables by a chain link fence.

You gawked as you watched the Silvermane Guard Captain willingly plant himself at a kiddie table. Gepard could barely fit his knees under it, making him stick out like a giant rock crab.

But you were rudely jostled from your thoughts, as just when you were about to order, two men shouldered right in front of you. You recognized the red leather jackets they wore, symbolizing they were fight club combatants.

Ugh. Scott’s boys. Many knew all too well about his unsavory business practices. Some got involved because they had no choice. Others joined because they wanted the power. You had stayed far away from the institution, preferring to run with a more respectable crowd.

One of the men had chopped brown hair and messy stubble, while the other had blonde hair cut in a mullet. Although you couldn’t tell he was blonde at first, because almost every strand was coated in coal dust. You pinched your nose shut at the smell of motor oil and grease.

They were busy chatting up the vendor with no hint of shame at what they’d done. Your eyes narrowed as you saw one of them shoot a glance at you out of the side of his eye.

They knew damn well what they’d done.

You weren’t going to take this shit from a couple of Luka wannabes, you decided.

Before the brown-haired man could finish ordering, you rapped him on the shoulder harshly. He paused for a short moment to turn his head towards you.

“Excuse me,” you said with a hint of disdain. “I couldn’t help but notice you happened to jump the line,”

The man turned without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. “…and a plate of Belobog sausages with extra sauerkraut—,”

Your eye twitched.

“Hey, you,” you interjected, tapping him again. “The line starts back there. Have you considered getting your eyes tested?”

“It’s just food, love,” he replied. The man paused for a second to spit a glob on the ground next to your shoe. Your lip curled in disgust.

“I see your mother never taught you manners,” you hissed.

The people behind you were starting to murmur.

You clenched your fist at your side as you stared him down, but before you could break his nose, you remembered that Gepard was still sitting by himself at the kiddie table.

You sighed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to get into a fight in front of a refined young noble such as himself. He might have a heart attack.

Unfortunately, the brown-haired man wasn’t finished with you. He grabbed your coat collar and yanked you towards him as his companion snickered. You could make out every scar and every bead of sweat on his face.

Sheesh. Overkill, if you ask me.

“Look man, I’m sorry, okay?” You scowled. “Cut in line all you want. You’re the big man. Happy now?”

Okay, you had to admit that wasn’t the best apology in the world. But you would’ve vomited had you made it any nicer.

He snorted, reaching a calloused hand towards your messenger bag. “Yeah? Well, I oughta teach you not to—,”

You scraped the front of his shins as hard as you could with the inside of your steel-toed utility boots.

The man roared like a wounded bear and released your collar, enabling you the opportunity to push yourself away. As he fought through the haze of pain, he readied his stance to fling himself at you, when Gepard’s metal gauntlet pushed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do we have a problem here?” Your companion asked.

His blue eyes narrowed threateningly at the man, who was currently fighting Gepard’s iron grip. If the captain had let go at that moment, he would have absolutely torn you to shreds.

Murmurs began to erupt from the crowd, such as, “Why is the captain here?” And “serves him right,”

The man snarled again, frothing at the lips. This time, he went for Gepard, wrapping both hands around his throat. You witnessed his expression contort in surprise, and your hackles raised higher than they ever had.

Thinking on your feet, you grabbed the nearest plate of food— which happened to be Frostweave Salmon with cocktail sauce— and threw a large fillet at the man. It hit him square in the face, temporarily stunning him. Sure, it wasn’t a taser, but it was the best you could do.

His blonde-haired companion, having a better sense of self preservation than he did, yanked him backward and away from Gepard. One downward glance at his plethora of medals told him all he needed to know. He signaled at his friend to retreat for the time being, and they slunk away, shooting glares full of venom at you as they went.

You snuck a peek at the vendor, who was currently cowering behind the condiment station. She motioned to you with her hand:

Just go.

Slipping a few shields on the counter for the trouble, you sped off towards Rivet Town once more.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

“Want one?” You asked Gepard. You held up a limp fillet about 20cm away from his face.

“No, but thank you for the offer,” he declined politely. Your cheeks were still flushed with heat from the subsiding chaos.

“I appreciate your help, by the way,”

“Think nothing of it,” he said, in usual Gepard fashion. The captain’s forward gaze didn’t waver in the slightest.

You soon reached the Rivet Town checkpoint run by two automaton hounds and a few vagrants with shovels. After quickly looking over your papers, they allowed you to enter the premises.

Ever since the disaster, the town had remained eerily silent. Even though it was safe, the only noise you could pick up was your own footsteps. You were so used to the background noise of gears grinding and metal squealing loudly, that the fact that you could hear your own breathing made a chill creep up your spine.

The creepy ambience aside, the salmon was awfully bland, you thought, while munching solemnly. The texture was that of something that had been frozen and thawed multiple times. You were disappointed the quality had dipped so low since you’d left.

“(Y/N), are you feeling alright?” Gepard’s voice rang out of the blue.

You nearly choked on a chunk of fish. “What? No, why?”

He looked at you with horror in his eyes. Realizing your mistake, you jumped in faster than you could say “chicken and mushroom skewer.”

“YES. I mean, yes! I’m okay, why do you ask?” You crammed the rest of the salmon in your mouth and tossed the empty plate in the nearest dumpster.

“Please excuse me for being intrusive, but you’re usually… a bit more talkative, perhaps?” Gepard said, scratching his chin. He had an instinctive desire to rest a hand on your shoulder, but you seemed farther away from him than usual, both physically and emotionally.

“I guess I do, huh?” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m okay, just a little tired, I guess. Thanks for worrying, though,”

Gepard’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, but he didn’t want to intrude.

Meanwhile, you lamented at your emotional communication skills rivaling that of a five-year-old’s. You’d better pick up the slack before he started to suspect something.

As you continued on your not-so-leisurely stroll, you came across an open clearing, with nothing but a single food cart in the middle. It seemed to be fully operational, with steam still rising from the griddles.

The sight completely baffled Gepard.

“What reason would a food cart have to be all the way out here?” He asked.

“Oh, that?” You said, turning to look at the cart. The sight would’ve appeared completely eerie to a normal person; the cart had no wheels, and yet there weren’t any visible marks indicating it had been dragged from somewhere. “That’s Belobog Burritos, of course!”

“Belobog… Burritos?” He wondered aloud.

“Yep. It’s a food stall that’s kind of an urban legend. Been here as long as I can remember,” you shrugged. “It sits there every day, no owner or anything, but there’s always freshly made food. Even when the town went under, it was still up and running,”

You waved your hands in his face in a vague gesture that he assumed was supposed to be spooky. His irises made a concentrated effort to follow your every motion.

“…or so I’ve heard,” you continued. “Apparently, if you get something from the stall, you have to pay in full or some seriously bad stuff starts happening to you,”

Gepard cast a stiff look back at the cart, feeling his blood run as cold as ice. He suppressed a shudder and continued walking. But the thought kept weighing on his mind as he walked. He felt as if there was a lump in his throat, preventing him from breathing in all the way.

Jeez, he looks pretty shaken up, you thought as you stole a glance at him after a few minutes. His face was a few shades paler than it had been previously, and his neck was all stiff. It looked like he was trying his best to not be scared (and failing miserably).

Maybe you could hold his hand to make it less scary, a part of you whispered slyly.

You beat that internal voice with a sledgehammer as soon as it surfaced.

I guess I’ll check if he’s okay,

You tried to lay a hand on his deltoid, but completely missed and firmly patted his lower back— which was much more intimate a gesture than you’d attempted. Gepard’s shoulders flew upwards in a flash as he curled them in towards his chest, and his eyes blew wide open.

“Gyeep!” He let out a strangled shriek through clenched teeth.

Your jaw fell open.

“Oh, shit!” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to— I mean, are you alright?”

His armor rattled with how heavily he was breathing as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sheesh, you had never seen him this shaken before.

Gepard’s face burned like a furnace. “I’m perfectly fine. Just ill at ease,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dabbing at his forehead with it.

That didn’t do much to convince you that bringing him had been the right idea. You sighed. Gepard really was too kind for his own good.

Holding out your elbow at a right angle, you made a small offer to reassure him.

“Want to hold on to me until we get there?” You asked. “It’s okay if you’re scared, you know,”

You glanced around at the old, ruined buildings, which were surrounded by barbed wire and rubble. The whole area felt hostile, even to you.

“I don’t blame you, honestly. This place is pretty freaky,” you said with a short laugh.

“Okay,” Gepard paused. “If it’s alright with you,”

You smiled warmly at him. “Go ahead,”

He raised his arm and gingerly placed a hand on your bicep, curling his fingers slightly around it for a better grip.

“There! You have nothing to fear now,” you said reassuringly. Gepard blushed. He wanted nothing more than to beat himself up for falling apart in front of you in such an uncouth manner.

You continued walking towards your destination; this time, his heartbeat felt a bit more relaxed with you at his side.

After a short while, the ruined structure of your old home appeared looming from the dark. As a monument to the destruction, the skeletal building almost seemed to reach towards the false sky above.

“Quaint, isn’t it,” you joked, turning towards Gepard. Looking at the house in its entirety, the shutters were missing from the windows, the roof was nonexistent, and the chimney had been mostly reduced to a pile of bricks. It was entirely unsalvageable from a realist’s perspective.

The captain studied your features carefully— you showed no traces of hurt or anger that would normally be present at such a scene.

It puzzled him, how you were able to maintain such a cheerful demeanor when a building that was supposed to represent comfort and safety was torn completely to shreds. He was filled with admiration at how well you had held yourself together.

“Let’s go in,” you said. You nudged away the splintered wood door with your elbow and stepped into the building— you really hoped it hadn’t been ransacked while you were away.

Gepard’s hand dropped reluctantly to his side. He followed suit, scanning the interior for any structural instabilities.

“What are you searching for?” He inquired.

You were busy bending down over a fallen bookshelf with books scattered in its midst. You analyzed the wreckage; a few ceramic teacups and saucers lay crushed under the impact zone, which you took care to avoid.

You brushed a few coal-black cobwebs out of your way that made you want to pull your skin off. “Just an old phonograph. It meant a lot to me as a kid, so I figured it was time I went back for it,” you said, not bothering to mention the dream you’d had that morning.

As much as you wanted to deny it, it almost felt like the phonograph was the one part of the dream that could come true. Hearing the music you listened to in your childhood again wasn’t a hard thing to accomplish, but that lovely, soft feeling that had blanketed your heart when you had realized that Gepard was waiting for you in that kitchen— you didn’t think you could recreate that.

Considering your dream would never, ever happen.

You felt disappointment form a hard lump in your stomach.

When did I start believing in a pipe dream? You wondered. Natasha would scold you for chasing such nebulous goals.

“I got a promotion recently too. I was actually considering moving out and getting an apartment instead of staying at the florist’s. It gets crowded there sometimes,” you said offhandedly.

“You got promoted?” Gepard replied, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He hadn’t heard anything about this, even with Serval serving as the best grapevine around.

“Yeah, I did!” You said happily. “I totally forgot to mention it because—,”

I’ve been avoiding you since we went to the museum, whispered your inside voice.

“I… wanted to surprise the others,” you drabbled, your shoulders drooping the slightest bit. But you picked them up as fast as you could.

“Of course,” he said. “You have my sincerest congratulations,”

That sent another pang of guilt through you. He was so incredibly earnest. And here you were, lying straight to his face in order to keep him at an arm’s distance. All because your own feelings were too much to handle.

You needed something to take your mind off the situation, and quickly.

“Hey, check this out!” You said with a little more artificial enthusiasm than you’d intended. “This photo is practically ancient!”

You hoisted an old sepia photo of you and your grandmother in front of your chest. You were watching her lift a tray of cookies into the oven in the kitchen. There was a huge variety of sweets, including chocolate buckeyes, and coconut macarons. You missed her baking more than anything.

In the picture, your grandma wore a simple lilac apron, decorated lovingly with white lace around the edges. It was incredibly well-made; you’d had trouble finding one of similar quality ever since (even though the goods were supposed to be super high-end in the overworld).

Gepard, however, had lost all ability to speak, completely blown away by the piece of your past you had so voluntarily let him see.

You looked so joyful as a child, completely free of expectations that would have been bestowed upon you had you been raised as a noble, like him. That wide, toothless smile held treasures he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“So cute…” you muttered softly. You quietly removed the picture from its frame and slipped it into your bag, where you felt it rest alongside your old pickaxe that you brought with you everywhere.

Running a quick check in the tiny hall closet, you thought you heard the high-pitched sound of ice cracking in the kitchen.

Weird, you thought, poking your head around the corner to take a better look. But what you saw nothing short of baffled you.

An ice-type Fragmentum creature, donning the damaged apron of your beloved grandmother, stood in front of the oven range. The kitchen itself was mostly intact, save for a few boxes of grains scattered about and a few appliances knocked over.

“Oh,” you started. “Son of a—,”

The creature let loose a gurgling sound from its throat and charged at you.

“Shit—!” You yelped as you scrabbled around for the nearest weapon. All reason leaving you, you completely forgot about the pickaxe in your bag. In the few seconds before it reached you, you took notice of a rusty frying pan hanging from a holder on the wall. Mimicking Gepard, you swung it with every drop of strength in your body and landed a forceful whack on the side the monster’s head.

The sound of metal on metal rang out all through the house. Bits of ice fell off the creature, sizzling with eerie smoke as they hit the tiled floor.

The figure struggled to regain its balance, reaching its icy claws toward your face. You could feel the icy chill radiating off of them, stealing your heat away.

That’s my heat, you bastard!

Gepard, having certainly heard the commotion, came speeding into the room like the cheetah he was named after. You were clinging onto the back of the monster, which was bucking you around like a Voidranger in a futile attempt to dislodge you.

In a sudden burst of effort, it flung you backwards and sent you careening into one of the cabinets. Bits of rotten wood showered on you from the impact, and a stray spice bottle hit you on the head. You disgustedly spit out the sawdust that had snuck into your mouth and caked your tongue.

The captain desperately scanned the room for something to use. The kitchen was far too small to activate his shielding device, so he wrapped his arms around the nearest table and hurled it straight at the icy foe (all while praying you wouldn’t be furious at him afterward for ruining your kitchen).

Thankfully, the table made an excellent weapon. It sent the monster sprawling across the floor with a creaking groan. Gepard then launched himself at it and pinned it to the floor with his arms.

Unfortunately, the enemy hadn’t quite given up yet. It wrestled one of its arms free of Gepard’s grasp and reached its clawed hand to slice at his lower legs. In a strange fit of ingenuity, you grabbed your pickaxe out of your bag, wedged it under the Fragmentum creature’s head, and just like a bottle cap— you twisted its head clean off.

Letting out a sickening crack, the monster’s head rolled leisurely across the floor and bonked into an open cabinet door. You nearly vomited at the sight.

Now unoccupied, Gepard rushed to your side. “Are you—,” he started.

“Yeah,” you choked out. “I’m okay,”

You clutched your chest while letting out wheezing gasps.

The captain glanced around the area worriedly. “I think it’s best we get going. There could very well be more monsters around here,”

“Wait—,” you gasped, scrambling to your feet. “I think— I think I found it,”

You peered into the cabinet that had been violently smashed o pieces. Something glinted at you from the debris— but a grinding sound came from outside that made your hair on your neck stand completely on end.

Bending down, you brushed away the wood chips from the spice cabinet and successfully uncovered the old phonograph. It was in decent condition, aside from a few screws missing, and your family’s record collection lay right beneath it.

“Ah, classic gran,” you said aloud. She did have a habit of putting things in the wrong places, after all. That saved you from having to check the upstairs floor.

“Okay, now let’s go,” you declared. You crammed as much of the device as you could into your bag, the horn still handing out of the flap, and made a mad dash for the front door. Gepard’s armor rattled as he followed suit.

We better tell the guards about this, you thought while your feet pounded against the pavement. Your breath condensed in large clouds as your throat burned with the taste of iron.

You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if Gepard was still following, just in time to see his eyes widen in horror.

Your boots left long marks in the dirt as you skidded to a halt. There you stood, aghast, as you realized what greeted you wasn’t the exit— but an automaton Direwolf.

It stood tall and menacing, with steam pouring out its joints and pistons that fired like a heartbeat. As a piece of technology from the old world, no one fully understood how they worked, not even denizens of the Robot Settlement, who modified and repaired them for a living. It made dealing with hostile ones a living hell.

“By the Architects,” Gepard swore. “(Y/N), find somewhere to hide, quickly!”

You obliged, opting for the nearest shelter that happened to be a pile of crates and barrels to the right of him. You crouched like a bear cub with your knees pressed to your chest as you tried to get a grasp on the situation from your location. Your companion was gearing up to ready himself for battle.

Shit. I need an opening to activate Earthwork, Gepard thought. He hoisted the barrier-device-slash-guitar-case defensively. I have no one to cover for me here,

The aggressor made of meshing cogs eyed him ominously through its crosshair. He eyed it back, the gaze of a predator in his eyes. He refused to falter, even minutely. Doing so would mean death for the both of you.

It raised its one chainsaw arm with a thundering roar, and the battle began.

The earth shook tremendously with every step as it sped forward, full-throttle. Gepard’s heart thrummed as he tried to consider all his options, but it was closing the distance faster than he could formulate his thoughts. He couldn’t roll right or risk giving away your position, or dodge too much and risk leading it towards the settlements. But a solid hit to one of the leg joints would slow it down considerably.

The automaton Direwolf swung ferociously at the captain, cutting large glowing divots in the nearby boulders that sizzled as they touched the surrounding air. Steam hissed, loud and high-pitched in your ears, bringing out a type of instinctual fear from within you.

A grimace crossed Gepard’s features. Direwolves were built for speed, so there was no chance you could both outrun it. Additionally, there was nothing that could escape the gaze of its optical sensor with so little cover around. He was going to have to fight it head-on.

It raised its mechanical arm to strike once more. The captain grasped his battering ram firmly by the handle, and swung it in a large arc. It landed a solid blow in between the metal plates that comprised its abdominal area, and sparks showered in the air, suggesting a sufficient amount of damage had been dealt.

The now open wires sizzled as the automaton staggered backwards. Gepard wasted no time seizing the opportunity; he was relentless in his following sequence of attacks, aiming for the most vital points concealed within the machinery.

He ducked under its flailing limbs and struck a heavy blow on the machine’s back. But it swiveled its torso around unexpectedly, without moving its legs even a millimeter, and swung at him again, leaving deep scores in the earth. Gepard skidded out of the way, leaving his cape billowing wildly behind him with the following dust cloud.

Your eyes flickered around the area as clangs and thuds rang out around the clearing. You reached a mitten-clad hand out tentatively to slink along the ground, but retracted it as white-hot sparks showered your exposed forearm. You had to make your next move, and quickly.

There was no way Gepard could win a battle of endurance. Not even with his superhuman amount of stamina. You almost called out to him, but halted when you realized it could easily draw the Direwolf’s attention to you. And you had nothing but your old pickaxe in your bag to defend yourself with.

You had to get help. It made no difference if it was the vagrants with shovels or the entirety of the Silvermane Guards. You had to make sure Gepard got out safe.

You ran a quick scan over the area; there were a few other piles of debris that were sizable enough to stay out of the monster’s field of view. If you could just make it to the exit, you’d be free to call for help.

Ducking your head, you sprinted to the closest pile and dove behind it. You snuck a quick peek at the scene. Gepard was still holding his own. Good.

This time around, you hid behind a barrel laying on its side. A patch of metal lattice fell over with a loud crash due to the shockwaves of the fight, but the machine paid you no mind.

Finally, you resorted to shuffling on your hands and knees to crawl just out of view behind a tarp that was almost threadbare. By this point, your pants were ripped and your knees were bleeding, picking up bits of rocks and glass that stuck to your sticky skin. But you ignored it. You were in the homestretch. The guards couldn’t be too far away now, they had probably heard all the commotion and—

You heard a loud thud that made your limbs completely freeze over.

Trembling, you turned ever-so-slightly behind you. You caught sight of a stray barrel rolling over to bump itself on your foot, followed by a pained groan that stole your breath right from your throat.

Gepard?

In the dim lighting, you could vaguely make out a figure clad in silver and gold, laying limply against a wall, a few broken crates on each side. Fire flickered in the background, illuminating the barrier device laying discarded on the ground, just out of arm’s reach for him.

You noticed something drip down slowly from the top of his head and soak into his fur collar, staining it a bright crimson. His eyes were closed, and he was showing no signs of moving.

Blood… that was definitely blood.

Time seemed to grind to a halt around you. Your knees threatened to give out, and you could only vaguely make out the sound of your own voice— screaming, wailing— something that wasn’t quite words. The sounds from the enemy machine sounded muffled, as if they were deep underwater, in a world different from your own.

Shaking profusely, you became aware of just how much fear had saturated your body. But you had to keep moving. The captain was alive until proven otherwise.

And you would hang on until the very end.

You ground your teeth together and made a quick sweep of the area. There was a package of dynamite that miners used to blow apart piles of debris to your right, but you had nothing to light it with. Even if you did, you didn’t trust your aim enough to keep Gepard out of the blast radius. To your left lay some books, a radio, and— an oddly shaped rock?

Whatever. It was just the right size for throwing.

You stuffed it in between your arms and pushed aside another book just in time to spot one of the old flares the miners used to use.

Yes! That could be your saving grace.

Your arms wavered so much that you thought that they might fall out, but you had to keep going. Gepard’s life was on the line.

You whipped back around and cranked your arm back far as it could go, when suddenly, you felt something whir and vibrate in your palm— and a strange mechanical voice rang out in your ear.

“Hello,” said the voice, which seemed to be coming from your palm. “I am Findie, model 17703 of the home-finding series. Please input your instructions, and I will locate whatever you are looking for!”

You whipped the rock(?) in front of your face. One of the gears rotated, as if it were waving “hi” to you.

“What the FUCK??” You roared in surprise.

A rock was a rock, no matter how much it yapped, you decided. You twisted the cap off of the fuse, wound your arm up, and chucked the rock with the fury of a blizzard.

“Over here, asshole!” You screamed. Your fear tore through your body like a tornado, threatening to tear you apart.

Fury rolled off of you in waves as you held the fuse high above your head. Clouds of red smoke rose into the air and billowed around you, swirling around your dust-covered face.

The rock landed square on the machine’s metal head with a loud tang.

The machine turned towards you menacingly for a short moment, but immediately refocused on the prey directly in front of it.

Shit. That was bad.

You scrabbled on the ground for anything you could get your hands on. A lantern? That would do. A plank of wood? Why not. Who gave a shit at this point??

Anything that would get you out of there and safe and sound. You’d promised you would help Serval with an invention later that week, and you weren’t one to break your promises.

The items bounced off of the machine one after another. It would halt its movements every time one made contact, but you were running out of things to throw.

Tears and ash clogged your eyes, but you wouldn’t let up, even for a second. Not until every bone in your body was forcefully broken and you were bruised and battered into next month.

“Get your GRUBBY HANDS off of him!” You roared. Tears and snot were streaming down your face now, and your entire body screamed at you to run, escape, anything. But you forced your feet to stay rooted to the ground where they were.

Gepard’s head lolled weakly to the side. You choked as you assumed the worst had come to fruition, and you felt as if the world was crumbling around you.

You were in the middle of chucking a portable radio at the thing when you heard the smattering of feet heading in your direction. You gasped as a wayward antenna poked you right in the eye.

Soldiers. And a lot of them, at that.

Guards in Silvermane uniforms stormed the clearing, waving around halberds, cannons, and muskets galore. Without wasting a second, the cannoneers let out a barrage of attacks that nearly blew both of your ears off.

“Backup is here, Captain!” One of the soldiers announced. You spotted a slight movement from the spot where he lay.

Another wave of firing went off. Cannonballs embedded themselves in the joints of the machine, inhibiting its movement— it began to creak and sway on its feet. Evidently enough, it realized that the most imminent threat came from the squadron of soldiers that had arrived, rather than Gepard, who was likely unconscious.

The main soldier continued issuing orders. You watched him, completely enraptured, from behind. You hardly noticed as a Silvermane gunner snuck up from behind you, and shuttled you somewhere out of harm’s way.

Soldiers had successfully managed to surround the automaton, impeding its movement. The Direwolf stamped its feet in confusion at the sudden commotion.

Shots rang out once more, and several nets weighed down by iron balls wrapped around the machine— along with a grappling hook that tied its legs together with a cord. But the machine sliced through the feeble wires with little effort.

As you took a step back, something clanked against your thigh from inside your bag. You gasped, turning to the soldier beside you with a realization.

“You have to disable the control panel,” you said, recalling your previous knowledge of when you worked in the mines.

“We’re more than aware of that,” he said curtly. He turned back to the battlefields without as much as another word.

“Yes, but the door to the panel is impervious to attacks. Could you take out the optical sensor on its face, maybe?”

The guard sighed, but shouted to the nearest cannoneer to aim a shot towards its face. An explosion burst from the area where the attack had landed. The automaton was now twitching violently with its sensors disabled.

Gepard, who was slowly regaining consciousness, sensed the sudden halt in activity. It was far noisier than it had been previously, the shouts of men and the clanging of metal made his head throb with pain. Sticky red liquid coated his falling eyelids, staining his vision red. The captain ignored the pounding in his skull and forced himself to his feet.

I… have to… I’m… still.. needed…

His body groaned with effort. He fought through the haze of pain and commanded his eyes to focus.

Earthwork was just a hair’s breath away. All he had to do was grab it.

Qlipoth… give me strength!

The captain mustered every ounce of courage in his body, bracing his arm against a nearby wall for support. Blood dripped down his face with even more fervor, but he wiped it off with his glove, sending a few small droplets smattering to the ground.

“The captain— he’s alive!” One of the men cheered. You gasped as you saw him stagger to his feet.

Gepard willed his muscles to move and dove in between the machine’s legs. He snatched his weapon and spun, quickly smashing it in one of its knees. The Direwolf lost its footing and toppled over immediately.

“Captain, use this!”

Gepard swiveled, surprised to hear the voice coming from not one of his own soldiers, but you.

Your pickaxe sailed through the air and clattered on the ground at his feet.

“Use it to break into the control panel on its chest,” you instructed with a shout. “There should be an emergency off switch right in the center!”

He grabbed the tool, but instead of using it to pry open the door to the circuit breaker, he punched it repeatedly with the metal gauntlet on his right hand until the steel door crumpled like a piece of paper. Your jaw dropped in shock at the sheer ferocity of the sight.

Clinging to the machine’s torso, Gepard scanned the machine’s chest cavity for the switch. But bundles and bundles of wires blocked his view.

The gigantic machine began to rumble. Gepard had to act, urgently. There wasn’t enough time to search for the switch, but he had to do something.

As thoughts fired through his brain like lightning, he had an idea. He could use the pickaxe to hook under the wires and pull them out. If he used his hands, his metal gauntlet would likely act as a lightning rod and thoroughly fry him, but the pickaxe’s handle was entirely made of wood. It was a decent shot.

The captain held the pickaxe with both his hands and used it to dig under the nest of wires, using his legs to anchor him to the machine— and yanked backwards until the threads snapped. He did it again, this time winding them around the pickaxe like spaghetti before pulling once again.

The machine fizzled and popped, its lights flickering before finally succumbing to the damage and collapsed, leaving enormous dust clouds in its wake. You covered your mouth with your shirt to avoid breathing them in.

Gepard’s chest heaved with great effort, and three guards hurried to his side, immediately, shouting things like, “Captain, are you injured?” And “Captain, we were so worried!” You were surprised at just how much emotion the usually stoic guards’ voices held when dealing with their leader.

The young noble let out an enormous sigh of relief. As soldiers practically swarmed him on all sides, one offered their shoulder for him to lean on, and they hobbled back towards the Silvermane Guard camp together.

You were barely aware of the sensation of someone throwing a blanket around your shoulders (even though you were still sweating buckets), and leading you to another location. You figured this was the secondary location of the Silvermane Guards’ camp, reserved for dealing with the public.

Said location was farther than Gepard than you had hoped it would be, but you couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. You were dropped off at an inconspicuous tent that was complete with snacks and apple juice to await further instructions. You felt much like a lost child.

The tent had a few tarps and blankets on the ground to shield you from the cold, hard ground, which would suck the heat out of any living thing that it came into contact with. It also included a stack of down pillows in the corner, which you readily surrounded yourself with, stacking a few to prop yourself up like a makeshift recliner. They definitely weren’t the softest things in the world, but they offered a welcome respite for your aching bones.

Although the tent’s canvas was reasonably thick, voices still managed to make their way in from outside. Bits and pieces of conversations, mostly about the incident and how you were faring. You wish they’d just ask you, honestly.

The next time you heard someone’s voice, you took the opportunity to creep out of your tent and ask them how Gepard was doing. The recipient of your questioning was power-walking with a few rifles in their arms that were likely being brought back to the barracks.

You lifted a hand to get their attention. “Excuse me, is Gep—,”

You bit your tongue. The sheer amount of guilt that welled up in your throat was utterly stifling. You didn’t have the right to address him with so little respect after what he’d been through.

“Um…” you continued, fighting through the anxiety that threatened to close your windpipe. “Is the captain okay?”

“Captain Gepard?” The soldier turned to face you. “Yes, he has a few injuries, but he will survive,”

You let out a wheezing sigh of relief that made your knees shake. “Thank Qlipoth. What kind of injuries?”

“Well— he got his brains jostled around a little bit when his head got bashed against a wall,” the soldier mused. He had an air of casual-ness about him. “He has a few lacerations from some shrapnel as well. Did you see the one on his head? That one was real nasty,”

Nothing had prepared you for the way the ground wriggled beneath you or how your stomach flipped inside out and backwards. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as your diaphragm heaved uncomfortably. You staggered over to the scrap metal pile, where you proceeded to vomit up the meal you’d gotten from the food stall earlier.

The soldier watched as you wiped away the vile liquid dripping from your chin and turned back around.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Why the hell would you say it like that?? You glowered at him internally. He shuddered, feeling your gaze on him.

At that moment, you wanted to be anywhere else but there.

“I’ll uh— I’ll get you a cup of tea,” the soldier said apologetically. You took a seat on a wooden crate, bracing yourself by gripping its edges so tightly you thought your knuckles would freeze that way.

They came back in a heartbeat with a steaming cup of tea, as promised. It was the type commonly used in the Silvermane Guards’ rations. You drank it gratefully, elated to finally be rid of the taste of vomit in your mouth.

After you’d finished, you asked if there was anything you could help with around camp. The guard looked at you like you’d sprouted an extra head.

“H-help out? Why?” He asked. “We couldn’t possibly ask you to help out all you’ve been through, Mx. (Y/N),”

After all I’ve been through, huh?

You barked a dry laugh.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you said plainly. “You all have done so much for me. I feel like I owe it to you all,”

You clenched your fist to quell the slight bitterness that was eating at you. “Besides, the only reason I made it out of there alive was because the captain saved me,”

The soldier sighed, loaded with uncertainty at your statement. “I’m not sure, since it’s technically against protocol to enlist the help of citizens without proper reason. But firstly, you should go see the lieutenant—,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “—I believe he wanted to obtain an incident report from you, but there’s a chance he’ll have a job for you to do afterward,” he pointed you in the direction of the tent, which had a large dark blue banner flying above it.

“Right, okay,” you acquiesced. You set your cup down, dusted off your tunic, and waved the soldier goodbye. He waved back, with a slight air of confusion about what had just happened.

Meanwhile, guards milled about everywhere you went. You soundlessly slipped into the tent you had been directed to, awaiting your sentencing, sitting down in a foldable metal chair in front of a desk with a quill and an inkwell. You flinched at how cold it was.

The tents here weren’t the most comfortable thing ever, but they were much neater than the ones in the vagrant camp, where people hoarded every scrap of metal they could get their hands on. This led to tents looking more like portable junkyard balloons.

A breeze of air whisked its way inside as the tent flaps peeled open, and the lieutenant’s metal visor glowed like a flame in the lamplight. The man had to duck a fair bit so as not to act as an extra support pole inside the tent.

He set down his hefty shield with a clunk, all while sitting down in front of you. A sheaf of papers also made its appearance from his bag, and he shuffled through them with incredible dexterity (considering he wore clunky metal gauntlets on both hands).

“Hello,” the man said, raising his hand in greeting. “I’m Lieutenant Thrace Hawthorne of the 4th Division of Silvermane Guards. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be (Y/N), I presume?” He asked as he extended his other hand towards you.

You took it cautiously, keeping a close eye on his body language. “Yes, that’s me. I was instructed to come here by another guard,”

He gave you a firm handshake, but squeezed your knuckles in a way that made them throb with pain. Air hissed thinly through your teeth. “Yes, and I thank you for being here as we intended,”

You retracted your arm, eyeing the man up and down suspiciously. You couldn’t discern his facial expressions with that stupid hat in the way.

“—you are aware that the Silvermane Guards do everything in our power to maintain a safe environment for the people of Belobog, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently.

“And, in order to keep the Guards as safe as possible, we need as much information as we can get,”

You nodded.

“Good,” he said while dipping the pen nib into the inkwell. “So, I will be asking you a few questions about what happened down here today. Is that alright with you?”

You agreed, albeit not too enthusiastically. Something in your gut told you that you didn’t exactly have the option to refuse.

“I’m glad we have an understanding,” he replied smoothly. “So, what kind of business were you two conducting in Rivet Town earlier today?

You paused, scratching your chin. “I went to retrieve an family heirloom from my old home. Captain Gepard was merely accompanying me at that time,” you explained. “We intended to be in and out in less than half an hour,”

The man across from you scribbled down a few notes. “Were you aware that it was a dangerous area at the time?”

“I was not. We had been told it was largely safe,” you responded. “Threats that severe shouldn’t have been lurking there, as far as we knew,”

Lieutenant Hawthorne tutted, which rubbed you the wrong way. Just his presence made you want to itch. “Where or from whom did you receive this information?”

“No one in particular. I’d just heard word on the street,”

“Any particular people that come to mind?”

“No, sorry,” you shook your head. You’d seen far too many people on your way to recall accurately who had told you what.

“Okay. And why was Captain Gepard accompanying you at that time?”

“I was visiting Natasha, and she had said that it might be best if someone came with me, because it might not be particularly safe,”

“Ah… that Natasha,” The man mused. “Wildfire’s leader,” he said, flipping the page over. You pursed your lips at him as something twisted in your gut. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and his stupid gigantic shield.

Don’t you dare say her name like that, you hissed.

“The captain himself volunteered to go,” you jumped in quickly. “That’s just the way he—,”

You froze, realizing you’d given away more than you’d intended to. Your emotions had gotten the better of you.

Hawthorne’s gaze was unwavering through his silver visor. “Interesting… on the other hand, what is Miss Natasha like?”

This time, you thought through your words carefully. “She’s— she’s a kind woman and one of the hardest working people in the underworld. She takes care of people at every possible opportunity,”

“What’s her relationship to you?” He inquired.

“She’s the local doctor. Everyone knows her,” you said bluntly.

“Does she have any strong opinions about the Guards that you know of?” The lieutenant asked.

“Not that I’m aware,” you shook your head. “She’s never refused their help or spoken badly of them,” you explained. “She has the best intentions for everyone, no matter their background,”

Unlike you, you slimy bastard, you whispered internally.

Lieutenant Hawthorne asked you a few more questions, mostly about the automaton and the rescue, such as what color it was, if there were any discernible features, etc., before asking completely out of the blue,

“Are you romantically involved with Captain Gepard?”

“No??” You shot a look loaded with incredulity at him. “With all due respect, where did that come from, sir?”

“He’s never mentioned you before,” Hawthorne stated. His voice was like unbending steel. “An affair is unlikely, but not impossible,”

Who in their right mind would arrange a secret rendezvous in RIVET TOWN?? You snorted. This officer wasn’t worth a lukewarm bottle of rye bread soda.

“Then what is your relationship with him?”

Hah. As if I knew, you scoffed. You tried to formulate an answer as best you could.

“We’re friends. And I assume that, like most people, Gepard likes to keep his work and his life separate. That is all,” you said, your tone as flat as a sheet of paper.

“I can tell from your tone that you did not particularly enjoy those last few questions,” the man said, resting his hands on the table. “But this incident was incredibly serious. The guards may suspect some sort of foul play,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You clenched your fists at your sides so hard your knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry for asking something so intrusive. But, a word of advice, (Y/N)—,” the lieutenant said, motioning towards you. “I suggest you keep your distance from the captain for the time being. As a witness of such an alarming incident, you wouldn’t want to draw attention to yourself,”

I know that, you gritted your teeth. I’m not stupid,

“Especially considering how he was outside of his usual territory. Some might think you lured him there on purpose,”

You bit back tears, pinching the bridge of your nose to hide your quivering jaw. “Sure. I’ll keep your advice in mind, thanks,”

Turning away so that he couldn’t see your expression, you pushed aside the tent flaps with barely controlled anger.

You knew he was right. All you ever did was get Gepard into odd situations that he wasn’t equipped to deal with.

Guilt crashed over you in waves. You were a bad influence, dragging him everywhere without a spare thought for his job or reputation. And he was probably too kind to turn you down otherwise.

Did he even really like you?

You knew this thought was ridiculous, but maybe, just maybe, you had deluded yourself into believing it. It sent sharp jabs of pain through your chest that wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you tried to think around it.

You walked in circles around camp in an attempt to calm yourself down. But it didn’t work. Finally, you ran across the same soldier that had given you tea earlier, and pestered him politely enough that he finally revealed Gepard’s location to you.

You had to get word from the man himself, or you’d never find peace.

After a few minutes of walking around, you spotted a tent that had a few more soldiers milling about it than usual.

Not knowing whether or not their eyes were on you, you approached it cautiously. You crept in even though your mind wasn’t sure if you really deserved to be there.

The medical tent was dark— you had to scrunch your eyes up a fair bit to adjust to the lighting. But, using the small sliver of light filtering in from the inside, you could faintly make out the shape of Gepard lying motionlessly on a cot.

You quietly pulled a metal bin up next to his right side to serve as a shoddy chair. It was then that you realized the true extent of the damage you had done.

The captain’s head was wrapped in bandages that partially covered his left eye. A pad of gauze with adhesive tape on each side was stuck to his chin, and there was a pillow on each side of his head to keep his neck in place, along with one under him to keep him supported. Most of his armor, such as the metal breastplate and his medals, had been removed and set aside, save for the metal arm armor he wore. You wondered if someone had forgotten to remove it.

You noticed his cape hanging torn from a metal rack, and stared at it with a plaintive expression for a few. You didn’t think there was anything you were capable of doing to make this situation any better.

Sighing, you rested an elbow on your knee while tracing the outline of his hand with your free arm. He was resting so peacefully— albeit his eyebrows were a bit furrowed— maybe it would be best if you let him rest for now and came back later?

You rose to your feet quietly like a mouse. But even with a severe head injury, the captain’s perception hadn’t dampened a bit. He began to stir.

“Mmm… Franz? What is it?” He croaked weakly, his brows furrowing the slightest bit. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Franz, is that you?” The captain asked again, a little bit stronger this time. You flinched as he wined in pain. He was definitely feeling the hit he’d taken. You returned to your seat on the frosty metal bin.

“No, sorry,” you said softly. Your stomach churned like butter just looking at him. “…it’s me,”

You patted his hand gingerly, willing your tears to go away.

“(Y/N)…”

Gepard opened his eyes to get a better look in the dim lighting of the tent. You leaned over the cot, your eyes filled to the brim with guilt and ash covering your cheekbones.

“I’m… glad that you’re safe,” he rasped. The captain cleared his throat painfully.

“That’s my line, dummy,” you smiled at him, slightly relieved. But your voice was loaded with pain.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “There was a lot of… blood… as they were carrying you out,”

“I received a fairly bad cut right above my left eye,” he said. “They gave me a few stitches for it. I did hit my head pretty badly, but it’s nothing life threatening, thankfully,”

“Thanks the architects,” you sighed. “Your armor looks pretty beat up too. Are you gonna get it fixed?”

“It did its job,” Gepard replied. Lantern light hit its surface and it glinted, as if it was agreeing. “My rib cage could have cracked otherwise,”

He patted one of his ribs with his gloved hand to hammer the point home. You felt another twinge of guilt in your chest.

“R-right. Is there anything you need? Like water, y’know,” you murmured.

“I’m satisfied for now. Franz got me everything I needed earlier,” he cut you off.

“Okay,” you chewed on your lip in silence. Your hands fidgeted with nothing, as if searching for something to do.

You could tell Gepard’s eyes were trained on you, but you kept your own focused on the ground. A few chunks of dirt surrounded your feet where they had broken off from your boots that drew your attention.

Tears kept threatening to well up in your lower eyelids, but Preservation be damned— you were not going to cry right in front of him.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve, which unfortunately still smelled like bile, and feigned a cough to make the action less conspicuous.

“Y’know… I wanted to thank you for saving me back there,” you paused, staring off into the distance. “I got off with nothing but a few scratches because you kept me safe,”

Gepard hummed in acknowledgment, for he was unable to nod with his head and neck incapacitated. What you couldn’t hear, however, was how the inside of his head had whispered to him that if you had gotten injured, he would never have forgiven himself. The captain couldn’t say it outright— but he hoped that the way he gazed at you so longingly would get the message across.

With your nerves ticking at the fact he hadn’t said anything, you added, “They asked me like, a million questions before they let me go,” you chuckled lightly. It felt misplaced, but it was the best you could do to cheer him up.

Gepard didn’t seem to find the humor in it, though. His eyes stared back up at the ceiling. “Is that so?”

“Y-yeah,” you twiddled your thumbs slightly. “Some guy named Hawthorne— he sat me down for an hour or two earlier. He seemed kinda shady,”

“Oh, Lieutenant Hawthorne?” Gepard pondered. “I know of him. He may come off as a bit cunning, but he means well. Hawthorne lost his brother during the quarantine of the underworld. He just wants to keep the guards safe from any threat, so that no one has to go through the same experience he did,”

“Really?” You gasped in shock. “I guess I owe the guy an apology then,” you said, resting your head in your hands as your chest twinged with embarrassment.

“…I really jumped the gun on that one, huh?” You sighed.

“I don’t blame you,” Gepard replied. “Trusting your gut is important. And you would have more than enough reason to harbor some animosity, given the way the guards treated you all here previously,”

Something about his voice— although it wasn’t outright comforting— soothed your nerves a bit. Only someone so level-headed could reassure you so well, you laughed inwardly. Which was impressive— considering he was lying exhausted and halfway dead in front of you.

Maybe you didn’t have the right to be scared, because this was just the nature of his job (you know, the one he did every day for a living). But he was supposed to fight valiantly for Belobog’s people,

Not a single, worthless vagrant like yourself.

You kept inhaling a preparatory breath to speak, but each time the words would vanish right as they were about to exit your lips.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to spit it out.

“Gepard… I have a question to ask you,” you paused. “It’s kind of weird— but is that okay?”

The young noble’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Surely it wasn’t— no, it didn’t look like it.

That wasn’t the face of someone who was about to confess. He scolded himself mentally. This wasn’t the time or the place to be thinking about it. Instead, every hill and valley of your expression was laden with worry and pain. He wished he could sit up and take you into his arms, so he could whisk all of that pain away.

“It’s fine with me,” he said. “What is it?”

“It’s just—,” oh Aeons, this is so embarrassing, “Why is it that you hang around someone like me? If I’m being honest, I really don’t understand,”

Gepard’s mouth went dry.

“Someone like you? What might you mean by that?” He inhaled sharply.

“I’m just a troublemaker,” you replied, smiling sadly at him. “And you’re a guard. We’re as different as winter and spring,” you were taken aback almost disbelievingly.

“You’re hardly a troublemaker,” Gepard retorted. “At least, not in Serval’s sense, where she deliberately makes things harder for me,”

Okay, well, maybe not deliberately.

You grimaced. “That may be true. But, I cause you problems in other ways. Like, that time at the cafe tables. You’re a public figure, for Qlipoth’s sake! What was I thinking, pulling you up there in broad daylight?”

You clamped your mouth shut before you ran entirely out of breath. “My presence also puts a strain on your reputation. I’m from the underworld. We’re supposed to be lazy and dishonest, y’know,” you scolded. “I hear old ladies whispering about it all the time,”

You kept yammering, “Hawthorne even asked me if you were off horsing around with me because I brought you out there today,” you groaned frustratedly. “All I do is get you into weird situations,”

You were a centimeter away from pulling all your hair out.

“That’s not entirely true. I get into plenty of weird situations myself,” Gepard protested. “For instance, Serval—,”

“Stop throwing your sister under the bus!” You barked, proceeding to pinch him in the thigh.

“Agh—!” He flinched with a yelp. “As I was saying— that isn’t true in the slightest. Yes, we may have ended up in a few strange situations. But those are a rare minority of the times we spend together,” he shot back.

Gepard reached out and rested his gloved hand on your knee reassuringly, a new look coming across his face. Your heart twirled in your chest.

“Did you know that before we met, my days were largely routine… just like clockwork?” He asked.

“But you brought excitement into my life,” he declared. “Being friends with someone unaffiliated with the guards has been incredibly beneficial in terms of my own personal happi—,”

The captain cleared his throat before he gave away anything more. His cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “A-anyways,” he sputtered. “The benefits of being your companion far outweigh any drawbacks you think you might have,”

A noise of surprise escaped from your throat as you felt your face begin to heat. Wow, he sure had a way with words. But you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“I— well, what are the guards going to think about you nearly getting killed over a stupid piece of junk?!?” You blurted out, your voice breaking. The phonograph in your bag bumped against the cot at the sudden outburst.

Gepard searched your eyes in vain for what you might be feeling, but he came up completely empty. His chest fell at your distressed face.

“It’s true that the guards are tasked with many important duties,” he began, enunciating each and every word slowly. “Such as defending the union, serving the people, and enforcing the orders of the Supreme Guardian… I believe my help today would fall under the ‘serving the people’ category,”

You tilted your head at him as if to beckon him to explain further.

“We get called to track down lost pets or put up posters quite frequently, in fact. It may not be the most exciting job, but it is an honor to help the citizens of Belobog in any way, shape, or form,” he said stubbornly. “And you are one of the people, are you not?”

He defiantly exhaled through his nose. You were left looking at him, slack-jawed. He’d left you almost no room to argue.

“But— I’m not a technically a citizen of Belobog. I’m just a random vagrant from the mines!” You argued. It was a dumber point than you wanted to push, but you knew no other way to fight back.

“Belobogian creed dictates that we treat the people with respect, no matter where they should live,” the captain said without a hint of doubt. “It’s true that the previous Supreme Guardian sanctioned efforts to close off the underworld, but it was framed in the light that it would ensure the safety of the people on the surface. But it was wrong,”

Gepard sighed, feeling the weight of your words squeezing his chest. “It was my understanding that we were all just trying to survive the Eternal Freeze… but in any case, it would have been disrespectful to ignore Miss Natasha’s request to accompany you—,”

Okay, now that’s stretching it a bit, you blanched.

“—and let you go by yourself. In fact, Article 4, Section 5, Line 2 of the Silvermane Guard handbook states that—,” he blathered on. It honestly impressed you. You were helpless to do anything besides stare in disbelief as words poured from his mouth like a waterfall.

“But wh-what about the higher ups and the old folk? Won’t they get angry at you if they find out you’re hanging out with someone of my standing?” You jumped in the moment he stopped to take a breath.

“If people want to trouble themselves with our relationship, which is in fact, none of their business, I say we let them,” Gepard responded. “It is of no concern to me unless it affects you negatively. In which case, I would step in,”

He tightened his grasp on your leg. “I did not reach the station I am at by trying to please those types of meddling figures. Your background has never once concerned me, not even for a second,”

The captain locked eyes with you in such a way that you thought you’d evaporate if you averted your gaze, it was so intense.

“You are not some kind of vermin,” he proclaimed. “It pains me to see you talk about yourself like this. You are one of the Eversummer Florist’s most capable workers, and first and foremost— you are my friend,”

He finally clamped his mouth shut. Aeons, the man in front of you had no clue how much those words meant to you. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“I promise you, (Y/N). What people think will not come between us in the slightest. I will be your iron wall, whenever or wherever you may need me,” he vowed with every fiber in his body.

And that’s when tears came pouring down your face.

They streamed down your cheeks and soaked into the collar of your coat. Your body shook with sobs, your shoulders shuddering every time you drew in a breath.

It happened so fast that Gepard was completely at a loss. He stammered out a few words, horrified that he might have caused something, but all that came out were a mess of vowels.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Short cries escaped your throat that you tried to stifle with your hand, and you gripped your knees tightly, trying to still your shaking body. But it wouldn’t stop. Your chest felt tight, so tight.

“(Y/N),” Gepard said gently from his position on the cot. “(Y/N),” he called again.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered. “I’m here for you,”

All of those feelings flowed out of you like a dam had broken. He wove his thumb in circles around the fabric of your pants in a comforting gesture, easing your aching soul.

You grasped his hands suddenly with both of your own and held it to your cheek, letting the warmth of his skin through his glove calm you down. You nuzzled into the palm of his hand mournfully, tears continuing to trickle down your face, until they finally slowed to a stop, your cheeks and eyes still wet.

After the crying had subsided, leaving only the occasional hiccup, Gepard pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pant pocket and handed it to you. You blew into it loudly, giving him a congested apology afterwards.

You threw your head back to look up at the tent ceiling while blinking away any remaining tears. Willfully scrunching up your face, you let out a calming breath and returned to looking at the captain. He had a relieved look on his face.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I’m okay now. Thank you, Gepard,”

“It was the least I could do,” he said, placing his hand back down on the cot.

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “But it was more than enough,” you mustered up the best smile you could in order to reassure him.

“Um, about what you were saying earlier—,” you brought up. “If— if you say so. But the higher ups, would they withhold a promotion from you or because you were hanging out with me?”

He smiled gently at you, capturing your soul effortlessly with that simple motion. “I’m quite satisfied with being the captain of the Silvermane Guards, thank you. My deeds as a soldier stand as a testament to that,”

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your coat jacket. “Hah, I guess I was worried for nothing then,” you said with a hint of frustration. “How silly of me,”

Gepard reached up and patted your head reassuringly, causing your eyes to widen. “The fault isn’t all yours. I appreciate you being so considerate, but it’s not your job to protect me,”

He put such meaning into every word he said. Such an admirable way of life.

You swatted his hand away lightheartedly. “Yeah? Well, it’s not your job to protect me, then,” you sniffed. You stuck your tongue out at him as far as it would go, which elicited a short laugh from Gepard.

Aeons, that smiling face was priceless. You could just lean over and kiss him right on that cot.

The smile faded from your face, replaced with something else now. You reached over him and wiped some stray hairs from his face using your single clean glove, watching them fall back into place with a satisfied look.

As you were retracting your arm— much to your surprise— he gently lifted one of his hands and placed it to yours, palm-to-palm. His fingers were slightly bent, so they wrapped around to the back of your hand. A smile danced on your lips; your face and neck much warmer than previously.

You clasped your hand entirely around his, admiring his soft smile. It was so warm and dreamy, a rare ember in a world as cold and hard as Jarilo-VI— a planet so unlike its namesake.

Just when you were stroking the side of his hand with your thumb, you heard a deep rumble (or maybe it was more like a growl?) from your companion’s stomach region.

Gepard went as red as a tomato.

“Captain… I thought you said you didn’t need anything?” You squinted your eyes at him accusingly at the realization.

Gepard internally cursed himself.

Sighing, he said,

“…maybe some porridge will do, thank you,”

BONUS:

“Ugh,” you grunted. “C-captain, you’re heavy! Franz, can you help me get him up real quick?”

Lieutenant Hawthorne, who was walking by the tent at the time, heard shuffling and something that sounded like a grunt of protest from the captain.

“Truly, (Y/N). I can sit up by myse—,”

“NO,” exclaimed both your and Franz’s voices loudly. Hawthorne stopped in his tracks.

“May I at least hold the spoon?” Gepard pleaded. Hawthorne could see your silhouettes from the lantern light cast upon the tent’s walls. You had your hands on your hips as Franz held a bowl and a tray behind you.

You snorted. “In your dreams. I got you all banged up, so it’s my job to take care of you. If I leave you be, you’ll just overwork yourself until you pass out again!”

“May I remind you, that was but a singular instance when—,”

“Lalalalala!” You sang obnoxiously. “I can’t hear you!”

“(Y/N), I beg of you. I must maintain my dignity,” he implored one last time.

“Here comes the Astral Express!” Hawthorne heard you shout, completely overshadowing the captain.

The tent went silent for a moment.

“It’s good, right?” You asked after a short pause.

“…yes,”

Th lieutenant chuckled to himself and continued on his way.

BONUS 2: Belobog Central Hospital

“…and as long as you take care of yourself, you should be good to go in about two weeks,” said the head nurse to Gepard, who was just finishing up giving him the synopsis of his condition. “We’ll be monitoring your condition for the time being, okay? Head injuries are nothing to joke about,”

He agreed. The captain lay in a hospital bed with a neck brace and one leg elevated with a foam wedge, which, frankly, he thought was overkill, considering he was able to walk to the camp.

A vase of fake flowers lay on the bedside table. Gepard smiled to himself. You’d mutter under your breath and call it a waste of a good vase.

After half an hour, the pain medications they had given him finally kicked in, and he’d drifted off to sleep.

He dreamt about making you a rye bread soda iceberg, your eyes lighting up as he placed it in front of you. Maybe once winter came around, he’d make you a pie, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He snoozed softly, when suddenly he was awoken in the middle of the night by a scratching sound at the hospital window.

Gepard lifted his body as much as he could to get a better look, when he spotted the tops of two blonde heads along with a purple-haired one.

The tufted ears on Lynx’s hat wobbled. Serval’s blue eyes peered above the windowsill and they narrowed into crescents as she grinned. Meanwhile, Pela was looking around frantically, making sure no one spotted them.

His elder sister reached up with the multi-tool you had bought her, and fiddled with the lock. The latch came open with a clean pop. And true to her name, Serval slunk in gracefully, her heels clacking on the laminated floor.

“Hi, little bro,” she smirked. “Are visiting hours over?”

He looked at her incredulously. “I think you know the answer to that. Why else would you be breaking in?”

“Breaking in is a stretch,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Like I said, we’re visiting— just outside of the intended time!”

Gepard sighed. “I cannot believe you managed to drag the other two into this. What if you get caught?”

“Actually, it’s three,” your voice piped up. It came from somewhere under Pela. You spoke again. “And we won’t, I promise,”

The captain’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

That’s right. He was on the second floor.

Lynx hoisted herself up, and Pela began to follow suit.

“H-how?” He blurted. “How did you get in here?”

“There’s a dumpster out back that we used to elevate ourselves,” Pela said, not wavering in the slightest. “It could only hold about two people, so (Y/N) is currently holding me up,”

She hoisted herself entirely into the room and beckoned the others to come hoist you up. Gepard spotted one mitten, then the other. And then the rest of you came into view. And you were holding a basket with a blue silk ribbon tied to it.

“We brought you a gift basket!” You whisper yelled. Gepard’s face lit up like a spotlight at the sight of you.

You hopped over to his side and leaned over him with a smile, showing him the contents of the basket. “We’ve got flowers, and cookies, and— hey! Are those fake flowers?” You snapped your head towards the flowerpot indignantly.

You put the basket down and scoffed. “That’s a waste of a good damn vase if I’ve ever seen one,”

Whisking yourself towards the sin against botany, you yanked the faux flowers out and tossed them aside. Then you replaced them with a few stems of white tulips from your basket and filled the vase with water from the nearby sink.

Gepard smiled. You’d said it all almost word-for-word.

And so you stayed a while, talking well into the night. And you were all so tired that no one showed up to their jobs the next day.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

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