#or 'thought i saw you down on my street - i lost my step and spilled my coffee - fantasize you talking to me - while you're onstage

[lunaicfantastic]

i hope that the grip the band boys go to jupiter currently has on me gets communicated to them thru the ether bc goddamn their 2.5 songs out are all ive been listening to for the past week

[nemesyaaa]

american pie // frat!rafe cameron x milf!reader

summary ; you moved on with your son into a new house in front of tanneyhill after a divorce and ward offered you the help of rafe to unpack your affairs. and maybe young boys were not that bad...at least, that cocky frat boy at your service....

warnings ; so age gap. smut. +18. young boy x older woman trope. mentions of mommy's whore and milkers. p in v. forbbiden attraction. facesitting. slight of 69. mentions of belly bulge. pervertion &depravation. dirty secret. messy porn with a little plot. twisted behavior and sick attitude. momma's boy. minors DNI. be careful with the warnings.

author's note ; i thought the idea of milf!reader and frat!rafe was hot. this is not an american pie au. but enjoy 🫡‼️

“are you the kid that ward sent to help me unpack my things ?”

you had only just moved into the house across the street from tanneyhill,and now you had a new life waiting for you, it was essential for you to get along well with your neighbors. when Ward had suggested that his son come help you, you hadn't said no,especially since yours was completely lazy and already locked himself in his room to play video games. the divorce wasn’t easy for him to deal with and you respected that.

you were tired from your long journey here, so when you saw Rafe coming, you smiled directly at him. you were especially happy to see a guy with big muscles at your service for a task that you could have easily done yourself. but seeing a helpful young guy doing it for him made it even better.

he had crossed the street with his cap on backwards and his smirk kissing his teeth with his hands in the pockets.

you weren't supposed to look at him but he was charming. you waved hello to him, with a glossy and warm smile. definitely not an innocent one. you were too old to play the shy girl. and you were not into playing that game anymore.

if this gesture was friendly to you, you had awakened all of Rafe's hormones. when Ward forced him to come help you, he expected to see a horrible, bitter cougar but fuck, you were terribly far from the image he had made in his mind. you were the opposite of this idea. you were perfect, the kind of milf with divine mommy milkers who were top favorites on his private browser, the kind of woman he clearly wanted to call mama. he felt so tight in his frat pants, and he terribly regret not choosing to put on boxers because he could feel his cock hanging down through his shorts, and slapping against his naked thigh.

because damn, the flapping wasn't the sound of the wind.

he stucked his tongue in his mouth and moved closer.

“yes, ma’am. "

usually, you hated that nickname. but his thick southern accent made this much warmer. you squeezed his hand. his was sweaty.

it was terribly hot here, a tropical heat to die for. you wore a bikini top that barely hid your large breasts from spilling out of the fabric, and under your skirt protruded the string and triangle of a thong.

rafe cameron is dying to be in a scandalous POV porn video with you. and Jesus, if your tits didn't move so much every time you took a step, he wouldn't have these kinds of impure thoughts. you were too hot and he was burning.

“I hope you don’t mind. " you replied with an almost false tone.

“ pleased to be at your service, ma'am." he replied with a smile. “you know, you can call me whenever you want.”

“ward is lucky to have a son like you.”

for some reason you didn't know, your remark had unsettled him slightly. his face darkened as he followed you into the house. seeing that the atmosphere had become a little tense, you added. “I mean, you’re a good boy, rafe.”

you lost him when you called him a good boy. god, he really needed to go to the bathroom because he was behind you, and the string of your thong kept showing and teasing him. he wondered if god was testing him. he was tortured by his own perversion.

“this is my room. you can put all the things here.”

“do you want me to clean everything too?” he asked.

“it depends. you're looking for a reward, boy ?”

you looked each other straight in the eyes. the tension was suddenly electric. there was challenge in your eyes and excitement in rafe’s blue and glistening gaze. you were on the same wavelength.

"What kind of reward?" he asked.

you leaned over his ear before whispering. “tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“save those words, ma’am.”

“okay, boy.”

“oh, and those panties too.”

“About that, did you purposely not put anything under your pants?”

"You shouldn't look at me like that. ” he mocked in a playful tone while collecting your things. “ I could be your son, ma’am. ”

"That's true, but you're Ward's. So I can do whatever I want with you. And it turns out I want to play with fire."

"Come back later. I have work. But if you want us to work on something else now, I'm not against it. ”

“Are you the type to start something and not finish it?” The dig was light but it had the merit of making Rafe laugh.

“I’m more of the type to start something and finish it between your thighs. Want a ride, ma’am ? ”

“See you soon. Those big arms need to work out a little. ”

You smiled before quitting the room, leaving him with immense sexual frustration.

Of course, he was attracted to girls his age, but you gave off something terribly hot and forbidden. You looked so much like his living fantasy. He urgently needed to jerk off.

And the fact that he was holding your box of panties didn't help matters. He had gently closed the door, only ajar before rummaging through it. He could afford it after you turned him on during this whole conversation. And the fact that you hadn't told him no, that you had shown interest, was worse. He needed it now.

He was sweating without even touching himself yet. He was completely desperate even though he hadn't even touched you. He was pathetic. His hand was shaking before he even grabbed his hard cock. He had chosen a thong from the box, picking it with his fingers before starting to masturbate while he sniffed the fabric of the other. his nose was buried into the sweet scent of your lingerie. he thought of nothing but the way your pussy fitting in the panty, literally outlined it with his lips.

It was obscene and outrageous but he was needy. He had the vision of your huge, milk-filled breasts, but also this vision of you and your full belly, this vision of the completely attractive mother that he desperately wanted to fuck.

Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he continued to jerk off, his clenching fist moving back and forth on his throbbing dick. he could feel the blood pumping through each of his veins, and the warmth of his balls. he was exploding. his hand was clumsy and trembling. his lips opened, and tongue hung out on weak moans, until pathetic crying flowing on his face.

he ended up wrapping your thong around his cock and speeding up the movement. the fabric slide so easily over his length, adjusting to his girth. he had spat on his dick, making it shine on the tip, before wetting it fully and fasted his movements. he was excited as a dog. you turned him into a mad freak.

his legs shivering as he continued to jerk himself up and down, each finger wrapped around his girth. he was on his knees, half-naked and perverted. he couldn't think, you were the only thing in his head. as he touched himself, his balls slapped heavily between his fat thighs.

all of his fingers worked around his cock, pressing against his blood-soaked flesh. the fabric went through his entire boner which became uncontainable. it was painful, the pain could be heard in his moans.

he even stuck one of your underwear in his mouth, and he actually bit into it to contain his noises while he fisted his entire cock.

as it had been more than half an hour and you no longer heard anything, you decided to leave the transat of your pool to go look up. the door to your room was ajar and you could hear muffled whispers and moaning complaints. you took off your heels to look through the door.

you wished you weren't horny, but you totally were. you were turned on by what you saw. you had a smile on your lips, and you opened the door.

you approached and when he saw you, his face changed. you crossed your arms over your chest, your breasts sticking out more. his eyes were bright, and his mouth was panting. you wanted to caress his cheek and call him babygirl but you held back. just because he was younger than you didn't mean he couldn't fuck you as well as your ex husband. you crouched in front of him, giving him a full view of your thong, but also the contours of your pussy through the fabric.

“I didn’t know you were such a pervert. I leave you alone with my things...and this is what you do with them..." you grabbed the used panties above his face.

he had ejaculated inside, his sperm had formed a wet white stain.

"what am I supposed to do with you? I could tell ward what his son is doing...Should I call your dad for being naughty, Rafe ? Or maybe, it's better to deal with me. " you played with him with some teasing.

you caught the fear in his eyes and chuckled. in reality, your threat was crueler than you thought. and you quickly understood that his father was a sensitive subject.

“apart from that, my things are put away so it’s true that I owe you something, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.” he warned.

"Why? It's a kid's behavior to do things behind their parents' backs."

He smirked. You were obviously a mother to come up with this kind of thinking.

"Want to play the momma so bad? I can fix that. Let me breed that pussy and make you a little child to have a real reason to call him kid."

“You think you can breed me? When you were literally jerking off in my panties instead or facing me to admit how perverted you are?”

you took off his cap and collected the sperm on it.

“You think I’m too young to fuck you? ”

"No, I have no doubts about your sexual abilities. You seem in great shape."

Without taking off your panties, you began to rub yourself against the fabric of his cap. you could feel rafe's wet and still warm cum, plus the object sliding against your slit.

as you stroked yourself on his cap, you could hear him groan. It didn't take him long to regain his masturbation.

moans had started to come out of your mouth, while you humped the object knowing full well that he would put it back when he left your house with your scent still on it. you moved sensually, your hips bucking slowly so he could hear how wet you were. your body was submitted to his desires, your boobs had burst out of your bikini top.

as if in need of affection, he had wrapped his slobbering and desperate mouth around your breasts. he had sucked and licked your nipples and nibbling the piece of tender flesh between his teeth without hurting you. he had sank his mouth far enough to cause you sensations of pleasure and enjoyment. he continued, his tongue rolling from one of your tits giving slap to them with his muscle, while you held his head in your hands, caressing his neck with an affectionate gesture. he was such a good boy, your pretty boy.

he was playing with you. his mouth was toying with your tits. he loved pinching them, and let them bounce before putting his head on it. he was so horny, his dick tugging hard and painfully in his pants. he was sucking at your boobs, biting them to hear your whiny noises into his ears. his face was so cocky, so frat.

you continued to rub yourself, your pussy soaking all the fabric. sloppily kissing your huge tits, he trailed his kisses around your skin and neck. he dragged one of his hands around your throat, making you move your head slightly.

“sit on my face..."

It wasn't even an order but you complied. he clearly wanted you to fuck his mouth with your pussy. he had placed his hands on your thighs to steady you while you were on the bed. the next second his mouth was covered by your dripping slit and juices. his tongue was hot, and licked you so well that your legs compressed around his face. you could feel your clit twitching against his mouth. his hungry hands were tight against you, as he slurped the sweet taste of your cunt.

you were divine. his eager tongue was fucking you perfectly, as your weeped all your wetness into his lips. your arching clit was devoured and bullied by his horny mouth. his hands were on your waist and tummy flesh, caressing you softly as he was eating you all the way. you could feel his tongue sliding in and out, making you feel even more tight. his muscle brushing your slick, pushing deeper and deeper as the throb of your clit tickles his nose. you were in heaven. your body was tensed under his strong breath, hard spasms shivering your insides as the blow covering your juices.

your husband had never given you so much pleasure but here you were swimming in complete happiness. the way his hands gripped your body and his tongue licked you. you started driving on top of him, moving your hips as you held your breasts, and his mouth just followed the movement of your body. his tongue was fat, giving quick circles around your buds, while he held you.

you had also seen the big bulge in his pants. it was giant. all you wanted was to see his cock entirely. so you leaned over and undid his pants.

you already knew he wasn’t wearing boxers. you saw him earlier. even though you were impressed by the size, you were quick to put it in your mouth. it was like a toy. your lips were wrapped around his dick above your face. you had started to suck him. your glossy mouth was around his girth and moved up and down at the beginning slowly then faster. you kept him still with your mommy weight against his, your fat tits on top of his pelvis, and his thick cock inside your mouth. you sucked him deep in the throat.

you were thrusting in and out so fast and sloppy that you had quickly started to be a mess. your hair, your eyes, your nose, that whole mouth. you would release all your sexual frustration in this blowjob. you could feel his entire cock travel through your mouth to your throat and fill it. but you also had his tongue buried in your pussy but your moans were muffled by his dick. you were breathing hard but you were enjoying it so much.

you knew it was wrong and if ward found out you were fucking with his son, you were dead. but you couldn't resist a guy like rafe. and just because he wasn't your age didn't mean he couldn't fuck you.

you continued to pump him, then pulled his cock dripping with your own drool out of your mouth before slapping the glistening tip against your soaked cheeks. your noises were so obscene that Rafe gave you six little slaps against your pussy. you licked his tip without taking it back into your mouth. you had only teased him.

he pushed you to the side, and stood on top of you.

“you work hard.” you said, judging his big arms.

you had lurked about the size of his biceps which were quite impressive.

“ if I want to fuck pretty milfs like you, i need it. .”

“Speaking of this, what are you waiting for? Should i ask …”

“So eager to be fucked by a young boy ? got it. ”

he hadn’t waited a minute longer and he was already inside you. he could have start gently but you were so wet that it slipped so easily. you weren’t really as tight as the girls he was used to meeting but damn, he felt so good inside you.

he quickly picked up the pace, pounding into your pussy while holding your thighs. when your screams got louder, he covered your mouth with a smirk. “did you forget about the kid next door? want him to wake up because his mommy is a whore? ”

even though it was degrading, you were completely turned on by those words. mommy's whore? you could feel the fire in your pussy ignite as he fucked you roughly against your own mattress.

“r-rafe…” it was so pathetic to be bullied by a guy younger than you.

but he was incredibly good. he was buried in your walls, you could feel every inches of his cock in your canal pumping in and out. both of your bodies slammed against each other. and your pussy squeezed him like a vice which made him even more excited.

“ take it. i thought it was not a big deal for you ? can have a fucking baby inside your belly for 9months but can't take that fucking dick of mine inside you for few minutes ? stop acting, babe, because you're only making it worse for you. ”

the way your breasts moved as you took him, how your body bounced on the mattress, how your moans caressed his hand. you were perfect. and a fucking milf..he couldn't wait to brag about this to his frat friends.

your pussy was dripping at the entrance and soaking him completely. you were unable to think of anything. the way he fucked you made it hard for you to think, and the smacking sounds of your cunt against his dick werent helpful at all. aside from saying his name through his hand, your voice muffled, you weren't good for anything.

"look at that pussy and belly, taking my cock so well. i bet you wanted a second baby so bad."

his words were outrageous but the more dirty and unhealthy it was, the craziest slut it made you.

degradation was your thing so you had no desire to stop him in his way. he thrust in and out, driving all his large cock into your soaked walls, fucking you all the way to your tummy without mercy. his big cock hitting your insides repeatedly as he admired himself through his thrusts. “ do you like your belly with my cock inside it ? ”

he had crushed part of your face through the mattress before leaning over you as he continued to work you, his tip touching your spot. your legs were trembling, your eyes were watery and your mouth was panting. you were so fucking dirty.

“crying? throbbing? begging? that kid is fucking you too good, ma'am. “he mocked you nasty. “ and that sweet pussy fits my cock very well. can you feel that ? ”

“ r-rafe…! ”

“ sorry, i can't hear ya well, those mommy milkers are bouncing too loud. but it doesn't matter, i'm not in the mood to listen to you, you're just gonna take it until i’m tired. ”

when he started to speed up because he knew he was going to cum, you didn't know how many minutes he had been inside you and fucking you hard like a ragdoll. but it's been a long, long time. you had already reached orgasm three times. and it was like he was playing with you. he wanted to see you tired and on the verge of explosion. rafe wanted to see you completely worn out. he wanted to feel like he used you extremely well.

“the roles have changed. I'm the one giving the rewards now. " and he came, thicks white loads filling your sweet cunt as he spoke, letting a warm pressure inside your belly.

“ what if i'm pregnant ? ”

“ nobody will be surprised that you've got another baby. they would be more suprised about the daddy.”

“ rafe. i'm serious. imagine if ward knows…”

“ this is not his business. i can take care of my shit. “

you gave him a worried look. he had gathered his things and gotten dressed while you were still in bed.

he kissed you on the forehead. “you have my number..."

“i have more than your number now, rafe.” you joked gently.

in the evening, you connected to your Instagram. you wanted to stalk Rafe on social media. And he had posted something on Threads. Okay, you knew he wasn't the kind of disciplined and courteous guy but you expected better from him. The fact that he was telling everyone that he fucked you and calling you milf like you were a score on his scoreboard was really not cool.

The next day you got ready and went to knock at Tannyhill. Ward opened you with a huge smile. “Hello sweet, how are you?”

"Everything's great. Your son is very adorable."

Ward had brought you into the house, and you had seen the whole family at the table. “Oh am I disturbing?” you pretended to be concerned.

“No, of course not.”

"Actually, it'll be quick. I heard your daughter Wheezie was looking for a tutor. And I wanted to offer myself. It'll be my way to thank your son."

While saying that, your gaze was fixed on Rafe who also didn't take his eyes off you.

It didn't take long for Ward to introduce you to the family.

After the meal, Rafe had taken you upstairs to his room before pinning you against the wall.

“What’s your problem?!”

"No, what's your problem?! Tutoring Wheezie? Don't make me believe you have any degree? Girls like you don't seem to bother studying."

"Wow...you can be really mean when you want. I saw the offer online, and I volunteered, that's all. No need for a fuss. I need to work, rafe. It's called life. ”

"Don't make me think you don't have intentions behind it. Suddenly you want to help Wheezie?"

He had laughed, his tongue poking inside his cheek. “Well, okay.”

" What ? "

"I needed some new faces for my frat house. Your son will do it. Don't you mind that he joined my party? It will have plenty of choices, there is a lot of girls there. Hotter than his fucking brat mom. "

“I beg your pardon?”

“What? It’s the frat concept, we’re brothers. And i'm gonna help my new bro. ”

"You really want to play that? You know, tutoring is easy. But you know what's even easier for me Rafe? It's being a mother. Being a mother to Wheezie is..."

“You’re really crazy, don’t you?”

“I think I just found someone who matched my freak then.”

“I dare you to approach Wheezie.”

“See you soon, Rafe. Oh and I forgot to say. ”

“ What ? ”

“ Did your father always be friendly with ‘neighbors' or your stepmom is so boring that he wouldn't mind having an affair ? I'm joking. Call me when you have time. Oh and you should invite me to those frat parties.”

“ Why i will do that ? ”

“ Stop bragging about it, your bros want some shows, Rafe. And i'm willing to give them. Just for you. ”

[yaniluvs]

⋆.˚ ⚾️ ⌇ 승민 : AS WE ARE ── a usual noon after uni, at your usual spot at one of the unoccupied fields of the small town. however, one day, it turned out you weren't the only person finding calm in the field anymore.

index | next ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）7.6k ── ༯ TWOSHOT (?) uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/mixed ethnicity. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ baseball seungmin. i repeat, BASEBALL SEUNGMIN >3< !! had this sitting in my drafts for way too long. so there may be more part(s) to this, because i certainly cannot put 15k+ words at once.. (╥﹏╥) . skzhop is out, and i'm in love with this song ever since the tour began, and the teaser. so here's a fic because i was desperate. also lowkey have mixed feelings about this fic, maybe it's too slow and uninteresting? (｡>﹏<) don't know, but well still hope you enjoy reading ! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the town was as calm as ever, the streets bathed in the soft, golden glow of a sunset that seemed to stretch on forever. the fading light brushed the buildings with a warm, almost nostalgic hue, casting long shadows that whispered of days gone by. it was one of those places where time didn’t hurry. you could almost feel the hours stretching out like elastic, letting the moments linger and settle into your bones.

people moved through the streets slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, some with their heads down, lost in their thoughts, others with eyes up, catching the last rays of the day.

the air was still, but it carried the faint scent of fresh grass and distant wood smoke. a few birds called out from the trees lining the streets, the kind of birds that didn’t seem to mind the quiet, the kind that you could almost hear thinking. the small shops, with their cozy little displays, looked like they could have been frozen in time—hand-painted signs swaying gently in the breeze, windows fogging up as the night began to cool. you could hear the distant chatter of a couple walking home, their voices blending into the soft rustling of the leaves.

even the cars, few as they were, rolled down the narrow streets at a leisurely pace, their tires humming softly on the asphalt. there was no rush, no hurry here. it was one of those rare places where people stopped to chat at the corner, where you could hear the laughter of children spilling from an open window, where everyone seemed to know everyone else, even if they didn't.

everything moved in its own rhythm here, the world spinning a little slower, like the way a good song seems to linger long after it’s finished. it wasn’t that there was nothing to do; it was more like there was no need to rush toward anything. life just seemed to breathe at its own pace, savoring the small moments, the everyday details that most people would overlook. and in this quiet, peaceful town, those little moments mattered the most.

she liked it that way. she appreciated the quiet, the simplicity of it all. it gave her space to think, to breathe, and to write.

that evening, the notebook in her bag felt heavier than usual. she was late to her usual spot—an old wooden bench with a matching table under a canopy of trees at the edge of the town’s recreational grounds. it wasn’t much, just a small patch of greenery with an equally small baseball field. the bench faced away from the field, toward the trees and the town beyond, but she had always been drawn to the way it felt tucked away, like her own secret place.

by the time she arrived, the sky had begun its shift to dusky purples and soft blues. she slowed her steps when you saw someone in the field. it was rare for anyone to be here at this hour.

a supposed guy stood near the netted boundary of the baseball field, his posture relaxed but focused as the fading light of the day cast long shadows across the grass. his black hair, slightly messy and fluffy, curled around his forehead in soft waves, contrasting with the sleek black cap pulled low over his eyes, hiding much of his expression. though not particularly tall or imposing, there was something effortlessly attractive about him—something that drew the eye without trying.

his left hand was occupied with a well-worn black glove, snug against his fingers, the leather creaking softly as he shifted his grip. he tossed the baseball into the air, its white surface catching the last of the sunlight before it descended, spinning in his palm with a fluid grace. with a practiced snap, he caught it again, the sound of the leather cracking as it hit the glove.

his movements were calm but precise, like someone lost in the rhythm of repetition, tossing the ball once more into the air. this time, with a slight tilt of his head, he threw it toward an imaginary target. it sailed through the air, its flight perfect, before hitting the ground with a faint, echoing thud. yet, even as he went through the motions, his gaze drifted, as though his mind was miles away, distracted by thoughts that had little to do with the game.

she hesitated. she hadn’t expected company.

she moved toward the bench anyway, settling into the usual spot. the boy hadn’t noticed her yet—or if he had, he just didn’t show it. his focus was absolute, each throw measured and deliberate. she pulled out her notebook but found herself glancing at him more instead of writing.

he moved like someone used to just.. being. there was something almost distant in his movements, a depth she couldn’t quite place. she tried not to stare, but the way he kept practicing, as though he was trying to lose himself in the rhythm, held her attention.

finally, she gave in to the curiosity, like always. she set the notebook aside, picked up the novel she'd been reading, and flipped it open. but even as she read, her gaze kept drifting back to him.

the boy threw another pitch. the ball ricocheted off the fence with a dull thud.

"do you always practice alone?"

her hesitant yet curious voice cut through the quiet like a feather brushing the air.

the boy froze mid-motion, his arm still raised from the throw. slowly, he turned toward her. his cap shadowed most of his face, but she could see his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t seem angry, just surprised—like he wasn’t used to being spoken to, let alone noticed.

"usually," he replied after a moment. his voice was quiet, slightly rough around the edges but not unkind.

she smiled faintly. "it must be peaceful," she said, voice as soft as the breeze that rustled through the trees. "just you and the field."

the boy tilted his head slightly, studying her. for a long moment, he didn’t respond.

"sometimes," he said finally, his tone nonchalant. he adjusted the brim of his cap and turned back to the field, tossing the baseball into his glove.

she watched him in silence, her curiosity growing. there was something about him—something quiet but heavy, like he was carrying more than he wanted to share.

"you’re.. good, at it," she spoke again after a while.

he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her figure. "at what?"

"pitching," she replied simply.

this time, he didn’t look away so quickly. his eyes lingered on her, studying her with a hint of skepticism, as if trying to figure out if she meant it.

"it’s just practice," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"practice makes perfect," she said lightly.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite manage it. instead, he shrugged and turned back to his routine.

she picked up her book again but kept sneaking glances at him. she didn’t know his name, didn’t know why he was here or what kept him coming back to this empty field, but something told her, that she would see him again.

and that thought—unexpected and soft—made her chest feel a little lighter.

the evening deepened, the world around them growing quieter, the coolness of the night settling over the ground. y/n had returned to her novel, but her eyes followed the boy more often than her fingers turned the pages. she wasn’t sure why she stayed so focused on him, why his presence intrigued her so much. maybe it was the rhythm of his movements or the way he seemed so lost in his own world.

the boy threw the ball again, a sharp and clean arc that hit the fence with a satisfying thud. he stood still for a moment, watching the ball bounce weakly and roll to a stop on the grass. then he went to retrieve it, his footsteps slow and heavy.

when he straightened and turned back toward the center of the field, yani spoke again.

"why here?"

he stopped mid-step, his body slightly stiff as he glanced at her. "what do you mean?"

she closed her book, setting it carefully on the table. her voice remained soft, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment. "i mean, why do you practice here? the town doesn’t even have a real baseball team, right?"

the boy’s brows furrowed, and his grip on the ball tightened. "it’s quiet," he said after a pause. 

“and well.. this is probably the only maintained baseball field here.”

“a-ah, right. guess i didn’t think of that.” she awkwardly smiled.

she tilted her head slightly, curious about the underlying weight in his tone. "still, quiet can be nice," she agreed. "but do you want it to be quiet?"

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the ball in his hand, turning it over slowly. then, almost too softly for her to hear, he murmured, "it’s better that way."

the words hung between them, laced with something she couldn’t quite name—resignation, maybe, or exhaustion. she studied him for a moment, her gaze lingering on the lines of his face, the way his shoulders seemed to carry the world.

"do you like it?" she asked, her voice gentle.

he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "what?"

"baseball," she clarified. "do you like playing it?"

his lips parted as if to answer immediately, but he stopped himself. he glanced back at the field, his gaze distant. "i used to," he said finally.

she frowned slightly. "used to?"

he shrugged, the motion heavy. "i don’t know. i guess i still do." he hesitated, as though debating whether to say more. "it’s… complicated."

she didn’t push. instead, she rested her chin on her hand, watching him with quiet curiosity. "it must mean something to you if you’re here every day," she said after a moment.

his head snapped toward her, his expression sharp for the first time. "how do you know i’m here every day?"

y/n blinked, startled by the sudden edge in his tone. "i don’t," she admitted quickly. "i’ve never been here this late before. i just assumed…"

the boy stared at her for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge her sincerity. then, with a soft exhale, he looked away. "sorry," he muttered.

"it’s okay," she said, her tone even softer than before.

for a while, neither of them spoke. the boy resumed his practice, and the girl opened her book again, though her mind wandered.

when he finally broke the silence, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant. "why are you here?"

"here?"

"yeah," he said, gesturing vaguely toward her bench. "at this time. you said you don’t usually come this late."

she smiled faintly. "i lost track of time," she admitted. "i was at uni, writing, and didn’t realize how late it was until i looked outside."

"you write?" he asked, his tone more curious now.

she nodded. "mostly in my notebook. nothing fancy. just thoughts, sometimes stories."

he tilted his head slightly, as if considering her answer. "why here, though?"

"it’s peaceful,"

his gaze flickered to her for a moment before he turned back to the field. "yeah," he said quietly. "it is."

the minutes stretched on, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable. she found herself stealing glances at him again, wondering about the story behind his tired eyes and quiet demeanor.

eventually, the boy pulled off his glove and tucked it under his arm. he picked up the baseball and walked toward the bench, stopping a few feet away.

"i’m seungmin," he said, his voice low but steady.

she looked up at him, surprised but pleased by the introduction. "y/n," she replied, her tone warm. "well, actually, y/f/n. but everyone just calls me y/n."

seungmin’s brows lifted slightly. "y/f/n?" he repeated, the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue awkwardly but not unkindly.

she nodded, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "it’s… a little hard to pronounce."

he didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her with a quiet intensity. then, unexpectedly, he said, "it’s nice."

she blinked, her blush deepening. "thank you."

seungmin nodded once, then glanced at the sky. "i should go," he said, his tone reluctant.

"okay," she said, her voice soft.

he hesitated for a moment before turning to leave, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

she watched him go, her chest feeling oddly warm. she had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they spoke. and for the first time in a while, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow.

the night deepened as she finally packed up her things. the notebook went into her bag first, followed by her novel. she cast a quick glance at the baseball field. it was empty now; seungmin had left without another word after their brief exchange.

she slung her bag over her shoulder and began walking down the narrow path that led out of the recreational grounds. the cool air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. she didn’t feel like going home just yet, even though it was late. there was something about the stillness of the town at night that made her want to wander.

the streets were quiet yet full of a few people here and there, as they always were after dark. a handful of lights flickered in the windows of small shops, and the occasional sound of a distant dog barking broke the silence. the old cobblestone streets felt comforting beneath her feet, and the familiar, worn-down charm of the town enveloped her like a warm embrace.

she passed by the tiny bookstore she frequented, its lights dimmed for the evening. she slowed, peering through the glass at the rows of books stacked neatly on wooden shelves. it was one of her favorite places, but tonight, she didn’t feel like going in.

instead, she walked further into the heart of the town, where the smell of roasted chestnuts lingered in the air from a street vendor’s cart that had long since closed. her thoughts drifted back to seungmin—the quiet boy with the tired eyes.

he had been so distant, so closed off, and yet… there was something about him that made her curious. she found herself wondering if he’d return to the field tomorrow, or if tonight had been some sort of exception.

eventually, her wandering brought her back to the residential streets. the houses here were modest but cozy, with little gardens that overflowed with wildflowers in the summer. she stopped in front of one of the smaller homes—a single-story house with a tiled roof and a little swing in the front yard.

the warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, and she could see the silhouettes of her grandparents moving inside. y/n smiled to herself as she stepped through the front gate.

“y/n, you’re late!” her grandmother’s voice called out the moment she opened the door.

“i know, sorry, gramma,” she said with a sheepish grin, slipping off her shoes. “i lost track of time.”

her grandmother appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. she was a petite woman with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “you shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night,” she scolded gently, though her tone was more worried than angry.

“let the girl breathe,” her grandfather said from the living room. he was seated in his favorite chair, a book resting open on his lap. “she’s young. young people like to roam.”

“i know that, but—” her grandmother shot him a look before turning back to their granddaughter. “it’s not safe.”

“it’s our town, grandma,” she said softly, setting her bag down by the door. “nothing ever happens here.”

“that doesn’t mean you should be careless,” her grandmother replied, though the worry in her voice had softened.

her grandfather chuckled, closing his book. “your grandma forgets that she used to sneak out of her parents’ house to meet me when we were young. remember that?”

her grandmother’s face flushed a faint pink, and she swatted at him with the dish towel. “that’s different!”

she laughed, the sound light and melodic. she loved moments like this, when her grandparents bantered like a young couple. they’d been married for over fifty years, and yet they still looked at each other with the same kind of warmth and affection that she imagined only existed in movies.

“are you hungry, dear?” her grandmother asked, turning her attention back to her. “i saved some stew for you.”

“starving,” she admitted, her stomach growling faintly as if to emphasize her point.

her grandmother smiled, motioning for her to sit at the kitchen table. “i’ll heat it up for you.”

as she sat down, her grandfather joined her, pulling out the chair across from her. “so,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “what were you doing out so late? writing again?”

she nodded, pulling her notebook out of her bag and setting it on the table. “and reading. i went to the grounds like always, but i stayed a little longer tonight.”

her grandmother set a steaming bowl of soup in front of her and raised a brow. “why longer?”

“there was.. someone else there,” she said casually, picking up her spoon.

her grandfather’s brow lifted. “someone else? that doesn’t happen often.”

“exactly what i thought,,” she agreed, stirring her soup. “he was practicing baseball. i think his name was.. seungmin..?”

her grandmother hummed thoughtfully as she sat down beside them. “is he a friend of yours?”

“not really. i just talked to him a bit.”

her grandfather leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “well, if he’s practicing baseball alone, he must be dedicated. or stubborn.”

“yeah,” she chuckled softly, “he was good at pitching, though, even if it was all alone. though.. there was something about him– he seemed a bit distant,”

“maybe he was lonely?”

“maybe..? but i don't think he wanted.. company. at least he didn't seem like it.”

she glanced at her grandparents, at the way her grandfather’s hand rested over her grandmother’s on the table, their fingers lightly intertwined. 

“do you think.. distant people want to be left alone?” she asked quietly.

her grandmother tilted her head, studying her with a thoughtful expression. “sometimes,” she said. “but not always. sometimes, they just don’t know how to ask for company.”

her grandfather nodded. “or they’re afraid of being hurt.”

her chest tightened slightly at their words. she thought of seungmin again, of his quiet replies and the way he’d said, it’s better that way.

“do you think he’ll come back?” she asked softly, more to herself than to her grandparents.

her grandmother smiled. “if he does, maybe you’ll be the company he doesn’t know he needs.”

she looked down at her soup, her mind drifting back to the empty baseball field. she didn’t know why she cared so much about a boy she’d just met, but a part of her hoped her grandmother was right.

and maybe, she’d have another chance to talk to him tomorrow.

the school courtyard was buzzing with the usual morning chatter—students gathered in clusters, discussing assignments, weekend plans, and the latest town gossip. y/n preferred to stay out of the bustle, so she slipped through the gates quietly, her guitar case slung over her shoulder.

her steps were light and deliberate as she made her way to the benches near the main building. it was her usual spot, tucked under the shade of a large tree where the morning light filtered through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on the ground.

she set her guitar case down carefully, adjusted her bag, and took out a small notebook. it was her sanctuary before the day’s classes began—a moment to gather her thoughts and jot down melodies or ideas.

“still writing your ideas away, y/nnie?”

the deep voice startled her, though it carried a warmth she recognized instantly. she looked up to see felix standing nearby, his hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer. his light blond hair fell slightly into his eyes, and a small smile played on his lips.

“maybe.. it's called sudden inspiration,” y/n replied softly, chuckling back.

felix chuckled, his voice low and soothing. “blah blah, same thing?” he dropped his bag onto the bench and sat beside her, leaning back with an air of easy calm. “so, what’s the plan for today? more serenading the trees with your guitar?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “not today. i’ve got a quiz later, and i promised myself i’d focus on studying.”

felix raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing. “you? worrying about a quiz? you’re probably already over-prepared.”

“maybe,” she admitted, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement. “but it’s better than being under-prepared.”

“fair point,” he conceded, glancing at her notebook. “what’s that? a new song?”

y/n hesitated for a moment before nodding. “just some scribbling. i don’t know if it’ll turn into anything yet.”

felix tilted his head, genuinely curious. “can i hear it sometime?”

“maybe,” she said, her tone playful. “if i ever finish it.”

felix smiled, leaning back against the bench. the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with unnecessary words. y/n appreciated that about felix—he didn’t push her to talk more than she wanted to, and his calm demeanor matched her own.

the warning bell rang, breaking the stillness.

“guess it’s time to face the day,” felix said, standing and slinging his bag over one shoulder.

y/n nodded, gathering her things. “see you at lunch?”

“of course,” he replied, giving her a small wave as he headed toward his classroom.

y/n watched him go for a moment before making her way to her own class. the halls were already filling with students, but she kept her head down, focusing on the soft melody still playing in her mind.

as she entered the classroom and took her seat by the window, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. the morning had been kind to her so far, and she was determined to carry that peace with her through the rest of the day.

after school, y/n packed her things and left the classroom with a light heart. the day had gone smoothly—no unexpected quizzes, no overwhelming assignments. she wasn’t one to feel bogged down by studies anyway; she took things in stride, balancing her love for learning with the simple joys of life.

her classmates were still lingering in the halls, some chatting in groups, others heading to cram school or their part-time jobs. y/n, however, had a different destination in mind. she slung her bag over her shoulder, her guitar case in hand, and stepped into the soft afternoon sun.

the streets were quiet as usual, the warm light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. y/n hummed softly to herself as she walked, her mind already drifting to the peace she always found at the field. she loved how the small town seemed to pause during this time of day, giving her a moment to feel completely at ease.

when she reached the recreational grounds, her gaze immediately swept toward the baseball field. it was empty, just as she had expected. the chain-link fence glinted in the sunlight, and the grass inside looked lush and green, untouched since yesterday.

she let out a soft sigh of relief.

placing her guitar case down at her usual bench by the trees, y/n settled in and opened her notebook. she had planned to study a little—reviewing notes for an upcoming essay—but the quiet of the field had a way of pulling her toward more creative pursuits.

instead of her school notes, she found herself flipping to a blank page, her pen poised over the paper as she searched for the melody she had been humming earlier. she tapped the pen lightly against her chin, letting the rhythm of the breeze and the rustling of the leaves guide her thoughts.

the minutes ticked by, and she found herself smiling faintly, not from anything in particular but from the simple pleasure of the moment. here, with the sunlight filtering through the trees and the town’s quiet hum in the background, everything felt just right.

after scribbling down a few lines of lyrics, she glanced toward the field again. she wondered, briefly, if the boy from yesterday would return. seungmin, she remembered. he had been so quiet, so distant, but there had been something about him that lingered in her mind.

shaking her head, she focused back on her notebook. it didn’t matter if he showed up or not. this was her time, her place, and she was perfectly content to spend it alone.

for now, the field was hers, and she intended to make the most of it.

as she continued her thing, the faint sound of footsteps on the gravel path caught her attention. curious, she glanced toward the baseball field, and her gaze landed on a figure she recognized immediately.

seungmin.

he wasn’t wearing his cap today, and his hair caught the sunlight as he walked toward the field, his usual baseball glove in one hand and a ball in the other. he moved with a quiet confidence, his posture relaxed but purposeful.

y/n blinked, momentarily surprised. he wasn’t usually here at this hour. she debated for a moment whether to say anything or let him pass unnoticed. but then, she thought about how reserved he had been the day before and decided to break the silence.

“came early today?”

her soft voice carried across the space, and seungmin’s steps slowed. he turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers with a flicker of recognition.

for a moment, he seemed caught off guard, but then he nodded, his expression neutral. “yeah.”

y/n tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. “why?”

seungmin shrugged, looking away as he tossed the baseball lightly into the air and caught it. “no reason.”

she studied him for a moment, noting the way he avoided meeting her gaze. there was something almost… guarded about him. “it’s nice to have company,” she said lightly, hoping to make him feel less self-conscious.

seungmin glanced at her briefly before walking to the field. “don’t mind me. just doing my thing.”

y/n chuckled softly and turned back to her notebook, her pen tapping gently against the page. she couldn’t help but keep an eye on him, though. he moved with precision, practicing throws toward an imaginary batter. his form was sharp, his focus unwavering, and it was clear he wasn’t just idly passing the time.

after a while, she spoke again, her voice cutting gently through the quiet. “are you preparing for something? a tournament?”

the question made him freeze mid-throw. his posture stiffened slightly, and he stood still for a moment before lowering the ball.

“no,” he said, his tone flat. “it’s just a hobby. a way to pass the time.”

y/n frowned slightly, sensing the subtle shift in his mood. the energy around him seemed to dull, his earlier ease replaced by something heavier. she wanted to ask more but thought better of it.

instead, she offered a soft smile. “you’re really good for it to be just a hobby.”

he turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. “thanks,” he said simply, his voice quieter than before. then, as if to change the subject, he added, “what about you? always writing in that notebook?”

y/n’s smile widened slightly at the question. “most of the time,” she admitted. “it helps me clear my head.”

“what do you write?” he asked, his tone casual but with a trace of curiosity.

“songs,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “sometimes poems. whatever comes to mind.”

seungmin nodded, tossing the ball gently into the air again. “that’s… cool.”

they fell into a comfortable silence after that, with y/n returning to her notebook and seungmin continuing his throws. despite his earlier reticence, he didn’t seem as distant now.

around 3:30, y/n noticed a few figures approaching the field. she tilted her head, watching as a group of boys made their way toward seungmin.

“hey, cap!” one of them called, grinning as he waved.

seungmin turned, his demeanor shifting slightly. he gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and tossed the ball toward the boy, who caught it with ease.

y/n blinked, caught off guard. cap?

the group of boys—about six or seven of them—seemed at ease with seungmin, chatting and laughing as they warmed up on the field. y/n watched quietly, realizing this was a side of him she hadn’t seen before.

“you have a team?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

seungmin glanced at her, his expression unreadable again. “yeah. we play here in the evenings.”

“oh,” y/n said, her tone soft. “i didn’t know.”

“you’re gone by then,” he pointed out, his voice matter-of-fact.

she nodded, her gaze drifting back to the group as they continued their playful banter. they seemed close, their energy lively but grounded.

“well,” she said after a moment, closing her notebook and standing. “i guess i’ll leave you to it.”

seungmin’s brows furrowed slightly, though he said nothing.

y/n slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case. before leaving, she offered him a gentle smile. “see you around, seungmin.”

he nodded, his gaze following her briefly before returning to his team.

as she walked away, she couldn’t help but feel a new curiosity about the quiet, guarded boy who seemed to carry more than he let on.

y/n adjusted her guitar case, deciding she wasn’t quite ready to go home. she checked her phone, seeing a message from felix confirming their usual plan to meet at the café. a smile crept onto her lips as she quickened her pace, the familiar path to the cozy little spot etched into her mind.

the café sat tucked into a quiet corner of town, its faded brick façade and wide glass windows giving it a rustic charm. y/n stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of baked goods welcoming her.

felix was already there, seated near the window with a cup of tea in front of him. he glanced up as the bell above the door chimed, and his calm expression softened into a small smile.

“right on time,” he said, his deep voice carrying a note of teasing.

“i’m always on time,” y/n replied, her tone light as she slid into the chair across from him. she set her guitar case beside the table and leaned back, letting the café’s warm atmosphere envelop her.

felix raised an eyebrow. “is that what you tell yourself when you’re five minutes late?”

“okay, once. that happened once.”

felix chuckled and sipped his tea. “how was the field today? same as always?”

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “pretty much. though… there’s this guy who’s always there. seungmin. i didn’t expect to see him earlier than usual.”

felix tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “seungmin? the baseball guy?”

“yeah,” y/n said, fiddling with the edge of her notebook. “he’s quiet. keeps to himself. but i found out he has a team. they usually play in the evenings.”

“interesting,” felix murmured. “maybe he’s a future pro in disguise.”

y/n shrugged, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “maybe.”

after finishing their drinks, the two friends decided to roam the town. the streets were alive with their usual charm—small shops lining the cobblestone paths, vendors selling trinkets, and the faint hum of conversations blending with the distant rustle of trees.

eventually, they arrived at their usual street food spot, a tiny stall nestled in a busy corner where the smell of grilled skewers and noodles filled the air.

felix handed over the cash for their order before y/n could protest. “my treat,” he said firmly.

“you always say that,” y/n replied, accepting the steaming skewer of fish cakes he handed her.

“because it’s true,” he said, taking a bite of his own food.

they found a small table nearby and ate while chatting about their day. y/n shared stories about her classes, and felix listened with quiet interest, occasionally offering his own dry, witty remarks that made her laugh.

as they finished their food, y/n’s gaze wandered across the street, where a group of boys had gathered around another street food stall. her breath caught for a moment when she recognized seungmin among them.

so it is a small world.

he stood slightly off to the side, holding a skewer in one hand while his friends chatted and laughed around him. though he wasn’t as animated as the others, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his face—a subtle ease in his demeanor that softened his usual guardedness.

y/n couldn’t help but smile internally. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this, surrounded by his friends, blending into the lively rhythm of the town.

“earth to y/n?” felix’s voice broke through her thoughts.

she blinked, turning back to him. “sorry, what?”

felix followed her gaze briefly and raised an eyebrow. “someone you know?”

“kind of,” she said, her voice soft. “that’s seungmin. from the field.”

“ah,” felix said, a note of amusement in his tone. “seems like he’s not as much of a loner as you thought.”

y/n smiled faintly, not replying. she watched as seungmin’s friends laughed at something one of them said, their voices carrying over the street. though he didn’t laugh with them, seungmin’s expression wasn’t as distant as usual—he looked… at ease.

for a moment, y/n considered walking over to say hello, but she quickly dismissed the thought. it didn’t feel like the right time.

from her point, she could see him more clearly now than she had at the field. he was at the edge of the group, his hands in his pockets and his expression composed but not cold. while his friends laughed and gestured animatedly, seungmin offered occasional comments, his voice quieter but not entirely detached.

her lips curved into a faint smile. there was something intriguing about the way he carried himself—not quite aloof but not fully immersed in the chaos of his friends either. he seemed comfortable yet separate, as though he existed in a world slightly apart from everyone else.

she watched as the group stopped near a food cart selling roasted sweet potatoes. one of the boys elbowed seungmin, clearly joking about something, and though seungmin didn’t laugh, his lips twitched upward in the briefest of smiles.

y/n’s heart warmed at the sight. it was such a small thing, but it made him seem less distant than he usually appeared.

realizing she’d been staring, y/n quickly looked back at felix, as they walked out of the stall.

the morning sunlight spilled gently into the cozy kitchen, illuminating the worn wooden table where the family gathered. y/n sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, sipping on her cup of hot tea. her hair was pulled back into a lazy braid, still slightly messy from sleep. the kitchen smelled of freshly cooked pancakes, courtesy of her grandma, who was bustling near the stove with her usual cheerful hum.

her grandpa, seated across from y/n with his morning paper, folded it down just enough to peer at her. “so, young lady,” he started, his tone casual but with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “what are your big plans for today?”

y/n shrugged, tearing a small piece of her pancake. “nothing much. probably read, maybe play guitar for a bit. why?”

“well,” he said, setting the paper aside with exaggerated care. “your old man here was thinking… how about we wash the car together? it’s looking mighty sorry out there.”

y/n smirked. “you mean you want me to wash the car while you supervise?”

he gasped, feigning shock. “what kind of slander is this? supervise? me? no, no. it’s teamwork, kiddo. bonding time.”

her grandma chimed in with a snort, flipping another pancake. “bonding time, huh? more like you’ll do half the job and then mysteriously need a break.”

“hey now!” he defended, raising his hands. “who said i wouldn’t pull my weight? besides, i’m offering quality fatherly wisdom while we work. isn’t that worth something?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “alright, alright, gramps. i’ll help. i was planning to wash my bike anyway.”

“atta girl,” her grandpa said, leaning back triumphantly. “we’ll get started after breakfast, then.”

-

“finally!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “thought you’d decided to ditch me for a second there.”

“relax, gramps,” y/n said, grinning as she tucked one earphone into her left ear. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

they rolled up their sleeves and got to work. y/n filled a bucket with soapy water while gramps grabbed the hose. mellow acoustic music played softly in her ear, a comforting backdrop to the task at hand.

“so,” gramps started, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt, “what’s the deal with that baseball kid you keep mentioning? seungmin, right?”

y/n paused mid-scrub, narrowing her eyes at him. “why do you keep bringing him up?”

“just curious,” he said innocently, though the teasing grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “seems like he’s a topic of interest lately.”

“he’s just someone i see at the field sometimes,” y/n replied, focusing a little too intently on the car. “not that interesting.”

“uh-huh,” grandpa said, not convinced. “you should bring him over sometime. i’ll teach him how to really swing a bat.”

y/n laughed. “you don’t even play baseball, gramps!”

“oh, you know too less young lady,” he mumbled with a dismissive wave. “anyway, finish up the roof while i grab something from the shed. your grandma thinks i forgot the wax.”

y/n shook her head as he walked off, muttering under his breath about how many things grandma likes to remind him of.

with grandpa gone, y/n slipped the other earphone in and turned the volume up. the soothing strums of guitar and mellow vocals filled her ears as she focused on scrubbing every inch of the car. she moved methodically, dipping the sponge into the bucket and humming softly to herself. the sunlight caught on the small beads of water dripping from the car, casting tiny rainbows onto the pavement.

she was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t notice the figure walking down the street.

seungmin.

hold on, seungmin?

he’d been heading home after a quick errand, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, when his gaze fell on her. at first, he thought it was someone else. but as he slowed his pace, he realized it was her.

y/n, standing there in the sunlight, completely immersed in what she was doing. her loose tee shifted slightly with her movements, and her messy bun framed her face in an effortlessly pretty way. the music in her ears left her unaware of his presence, and for a moment, seungmin just stood there, watching.

she looked different from the girl he usually saw at the field—less polished, more relaxed. but it suited her.

he debated for a second, then called out, “came to scrub cars now, huh?”

y/n startled, pulling out one earphone and spinning around. when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise, her voice squeaking. “seungmin?”

“you missed a spot,” he said, pointing to the car with a faint smirk.

y/n looked at him, then down at the car, and deadpanned. “did you come all the way here just to tell me that?”

“was passing by,” he said with a shrug, though the truth felt far more complicated.

“well, since you’re here,” she said, holding out the sponge with a grin, “care to help?”

seungmin hesitated, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “not a chance.”

“figures,” y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully. “you baseball types are all the same. no multitasking skills.”

he raised an eyebrow. “pretty sure scrubbing cars isn’t a skill.”

“then you should try it,” she challenged.

before he could respond, gramps peeked out from the doorway, watching the scene with a grin. “who’s that?” he called, pretending to be oblivious.

“just a passerby, gramps!” y/n yelled back, glancing at seungmin with an amused smile.

gramps disappeared back inside, leaving them to their banter.

“you’re weird,” seungmin said finally, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“thanks,” y/n replied with an awkward laugh. “it’s part of my charm.”

"they won't let me live it down," she whispered exaggeratedly yet subtly, glancing back at the door her grandpa had just walked through, to get inside.

"i see," his gaze followed hers. "well, i'll let you carry on then,"

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond before he turned to leave. “see you around, car girl.”

y/n watched him walk away, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the car.

y/n stood there for a moment, still holding the sponge in her hand as seungmin disappeared down the street. a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself, her cheeks faintly warm. she shook her head to snap out of it and went back to scrubbing the car, the music in her earphones still playing softly.

just as she was finishing the final rinse, she heard the familiar shuffle of her grandpa’s shoes coming back into the garage. he had the tin of car wax in one hand and a slightly smug expression on his face.

“well, well, well,” he started, drawing out the words as he leaned against the car. “was that the young baseball kid you’ve been talking about?”

y/n groaned immediately, her cheeks heating up again. “gramps, stop. he was just passing by!”

“sure he was,” gramps said, his voice dripping with teasing skepticism. he crossed his arms, eyeing her closely. “funny coincidence, don’t you think? this small town, this exact street, just happening to walk by while you’re here looking like… well, like you do right now.”

“grandpa!” she exclaimed, spinning around to splash a little soapy water in his direction.

“alright, alright!” he said, dodging the splash but grinning from ear to ear. “but you can’t blame me for being curious. he seemed like a decent kid, though he could use a bit more enthusiasm in his voice. not much of a talker, is he?”

“not really,” y/n admitted, sighing as she wrung out the sponge. “but he’s… nice. i think.”

before grandpa could press further, gramma appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she took in the scene. “who’s this you’re talking about?” she asked, her sharp eyes darting between the two of them.

“oh the boy,” gramps said casually, but his grin betrayed him. “the baseball kid y/n’s been bumping into, at the field.”

gramma’s eyebrows shot up. “oh? he’s come to visit now, has he?”

“no!” y/n exclaimed, exasperated. “he was just walking by, and gramps decided to make a whole scene out of it.”

gramma chuckled as she came closer, inspecting y/n’s work on the car. “sounds to me like gramps is just jealous. wasn’t he a baseball boy himself back in the day?”

y/n blinked, turning to look at her grandpa. “wait, what? you were?”

gramps cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit bashful. “well, i wouldn’t say baseball boy, exactly…”

“don’t let him fool you,” gramma interjected, her voice full of pride. “he was one of the best players in town back in his day. made it all the way to the intertown tournaments. brought home trophies too!”

“trophies?” y/n asked, her jaw dropping. “grandpa, why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “didn’t seem all that important. it was a long time ago, kiddo.”

“not important?” gramma scoffed, smacking his arm lightly. “you still have those trophies sitting in the attic. he was the talk of the town back then.”

y/n stared at her grandpa in amazement. “wow, that’s so cool! why’d you stop?”

gramps hesitated, his usual playful demeanor softening. “life happened,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “family came first. had to make some choices, you know? i met your beautiful grandmother.”

y/n nodded, sensing there was more to the story but not wanting to push. “still, i had no idea you were so good at baseball. that’s… amazing.”

gramps brightened a bit at her words, a small smile tugging at his lips. “well, maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two one of these days. can’t have that baseball kid showing me up if he ever comes around again.”

gramma chuckled, shaking her head. “you two are impossible. now, finish up here before the sun sets. and y/n, don’t let him skip out on the waxing this time.”

“hey!” gramps protested, but he was already reaching for the wax.

as y/n worked on her bike nearby, she couldn’t help but glance toward the street again, wondering if seungmin would pass by a second time. her grandpa’s quiet hum and her gramma’s occasional comments from the kitchen filled the air with a warmth that made her heart feel full.

even as she focused on her tasks, seungmin’s image lingered in her mind—his slightly awkward but oddly endearing presence, the way he smirked just enough to show he was teasing.

she shook her head, smiling to herself. her grandparents were going to have a field day if they caught her thinking about him again.

[cheynovak]

A siren's call

Characters: Soldier boy x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:   After decades apart, Ben hears a voice in a smoky bar—a voice that draws him like a siren’s call. It belongs to Y/N, the woman he lost long ago. Unable to resist, he confronts her after her performance.

Warnings: soft sexual tension, not much

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The night was bitter, the wind slicing through the streets of New York like a razor. Ben adjusted his shirt and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The world had changed in the forty years since he was taken out of it, but some parts of the city still held a certain timelessness.

It was the smell of rain on the pavement, the occasional jazz note spilling from an open window, the flickering neon signs—things that reminded him of a time when he still thought he was invincible, when he thought he had it all. He paused in front of a bar, the sign above it old and cracked but still legible.

The Velvet Rose. A place he'd known once, back when jazz and blues were whispered rebellions in a world that forbade them. His boots crunched on the wet sidewalk as he debated moving on, but then he heard it—a voice so rich and sweet it stopped him cold. He turned toward the sound, his heart pounding like a war drum. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her.

The voice he hadn’t heard since the '70s, the one that haunted his dreams. Y/N. No. She would be long gone by now, her laugh a ghost, her memory as faded as an old Polaroid. But his feet betrayed him, carrying him toward the sound. He pushed the door open, the dim amber light spilling out to greet him like an old friend. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and nostalgia.

The clink of glasses and murmurs of conversation faded into the background as he found the staircase to the basement. His boots hit each step with the weight of disbelief. And there she was. The room was a time capsule, untouched by decades of change. The polished wood, the velvet curtains, the smoky haze—all of it could have been lifted straight from 1957.

But it was her who held his attention. She stood on the stage, bathed in the warm glow of a spotlight. Her red silk dress hugged her in all the ways he remembered, her every movement a melody in itself. She swayed with the music, her voice wrapping around the room like a velvet ribbon.

His chest tightened. She hadn’t aged a day. Men filled the room, transfixed, but for her, they were background noise. As her song reached its crescendo, her eyes swept across the room and landed on him. Just for a moment. To anyone else, it would have been nothing—a glance, a flicker of acknowledgment. But he saw it. Recognition.

Her voice faltered, just slightly, so imperceptibly no one else would have noticed. But he did. He saw the way her breath hitched, the way her grip on the microphone tightened. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause. She smiled, graceful as ever, and thanked the audience before disappearing behind the velvet curtain.

He didn’t think. He moved. Down a narrow hallway, past murmuring patrons and waitstaff, he found the door. A security guard stepped forward, the tension palpable. The man was no pushover, towering over Ben with arms like tree trunks. But Ben didn’t flinch, his steely gaze unwavering.

Before it could escalate, her voice rang out, rich and commanding. “It’s OK, Marcel. As much as I would like the see you two alfa's fight, you can let him in.” Marcel hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped aside.

Ben pushed past him without a glance, his eyes locked on the door she had disappeared behind. Inside, the room was dimly lit, soft and intimate. She was there, seated at a vanity, her back to him. Her hands worked through her hair, undoing the intricate style. It cascaded down in waves, framing her shoulders and collarbone.

The sight was breathtaking, but it was the way she turned and smiled at him that sent a punch straight to his gut. “I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.

“How?” was all Ben could manage, his voice raw. She stood, her red dress replaced by a long, luxurious robe trimmed with fur on the sleeves. Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room toward him. “Would you have believed me,” she began, tilting her head slightly, “if I told you back then you weren’t the only one?”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation. She huffed a soft, disbelieving laugh, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Oh, Ben,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

Before she could step away, his hand was behind her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other, his breath warm against her face. Their eyes searched each other’s, a silent conversation passing between them. He began to lean in, his lips almost brushing hers, when she whispered, “Let me go, Ben.”

His body obeyed, his arms releasing her as though her words had taken away his will to resist. “So that’s it,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You can manipulate people?”

Her eyes softened as she stepped back, wrapping the robe tighter around herself. “Men,” she admitted. “I’m a siren.” She moved to sit on the edge of the vanity, her elegance unshaken. Ben followed, standing behind her.

His eyes caught hers in the mirror, locking them in place. “Did you…” he began, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Did you use it on me?” She smiled, but it was a sad, wistful expression, her gaze dropping before she answered. “You wouldn’t have run to her if I did.”

The mention of her hit him like a slap. Crimson Countess. The woman he thought he loved. The woman who had betrayed him in every way that mattered. “Her,” Ben said, his voice thick with regret. “My biggest mistake.”

Y/N’s expression softened further, a mixture of understanding and sorrow. “You weren’t yourself, Ben. And maybe… if I had fought a little harder, gave you a little more of myself. But what’s done is done.” He wanted to argue, wanted to apologize, but the words caught in his throat.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he finally asked, his reflection pleading with hers. “Because I wanted it to be your choice, and you chose her.” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Even if it meant losing you. I needed to be sure you loved me for me.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with years of unspoken truths and what-ifs. Ben reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder in a tentative gesture.

"How is she?" her voice cracked as the words left her mouth, heavy with a mix of anger and grief. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “Dead.” Her lips parted, and she began to murmur, “I’m sor—” “Don’t.” His tone was sharp, cutting her off.

He stepped back, his hands balling into fists. “I killed her.” The words hung in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said. Y/N’s eyes searched his face, trying to gauge what lay beneath his hardened exterior. “Why?”

“Because she betrayed me.” She turned around, her gaze locking onto his. “Is that what you’re here to do, Ben? To kill me?” The question struck like a thunderclap.

Ben’s knees gave out, and he sank to the floor before her, his hands reaching for hers. “Never,” he said, his voice breaking. “Never you. I—I came to beg. For forgiveness, for leaving you. For everything.” Her fingers slid over his, trembling slightly. Slowly, she stood up before him, her hand finding its way to his face.

Her touch was light, but it burned into him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. “Get up, Ben,” she said softly. “This doesn’t suit you.” He let her guide him to his feet, the weight of his guilt still clinging to him like a second skin. “Besides,” she added, her lips curving into a faint smile, “it wasn’t me. It was the song. That’s what brought you back to me.”

Ben shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s not the song. It’s you. It’s always been you.” She hesitated, her hand still lingering against his chest. There was something in her eyes—doubt, maybe even fear, did he mean it? Could Ben be immune if he wanted to? But she couldn't find out, him leaving her again would break her heart.

She had heard tales of sirens losing the love of their life. Once their heart had been broken, their life song would end and slowly so would they. She had been scared to give Ben her heart, and it turned out she was right about it.

She turned toward the door, reaching for the handle to let him out. Before she could pull it open, Ben’s hand shot out, pushing it closed with a force that reverberated through the room. She gasped softly, caught between the door and his body, her back pressing into the wood.

His hands found her waist, holding her firmly but not harshly. His breath fanned against her skin as his face hovered just inches from hers. “Ben…”

He didn’t wait. He didn’t think. He kissed her, the kind of kiss that shattered walls and erased time. Hot and heavy, full of all the years they’d lost, the pain they’d endured, and the longing that had never died. At first, she froze, but then he felt it—the way her lips softened against his, the way her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

And then he heard it, soft and sweet, the sound that had always undone him. “Ben…” she moaned, his name rolling off her tongue like honey. It was like a dam breaking.

Every memory of them came rushing back, flooding his senses. Nights spent tangled in silk sheets. Her laugh echoing in the quiet moments between battles. The way she’d once looked at him, as though he were the only thing in the world that mattered. His lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck, before resting against her collarbone as he caught his breath.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. She lifted his chin, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him feel like he might drown. “Ben.” It wasn’t just a name. It was a promise. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her, grounding himself in the reality that she was here, alive, and real. And this time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.

Ben's lips moved with desperate precision, tracing the curve of her neck, her shoulder, and down to her collarbone. Each kiss was a plea, a claim, a reminder that she was his, even after all these years.

"Again," he ordered, his voice low and rough against her skin. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “Oh, Ben…” His hands slid to the bow of her robe, tugging at it with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

The fabric loosened, falling open to reveal her to him. His gaze swept over her, filled with reverence and need. His hands roamed, not gentle but not cruel, driven by years of longing and regret. But then her voice came again, soft but firm, anchoring him.

“Ben…wait” His hands stilled, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. “I need you,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to pierce through the haze of his desire. “I need you too, baby,” he said quickly, leaning in, his lips brushing against hers again.

“No, Ben,” she murmured, her hands coming up to frame his face, stopping him. Her eyes locked onto his, filled with vulnerability, longing, and something deeper. “I need you… like I used to have you.”

He froze, her words sinking in. The raw emotion in her gaze tore through him, replacing the fire in his chest with something softer, something warmer. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

“Anything,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Anything you want. I promise.” She nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. This time, when their lips met, it wasn’t rushed or rough. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the love and pain that had never really gone away.

He guided her back toward the large sofa in the room, his movements gentle now, reverent, as though she might disappear if he wasn’t careful. “Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right. I’ll give you everything. Just… tell me what you need.”

Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer, grounding him. “make love to me,” she said softly.

“I just need you.”

--

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[kisses4sarang]

THE HABIT OF YOU (ft.hanni)

A/N : Horrible Writing 😭 (English is not my first language so,grammar error)

It was very late—much too late to be walking alone on the streets of Seoul. But there you were, wrapped up in your jacket to protect against the cold night air, heading to a place you hadn't been to in months: the small, unremarkable café that had once been your special spot with Hanni.

The café's warm light spilled out onto the empty sidewalk, and without even thinking, you walked inside. The bell above the door made its gentle chime, a sound so familiar it made your heart ache.

You used to love this place because it was peaceful and tucked away, away from the busy crowds. Now, you disliked it for the same reason. It was a constant reminder of Hanni.

The barista smiled politely as you ordered your drink, your voice almost lost in the soft jazz music playing in the background. You sat down by the window, the same spot you always used to choose when Hanni was with you.

It was just a habit, really—something you couldn’t stop doing.

_________________________________________

You believed you were ready for times like this. But as you looked out at the empty streets, the memories rushed back.

Hanni’s laughter when she joked about you always choosing the same drink. How she’d always try to take sips from your cup, even though she had her own. Her fingers touching yours under the table, unsure but intentional, as if she was exploring a love that seemed too perfect to be real.

You closed your eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath. She wasn’t here anymore. You had let her go—no, you both had let each other go.

It wasn’t a sad ending, just...unavoidable. Her world had become bigger, brighter, and busier with each step in her career. You tried to stay close, but it became clear that her growing success was taking her farther away from you.

And so, you moved aside.

_________________________________________

"Y/N?"

Her voice caught you off guard, so familiar and yet so unexpected that you froze.

You looked up and saw her—Hanni. She seemed different, with shorter hair and tired eyes, but she was still the same girl who had once meant everything to you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The café seemed to quiet down, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

She gave a small, sad smile. "I was about to ask you the same thing.

_________________________________________

Hanni paused before sitting down across from you. Her hands were moving around—something she always did when she felt anxious.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said quietly.

You felt a lump in your throat, her presence making you feel a bit overwhelmed. “Me neither.”

For a moment, you both just sat there, the quietness between you was strong but not too uncomfortable. It was filled with things you both didn’t say, with memories that you couldn’t forget.

“I miss this place,” she finally said, looking around the room. “I miss...a lot of things.”

You didn’t need her to explain. You understood what she meant, because you felt the same way.

_________________________________________

“I thought I was making the right choice,” Hanni said suddenly, her voice shaky. “Letting you leave. I thought it would be better for both of us.”

You felt a lump in your throat. “Was it?”

She looked at you, her eyes filled with tears she hadn’t let fall. “No.”

The word hung in the air, honest and exposed.

“I thought I could manage it,” she continued, her voice unsteady. “But every time I go to a café, I think of you. Every time I hear a silly joke, I want to share it with you. You’ve become this...this habit I can’t stop.”

Your heart hurt hearing her say that, because it was exactly how you felt too.

“I know we can’t go back to how things used to be,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I need you to know that I still—”

You reached across the table, your fingers touching hers. It was a small move, but it was enough to stop her from talking.

“I know,” you said gently. “Me too.”

_________________________________________

The rest of the night was a mix of soft talking and shy smiles. There were no big promises, no plans to fix everything. Just two people realizing that their connection had never really ended.

When the café shut down and you both went back outside into the cold night, Hanni looked at you, her breath showing in the cool air.

“Can we give it another shot?” she asked, her voice almost begging.

You paused, not because you didn’t want to, but because you were scared. Scared of going back to the same old problems, the same hurt.

But when you looked into her eyes, you knew that some habits weren’t meant to change.

“Yes,” you said at last, your voice strong. “Let’s try again.”

Hanni smiled then—a true, bright smile—and for the first time in months, you felt something close to hope.

_________________________________________

[aishangotome]

[Darius Vogel] I Can't Return to a Time Before You Bitter Ending

We were chasing after the gentleman who had bumped into Darius in the busy street.

(The sun has set more than before.)

The atmosphere of night was approaching, and the sky was turning a dusky black as if ink had been spilled on it.

Darius: What a dirty street. I don't want to go in there.

The gentleman had entered a deserted street with garbage scattered about and graffiti all over the walls ––.

I hesitated for a moment before entering.

(Oh...!)

Rough-looking men who emerged from the alleys on either side of the street surrounded the gentleman and pointed knives at him.

By the time I realized they were robbers, it was too late.

A dull, gleaming object was pressed against the gentleman's abdomen, and he crumpled to the ground, his body bent in a U-shape.

Kate: He's been stabbed... Mmmph!

A hand reached out from beside me and covered my mouth, stifling the cry that was about to escape.

Darius: Shh, if they notice us, we'll be caught up in this too.

With my mouth covered, I watched the scene unfolding before my eyes, a chill running down my spine.

Man rummaging through pockets: Is this all the valuables he has? Not a bad haul. What about you?

Man rummaging through bag: This one... Eek, what is this? It's creepy.

(Creepy?)

I couldn't help but lean forward and try to peek into the alley ––.

Darius: You're such a curious child. But we can't, we'll be spotted.

Darius pulled me back, and all I could hear were the men's voices.

Man rummaging through pockets: Tch, for such a fancy bag, this is a real letdown.

Man rummaging through bag: We can't sell this. Let's get out of here.

As the footsteps faded away, Darius's hand that was covering my mouth also let go.

Darius: As you can see, this street is dangerous, so we should leave quickly.

Kate: Um, wait a minute.

The moment I tried to step out onto the street, Darius stepped forward as if to stop me.

Darius: Don't tell me you're going after the thieves. If something happens to you, Victor will give me a lecture.

Kate: I understand your position, Darius. I won't do anything reckless here. But...

(If he's still alive...)

I jumped over Darius's leg and ran to the gentleman lying on the ground.

But –– the gentleman was dead before I could even check for a heartbeat.

Darius: Oh dear, he's not breathing anymore.

Darius, who had followed me, looked down at the gentleman and said nonchalantly.

(Is this the "worst possible future" that Darius was talking about?)

Darius's ability to see the worst possible future a person will experience just by touching them.

I gasped as I witnessed his cursed ability and the worst possible future that had actually come to pass.

Then I noticed another peculiarity.

Kate: This is...

Scattered around the gentleman's corpse –– a tremendous number of blades.

Moreover, there were many blades with shapes that couldn't be obtained normally.

(The knife that took his life is still stuck in his abdomen. Then, what about these blades?)

(Why are there so many knives in his bag...? And is this blood?)

A reddish-black substance was clinging to some of the sharp blades.

Darius: I saw it in the newspaper this morning. They said a dismembered body was found in the city yesterday.

Darius: The body was cleanly dissected along the muscle lines.

Darius: The opinion was that it would be impossible to do such a thing without using special blades and having expert knowledge.

Darius: By the way, the murder weapon hasn't been found yet.

(Could it be that the culprit is...?)

I looked at the gentleman, who would never open his eyes again.

There's no way to confirm his identity, but judging from his unusual belongings, he's probably not an ordinary citizen.

I thought a good citizen had been attacked by robbers and lost his life –– but...

A murderer who made the headlines was killed without anyone knowing... Is that the truth?

(One thing is clear: only Darius knew his fate.)

Kate: You could see the worst possible future, so why didn't you help him, Darius?

Darius: Are you dissatisfied with this ending?

Darius: But the answer is simple. It's because this man wasn't worth saving.

Darius declared cruelly, with an angelic face.

Darius: There's no point in helping him, is there? Of course, it's different if he has any use.

Darius: In that sense––which side are you on?

His fingertip gently stroked my neck.

Despite the gentle touch, a shiver of fear ran through me as if the Grim Reaper's scythe had been placed against me.

Darius: Hahaha, just kidding. Don't be scared.

Darius: You're my lover today, so of course I'd save you, right?

(I wonder why. Is it just me, or does Darius seem to despise humans?)

It's not just his appearance that resembles an angel.

He looks down on humans from far above as if he lives in the heavens, unconsciously sorting them... I get that feeling.

Kate: I'm honored to be saved by you. But I decide who saves me.

Perhaps I shouldn't take his words about "saving" at face value.

Darius: Then I have no choice but to train you to be loved.

Kate: ? I don't follow...

Darius: It means I'm a little interested in you right now. You should be honored, you know?

Darius: That's right, if you're properly trained and become a good girl...

Darius: I might even give you special treatment in the new order we're building.

Darius laughed cheerfully to himself.

Darius: Come on, let's go. This bloody murder scene doesn't suit us as lovers.

Sweet, honey-colored eyes beckoned me, urging me to leave this dangerous street.

Kate: W-what about reporting it?

Darius: It's a hassle to be questioned about all sorts of things, so let's just pretend we don't know anything, okay?

The angelic Darius whispered like a devil ––.

Darius: Thank you for today. I'll walk you back to Crown Castle. As your "lover" until the very end... okay?

He gently intertwined his fingers with mine and started walking.

Before I knew it, his hands were wearing pristine gloves.

(He had spare gloves with him.)

The gloves that got dirty when he ate the mille-feuille are in my pocket.

(When I wash the gloves and clean them, I'll visit Darius.)

Surely, by then, I'll be able to know more about him.

Perhaps I think this way –– because I've become fascinated by a darkness I don't know.

FIN

.

.

.

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[oddsconvert]

August trying to make Christmas cookies or a ginger bread house. He is very bad at it. He checks the recipe every ten seconds, and still gets something wrong.

cw / recovery whump, fluff, vampire caretaker, bloodbag whumpee (recovering), reference to previous torture/captivity, wholesome asf baking

Huge TY to @dragonqueenslayer6 for the prompt!!! ❤️

August glared at the recipe card like it might bite him. As far as he was concerned, it was written in some ancient, lost language. He couldn’t decipher it to save his life. His plan? To throw everything in a bowl and hope for some miracle - pray that his cookies would be at the very least, edible.

“Alright, okay, let’s see…” August mumbled to himself, reading over the recipe for what felt like the gazillionth time, tracing each line with his finger. He gawked at his chaotic array of ingredients sprawled across the counters. Flour, butter, eggs, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, baking powder, icing sugar, sprinkles - each one looked more alien than the last. 

He couldn’t help but marvel at how complicated human food was. Compared to the simplicity of blood, this whole process felt like a science experiment. One that was destined to end in smoke and flames. It was all completely foreign to him. He’d never had to worry about meals—Lucas was self-sufficient enough. The only thing August ever had to handle was the shopping list. 

But he really wanted to do this. He wanted to bake the two most important people in his life a sweet treat, a small promise that all their Christmases from now on would be as magical and joyous as this one. His chest tightened at the thought of his friends - how much they had both suffered in their short lives. Marked by so much pain and anguish, so many Christmases spent in loneliness and hardship. Lucas with his years sleeping rough on the streets, alone and afraid. Declan, at the mercy of Vince’s whims, his mind and body twisted beyond his control. 

He couldn’t let them down now.

August’s mind momentarily blanked. “Sugar. Sugar, sugar…where would Lucas keep the sugar?” 

It felt bizarre, scavenging through his own kitchen as if he were a stranger in his own home. August rifled through the cupboards, pulling out a small glass container. He shook it gently, watching the white granules spill out, and without much thought, assumed it was the sugar he was looking for. The recipe had called for one cup of sugar.

“What are you doing, August?”

August whipped around, startled. Declan stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wore a loose-knit, sage-green jumper and faded, ripped jeans, a far cry from the broken shell of a man August had rescued from the depths of hell. Declan had gained weight, strength, and a quiet confidence, but August still saw the faint scars on his body—and the ones that lingered in his eyes.

“Uh, nothing-” August stammered, quickly ducking in front of the mixing bowl to hide the incriminating evidence. Declan raised his eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face urging him to confess. August sighed, resigning and stepping aside, “I was, um…about to make cookies… for you.”

The warmth in Declan’s gaze was unmistakable as he took a delicate step closer, his voice low and touched with appreciation. “For me?” he asked, as if the idea of someone doing something so kind for him was still too much to believe. His eyes flickered to the salt shaker.

“How much salt were you putting in there?”

August blinked down to the white granules, pointing to them with an accusatory finger, “No, that’s sugar-”

Declan chuckled, “Let me help you.” He limped closer, gently guiding August away from the counter with a hand on his shoulder. Reaching for the salt shaker, he swapped it with the sugar container, his smile never fading. “Sugar is in these pots, by the sink,” he explained, “Next to the coffee and tea bags.”

“I have never seen those in my life.”

Declan shook his head, exhaling a soft laugh through his nostrils. August watched as Declan moved along the counter, his movements slow and careful, as if still measuring every step. He felt a rush of admiration - despite everything, Declan had come so far. It was hard to believe this was the same man who lay zombified and catatonic in that bed upstairs.

“Alright, what’s next?” Declan asked, taking charge. August fumbled with the recipe card, scanning the first step.

“‘Beat butter and sugar in a large bowl until creamy’...” August’s voice faltered, his face scrunching in confusion. “'Beat butter'? Like... do I just punch it? What did the butter ever do to deserve that?”

“No,” Declan giggled, “It’s just a term. ‘Beating’ means like, mix it really well. Getting it smooth, so it holds the sugar better when you mix it together.”

“But how do you ‘beat’ butter without... actual beating?” August questioned, still dubious.

“Use a spoon. You have to put a little muscle into it, though” Declan explained, holding the butter up to August. 

August blinked at the stick of butter in Declan’s hand, his eyes narrowing. “That seems... unnecessarily complicated for something so simple.”

“Bakings like that sometimes,” Declan replied, smiling. “It’s about making things come together. It’s a little messy, but it works. You just have to trust the process.”

August grabbed the bowl, hesitating for a moment before he started. The eggs and sugar splashed together, but soon enough the mixture began to smooth out. He watched with a sense of triumph as it lightened, the sugar blending in. He stopped, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, and stared at the fluffy mixture.

“That’s looking good! See, you can do it!” Declan cheered. He peeked at the recipe card on the counter, “Now it wants us to add the egg and vanilla.”

August’s face drained of colour, his stomach sinking. The egg. He stared at it, feeling as though it had suddenly become his arch nemesis. There was no way in hell he was going to crack it without getting bits of shell everywhere. These cookies were definitely going to have some extra crunch.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the egg, holding it over the bowl. He tapped it against the edge, and the shell cracked wide open—too wide. A shower of small fragments dropped into the mixture. He froze, eyes widening. Declan stepped in, effortlessly scooping out the pieces of shell with practiced ease. “It’s okay,” he reassured. “It happens.”

August let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. “Thank you, Declan. I dread to think how these would have turned out without your help.”

“Hey, it’s you doing all the work! I’m just…keeping you on track,” he winked, fishing out a particularly large chunk of shell from the mixture. 

Declan always had a way of making the impossible possible, of taking something hopeless and finding the light through. It reminded August of when he first found Declan - on the brink of death, locked in his own mind, and August had fought to bring him back against all odds. And now here Declan was, steady and strong, helping him with something as simple as baking. 

August’s thoughts were interrupted when Declan glanced at the recipe card again. “Next up… we need to add the flour and baking powder.”

August nodded, grabbing the containers. He didn’t think twice, just tipping them both into the bowl in one swift motion. The moment the powder hit the batter, it was like a bomb went off. A massive cloud of flour erupted from the bowl, enveloping them both in a thick, white haze. August froze, blinking as the smoke swirled around him, coating his hair and clothes in a fine dust. The kitchen was suddenly a disaster zone, and Declan couldn’t help but let out a stunned gasp. 

“Well, that’s one way to do it. Declan chuckled, brushing flour from his eyes. 

"Well, that was a bit of a disaster."

Declan shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “At least it’ll be a delicious disaster.”

August chuckled, shaking his head. “If these cookies turn out half as good as this mess, we’ll be lucky.”

“One things for sure,” Declan chirped, “they’ll definitely be unforgettable.”

I luffs them, your honour 👩‍⚖️ I love cheeky, lighthearted Declan SO MUCH. He deserves all the happiness after all the horror he's endured <3333

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

[rhaellatully]

B-Side (Fanfiction)

AO3

FF.net

AN/ Congratulation to Arcane for making me write again after 4 years... I really need to get back to my WIPs...

Anyway, a very very big thank you to @beforetimes who beta this fic and made it some much better (and also went through the trouble of correcting all of my mistakes)

She looks at her father in the eye one more time before she pulls the pin. She doesn’t hear the boom, instead she sees this orb, and she is being torn apart by it. The world spins around her. It pulls her in all directions. She can’t tell where is up or down. She wants to throw up. It spins, it shakes, she can’t see, until the kaleidoscope appears. She doesn’t hear the boom, but she hears her screams.

Something escapes her hands, followed by a loud noise. Beer spills on a wooden floor. 

Jinx stares at her hands: something is... different. Are her nails shorter and-

“Everything alright, Powder?”  A familiar voice calls.

She turns around and looks up. And there he is, standing behind the bar, like he always did.

“Vander?”

He looks normal, but older. Grey hairs and wrinkles are accentuated by the frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” He says, a worried look on his face.

Jinx saw and heard him so many times before, but never like this. He looks like he should have been. Like the doctor never found him. Like she never gave him to the doctor. Like she never killed him the first time, or the second. Like she never jinxed him.

What is going on? They should be dead. They were meant to die together. To free Vi from all the pain and suffering they bring. All the horrors she created were meant to be blown away. Reduced to ashes. Nothing but a bad memory. One that the Piltie would kiss away and make better.

So, why?

Vander is stepping away from the bar now. He’s coming toward her. She doesn’t know how to move anymore. She can’t run, but she can’t stay. 

The bell rings. Her head snaps toward it and the air is gone from her lungs. Mylo and Claggor walk toward her. They’re different too. They’re bigger. Claggor’s cheeks are smaller. Mylo’s hair is shorter than it should, and he has this moustache. They never looked like this, she never thought of them looking like this before. They’re different but they’re good different.

Vander’s hand is on her shoulder. It’s warm, so warm. His other hand came to wipe away a tear she hadn’t realised was on her face.

“What’s going on Powder?”

Uh, she made it to heaven, somehow.

She’s good different too, she finds out, looking at herself in the mirror after Vander sends her downstairs. He thinks she pulled one-too-many all nighters lately. Yet, the bags under her eyes are the smallest she’s ever seen. Her cheeks also look fuller. Her hair is shorter- no longer, she had cut it, then Ekko fixed it shorter. And there’s this pink strand, the same colour as Vi’s hair.

And her eyes too, no more shimmer, probably no more use for it here.

She doesn’t get to look at them for long, because a hand comes to cover them. In less than a second she spins her attacker around and he’s pinned against the wall. 

“Ouch! Sorry! Sorry!”

With trembling hands, she lets go of him.

“Ekko?” She asks, and a part of her wants to be wrong, wants him to have survived the battle. He had his time loop thingy, he shouldn’t have been able to lose. He should be alive, he has no business being here. He’s the boy savior. Unless he sacrificed himself to save someone, or everyone. He shouldn’t have died. People like her should die, not people like him. He wanted to make a good world, a better world. That’s what he should be doing, not being dead here with her.

But then, he gives her that kind smile as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Okay, I won’t try to surprise you anymore.” He says, and she doesn’t care anymore.

He’s dragging her through the streets as she tries to keep up while having no idea where they’re going. He won’t let go of her hand. He grabbed it at the Last Drop, and insisted that they had to go. She wanted to ask where, but lost the ability the second they stepped out. 

Zaun is good different, too. There’s so much light. The air smells better and it feels easier to breathe, almost like Topside. The buildings are not on the verge of collapsing. The people are walking around carefree, the children are running down the street laughing.

Heaven is a nice place.

They reach the bridge, there are no barricades, just shops, people and enforcers who look... friendly. She remembers the bridge of her life. She passes the spot where her parents died. A man is selling food there. 

Ekko guides her to where they could have died together and she loses her footing. He catches her. 

“Sorry,” he says, an apologetic smile on his face, “Maybe we should walk.”

Jinx wants to say no, because if they are not running, why would he hold her hand? But he doesn’t let go. 

They reach their destination. It’s the academy. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing here. Or why so many people are trying to get there. Ekko keeps walking but she doesn’t move. He stops rather than letting go of her hand.

He smiles at her again.

“I’m sure we made it. They’ve increased the number of seats available again. And even if they hadn’t, we’re not the ones who need it.”

She thinks she understands what he’s saying, but it doesn’t make sense. It can’t make sense.

He starts walking, and she follows all the way to the walls where the results of the entrance exam are plastered. 

“Let’s start at the bottom.” he says, and she lets him. Because if their names are on the boards somewhere, it has to be at the bottom, right? They’re brilliant, she knows it, but the Pilties and their academies care more for prim and proper language than groundbreaking ideas. Even with all the brains in the world, all it takes is one Piltie with a nice bag of money and their sit goes to someone else. Why bother trying? Just to be stuck in a classroom full of Pilties and fancy professors trying to teach them stuff they could learn on their own from books. They’d have easy access to the library, though.

They make their way up and their names don’t seem to be there. He seems so focused, as if he was looking for the solution to a complex equation. She sees him swallow hard as his hand rises higher. Will she see his face break again?

Then he laughs his hand is at the top of the board, and so are their names. Ekko first place, her second. 

“How?” It escapes her lips before she can think ‘it’s heaven, of course they’re there’. But Jinx never wanted to join the academy. So, why?

“Did you fill out the exam in crayon?” He asks with that damn smile on his face. 

Right, it’s his heaven too.

“We’re in the fucking academy,” she says, and she hears him laugh again.

This time he grabs her and swipes her off her feet. He spins her around once, before putting her down, still holding her. His forehead pressed against hers. She’s crying again. She doesn’t know why. 

Ekko’s hands leave her sides to grab her face again. His thumbs wipe away the tears. And he looks at her, that same way he looked at her toward the end. There’s something she doesn’t understand in his eyes. Until he looks down at her lips. Is he going to… kiss her?

He leans toward her, she leans away. He freezes and looks at her, confused. She leans toward him. Their lips meet. It’s nicer than she imagined.

Heaven really is a nice place.

They return to the Last Drop. The second they walk through the door, silence falls, and all the heads turn toward them. Everyone is here; Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Benzo. She sees more familiar faces around, and even Babette is looking at her with hope in her eyes.

“We made it!” shouts Ekko, and cheers erupt all around them.

Mylo almost runs at her arms stretched out, she expects him to strangle her, but he hugs her. She doesn’t have time to react before Claggor joins him. Jinx feels warm, like the sun itself is holding her.

“Vi would be so proud of you,” Mylo whispers and she feels cold all over.

She thinks she’s going to cry again, but she hears someone say, “Let her breathe.”

She almost fights her way out of their arms to turn around.

He’s here.

And he’s good different, too.

His eye. He doesn’t need her to give him his medicine. His scar doesn’t look as bad as it used to. He stands straighter. His skin is pinker. 

His smile is brighter than she’s ever seen it.

“Well done, Powder,” he says as he hugs her, “I knew you’d do great.”

“Silco,” she doesn’t cry, this time she laughs.

Heaven really is a place worth dying for.

The next day she’s nursing a violent hangover.

“I’ve never seen you indulge yourself so much before.” Vander tells her.

“Oh, she deserves it!” Silco joins in, “Before long, the two of them will be sitting on the Council.”

“Or not, if they don’t want to.”

“Of course!”

“As happy as I am to see the two of you like this, can you go do it elsewhere? My head is killing me.”

“Of course, Powder.”

It feels weird to hear Silco call her that, but she could get used to it.

She feels better in the afternoon when Ekko comes to find her. He says they should go tell Vi. She doesn’t understand what he means. But ever since she died, she’s learned to go with the flow.

They go to her lair. Even that place is brighter and warmer. There are different trinkets everywhere, and railings. It still feels like her, but a different her. A happier her, maybe.

They go to the tent. There’s a shrine to Vi. Why is there a shrine to Vi? She survived, she made sure she survived, so she can’t be here, but why is there a shrine?

“She looks so young,” Jinx comments when she looks at the painting of Vi.

Ekko takes her hand as they sit down. “If she could see you…” He doesn’t finish, Jinx is grateful for it.

She will see me, she wants to say, when she dies too she’ll see all of this and she’ll love it.

Jinx is making her way to Benzo’s shop with food to share with Ekko when she sees her. Her hair is brown again. She’s running around with a group of children, laughing so hard as she does. She knew they would meet here eventually. She skips toward her. Her heart swells with every step that brings her closer to her. 

She sees her trip on the ground. Jinx gaps and starts running, but another woman gets to her first. She picks her up and starts whispering sweet things at her.

They have the same eyes.

It makes sense. It’s heaven, so Isha has her first family back too. She’s safe and happy. And she doesn’t need Jinx. 

That’s a good thing. 

So why does her heart ache?

“Are you okay?” Ekko asks her.

“Yeah.” She doesn’t want to talk about Isha with him, especially when she has no reason to feel bad. Isha is with her other family, and so is she. It would have been better if they had never met anyway.

“Pow-pow,” Ekko calls to make her look at him, “ever since the entrance exam result, you’ve been… different. Are you still unsure?”

“No.” Well, maybe I never wanted to go to this academy anyway.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just think with it, we can accomplish great things. There’s still so much to do for the undercity. And I know that together, we can do anything.”

Jinx has heard that last one before, when they were getting ready to go kick some Noxian butts. She smiles.

I am glad we died together this time.

After a while in the tunnels she recognises the way they’re going. He’s taking her to the Firelight’s hideout. She remembers when he first took her there, after she had let the grenade fall beneath them and let him guide her out of her lair. He had shown her his mural with her face at the centre. To remember and honour everyone they’ve lost. 

“To keep them in our hearts and move forward,” he had said, handing her paint, “What did she look like?”

And Isha had joined the mural as close to her as possible.

Jinx wonders what this place is now. Maybe there are people living there. Ekko had built this place to be a refuge. People don’t need  a refuge like back when she was alive here, though. It could be a playground, there were so many children there. Maybe here it belongs to them, and they play all day, just like she and Ekko did in the junkyard.

There’s water on the floor, it’s not deep, but it splashes when they walk. Once they’re inside she looks up, and freezes.

This is Vi. Her Vi. She’s not supposed to- Why is she-? How is she-?

Her breath quickens and they all start screaming at her. 

What have you done? You’ve managed to kill one of us after all! Why are you surprised? You’re a jinx. You cannot change your own nature. Jinx! You will never belong in heaven! Why would any God let you in? So that you can burn the place to the ground! You’re going to jinx us all again! This is a special hell crafted just for you! You’re a jinx! You’re not meant to be happy. Murderers don’t get happiness. You jinx everything!

“Shut up!” she shouts, throat raw.

She runs away. When she hears Ekko shouting after her, she runs faster.

She ran but had no idea where to run. She couldn’t go to her lair, it was different, it wasn’t hers. Nothing here was hers. Not the Last Drop and not the wrong Vander, or wrong Silco, Mylo, Claggor, or wrong everyone.

She ran to the cannery, this was a place for her. The place of Jinx’s birth. That’s where she belongs. But as she got closer she noticed the people going toward it. They looked sick and broken. This should have been a good sign but when she got there she saw in large bold letters the word ‘hospital’.

They have hospitals, the fucking cannery became a hospital.

Jinx ran away from that too. She went into the fissures, where the Grey still filled the air. They hadn’t fully eliminated it, they couldn’t fix everything. 

She sat down where she could see it fester below without coughing her lungs out. That’s where he found her, because of course he found her.

“You’re not my Powder, are you?” She hears him call behind her.

She chuckles humorlessly, “Nope, I’m Jinx.” Now, go away.

“Are you from the same place as the other Ekko?”

She sighs, “I guess.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Was he ever going to leave? “I didn’t realise- he didn’t give me details, okay!”

She needs him to shut up. To stop talking to her as if she was Powder. To not be so nice to her. To not be here. She can feel him standing away from her. She can picture his face, with his eyes full of hope, just like that day on the edge of the turbine. She doesn’t want to see this fake Ekko and his perfect life with his perfect Powder. 

“Are you okay?”

Why does he have to be like this? Why is it that in every universe he’s like that? Always trying to save her.

“I’m not Powder, okay? Now leave.”

“Look, I’m just trying to help you.”

She turns to face him. He looks worried: of course he does. He doesn't understand that she's nothing like her.

“Just because I have her face doesn’t mean you have to care.”

“Actually you have more than her face, you are inhabiting her body.” He says with a cheeky look on his face, as if they were friends.

“Well, I don’t know how to leave it, so…”

“Powder, Heimerdiger and the other Ekko created a machine that could send him back. With their notes I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Good for you.”

Powder and Heimerdiger aren’t here anymore. If he wants to build his machine, let him have a crack at it, but leave her out of it. Give the machine to her, she’ll probably find a way to blow the entire city up with it.

“Look, Powder-”

“Jinx! My name is Jinx.” She almost screams it at him. He flinches, and that’s how it should go.

“He did say you were different.” He says, not backing down, always the brave one.

“Oh, really?”

“He also said your ideas changed the world.”

She burst out laughing. That’s one way to put it!

“Do you know what I’ve done? Did he tell her?”

He looks at her with the same terror her Ekko used to. She laughs, almost manically. The way only a Jinx would laugh. The laugh that does nothing but scare people.

“I’ve killed them,” Jinx whispers at him and laughs some more, even when nothing feels funny at all. “Vander, Mylo and Claggor, all in one go. Silco too,” she pauses, “But that was later.” She gives him her smile and it makes him flinch. “And I killed so many of your friends in between.”

He stares at her and says nothing. 

“And I killed them on purpose! Unlike everyone else. Everyone who gets close to me dies… one way or another. Except you. The boy saviour always makes it.”

Jinx sits back on her spot. He should leave now: Jinx can tell that he’s scared. He should leave before she jinxes him, too. She can hear his footsteps, but they’re not getting softer. They’re getting louder.

He sits next to her. “I gave her the tip.”

Jinx looks up at him. 

“I gave her the tip, and they all went while having no idea what was actually up there. If I hadn’t they would never have found the crystals. They would never have fallen to the ground. There would never have been an explosion. If it weren’t for me, Vi would still be alive.” He sighed, it’s a heavy sigh, filled with sorrow. “Everyone tells me it’s not my fault, but there’s still a part of me that,” He pauses to take a shaky breath, “That still feels like I killed her.”

There are no tears in his eyes, but she hears them in his voice.

“It’s not the same. You couldn’t have known there'd be an explosion, it was a good tip.”

“Whatever you did to kill them, did you know it would?”

Jinx doesn’t have the strength to answer, so she just cries. Because she didn’t know. She only wanted to help. 

In between sobs, she lets out, “What about everyone else?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask your Ekko.”

Going through the notes is more difficult than she thought. They don’t use big fancy words like Talys and his partner did, but the doodles, the discussion in the margins, all the little things in the pages tell her how much fun they had. He had more fun with me.

Or maybe, he only had fun with her when he thought of the other her.

Other Ekko works dutifully on the project. Seemingly unbothered by her, which still baffles her. He probably doesn’t understand what she is, and what she’s done. 

It’s better not to explain it to him. Just get back and then… 

The first night, when their stomachs start to growl, he proposes to go “home” to eat. She can’t. She refuses, and when he ducks out anyway, he comes back with food. Says he told the others they were working on a project, that they let him come back here, but are worried.

Powder doesn’t go around disappearing. Jinx hopes they finish this fast.

Working with this Ekko is not the same as working with her Ekko, but it’s close enough. There’s something about the way they bounce ideas off of each other. Like the gears inside her head turn faster. It brings her back to when they were children, when they were searching for books in trash, trying to understand mechanisms by taking gadgets apart and rebuilding them. There’s something comforting about it. But it lacks the excitement of working with her Ekko. 

She always ends up thinking of the days they spent preparing to fight the Noxians. Making her lair airborne had been a crazy idea that somehow worked. Jinx couldn’t have done it with this world’s Ekko; he wouldn’t have taken the risk. 

That’s the thing about her Ekko–he’s a daredevil. He’ll jump off an airship to reach his goal. He’d face an explosion again and again to save her. Was he always like that? Or is it just having her around that makes him as crazy as she is? 

She believed that when she pulled the pin, but now, with this Ekko, the one who has never met a Jinx before, she sees cracks. He will redraw the same schematics six times, perfectly identical, always. He will violently rip off pages of his notebook and throw it away when he realizes he‘s made a mistake. He forgets to eat. Apparently it happens when he’s focused and Powder is the one to remind him, usually. He starts breathing really fast and clutching his head one day, because he has just realized he made a mistake yesterday. 

Maybe that’s not something she screwed up, then. Maybe her Ekko was always a bit insane, too.

“It’s the power source,” she says one day, “We’re screwed.”

“What do you mean?”

“What they used were crystal shards, not a real Hex-crystal. That’s why Heimerdiger had to step out to make adjustments during the process.”

“To redirect the energy!” He exclaims before rushing toward Vi’s shrine.

“We don’t have an actual crystal, we can’t-”

Before she can finish, Ekko shows her a bag full of crystals.

“We had sworn to never use them,” he explains, “but given the circumstances, I think she’ll understand.”

She didn’t want to go back to the Last Drop. What would she do there? Talk to the other Vander, Silco, Claggor and Mylo, and pretend that she was their Powder? As if she had any idea how to be like her. She’d probably manage to kill them, too, given enough time. But then the other Ekko had told her, “why don’t you let yourself enjoy some of your time here? your me definitely did.”

They had been humour in his tone and she had no idea what he meant, but her curiosity had pushed her to take his advice. If spending time with those people had led Ekko to want to see her again, then she’d like to know what he had seen.

So now Jinx sits at a diner table with Claggor at her right, Mylo at her left and Silco and Vander across from her.  

“So what’s that project you guys are working on?” Claggor asks with excitement in his voice.

“Secret,” she answers before stuffing her mouth.

The food was rich in taste and homely, Vander must have cooked it, it tastes like something from a memory.

“Since when do you keep secrets?”

A cold chill washed over her. Coming here was a bad idea. They were going to figure out there was something wrong with her. They were going to get mad. They would be scared and confused, all shouting at her. And that’s when it’ll happen. That’s when they all die.

“I think she’s not making anything,” exclaims Mylo, snapping her attention to him “She’s just getting more alone time with her boyfriend!”

She stares at him and feels her cheeks warming. Laughter erupts around her.

“Really?” This time it’s Silco that calls her attention. “You’re about to spend the next couple of years locked with him at the academy, and yet you’d rather spend your time with him rather than with us?”

Mylo and Claggor laugh even harder and she can barely hear herself say, “I’m sorry.”

“Leave her be,” Vander comes to her rescue, “She spent more than enough time taking care of us, let her have some fun.”

She doesn’t know how to describe the look he gives her. It’s the kind of look he would give Vi. She thinks it means, ‘I’m proud of you,’ or something. Definitely not the kind of look he should be giving her.

“Seriously,” says Claggor, “it’s going to be weird not having you around all the time.”

She feels terrified. It must be visible because Claggor keeps sending worried glances over at Mylo.

“We’re grown men. It’s about time we stop holding you back and learn to take care of ourselves.”

Jinx manages to divert attention from herself for the rest of the evening. 

It’s a strange thing. One moment she’s laughing, smiling and content, the next she remembers that this is the life she could have lived, had she not fucked everything up. It’s like being built up and broken over and over again.

By the time Vander asks someone to clean the dishes she volunteers just to be alone. And yet she wants to go back to them: it hurts but it’s also so wonderful to have them alive. It almost feels worth the pain.

She doesn’t linger on this for long because Vander joins her. She’s scared of what he’s going to say but he just quietly helps her with the dishes. She’s not very good at it, mostly because she doesn’t always clean. Hell, most of the time she doesn’t even use dishes. Vander just chuckles and helps her.

“You know you don’t have to feel guilty.”

She drops a plate. It doesn’t shatter, just falls into the water with a quiet splash. 

“Joining the academy is a good thing, and if it means you have less time for your family it’s fine. We can manage on our own and we’re not going anywhere. It’s about time you use all your smarts to make something out of your life.”

Her eyes are watery, Jinx knows those words are not for her but she can’t help but reply, “What if nothing I make is good? What if I just make everything worse?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” He tells her with a smile. She feels the tears rolling down her cheeks and he quickly adds, “And if you struggle you can always turn to Ekko or your brother, or even Silco and me. I mean, we’re not geniuses but we can give good advice when it’s needed.”

She wraps her arms around him. The tears are still falling but they don’t feel like sad tears anymore.

“You’re not alone, Powder.” He says before holding her tight.

As she makes her way to her bedroom she spots Silco writing in a journal.

“Still working?” She asks.

“Yes, I’m afraid my work is never done,” he sighs heavily, “I’m going to have to leave again in a few days.”

“I’m glad you were here.”

He smiles at her, “Me too. And I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

He gets up and walks toward her.

“Now, now, you’re a big girl, I’m sure you don’t need me anymore.”

She pulls him into a hug and hides her face into his shoulder. “I’m always going to need you.”

He hugs her back and says, “Please, I’ve always needed you more than you needed me. You’ll be fine.”

“Here.”

Ekko hands her a pendant, on it there’s a flower. It’s pretty, and it spins. Looking closer she can see their faces carve in the petals.

Before she can ask him anything he says, “He gave it to her, but she says she didn’t think it was meant for her.”

She stares at it again. It’s meticulous work, detailed but not excessive, his style. A small smile forces its way onto her face. Jinx puts it around her neck.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t blow up in our faces.”

First the lightning comes, like at the cannery, they all start to scream and she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to stand it. But it’s all cut off when the sphere appears around her. She breathes in and this time, she’s ready.

The last thing she sees is the other Ekko holding the other her in his arms. He smiles up at her.

He keeps himself busy. It’s the best way to avoid falling apart. Scar tells him that they have no one to fight, and they are not alone in helping anymore, that he can take a break. Ekko begs him for a job, any job, instead.     

He needs something to do, anything. The look he, and all of the other Fireslights, gives him feels like a stab in the heart, because it’s just another reminder of what could have been.

He repairs the roof. He teaches the children how to fly a hoverboard. He helps cook dinner for everyone. He talks with Sevika about the meeting and what they could and should be doing. He tries to come up with a new and more efficient energy storage device.

It helps, but never for long. Because, they sat on that roof the first night she spent at the hideout. Because, one of the children has dyed his hair blue and swears he's going to be just like her one day. Because, they cooked together the night before the battle. Because, Sevika has to say that she was easier to deal with than the Council. Because, working on anything reminds him of the time they spent transforming her lair.

The nights are the worst, when nothing can distract him from his grief. It’s the third time. It should be easier by now. But it’s worse. It’s so much worse. This time he’s not just grieving what was, he’s grieving what could have been.

After having seen the other universe. After having convinced her to drop the bomb and step off the ledge. After rallying the under-city together. After fighting side by side. He had hope that they would get a future together.

He knew things would never be as they were. That they would never be like the other Ekko and Powder. But he thought that they could build something new. 

Maybe Jinx would have stayed with the Firelight, she had liked it there during the few days before the battle. It might have taken her some time. They could have worked on projects together. That had come to them just as naturally as it had before. Eventually, she would have started to play with the children. That would have won over the few Firelights that were still wary of her. They would have visited Vi together, if only to remind her that she was a Zaunite and always would be. She would have spent a lot of time with Sevika, much to the Council’s annoyance. 

She would have cooked weird things and forced him to try them. He would have fought her, but ultimately conceded, always. He would have taken her flying on his hoverboard, far above Zaun, even higher than the Hex-gate. She would have modified the overboard, in a seemingly superfluous and random way, but a surprisingly useful one. They would have fought about that, and about her idea of games appropriate for children, and about the priorities for the Firelights, and what music to play during the day, and the right flavour of pancakes. They would have laughed, too. About her hair, his clothes, Sevika, Scar, and about the Pilties. They would have spent nights awake making fun of Pilties. 

And on one of those nights he would have looked into her eyes. She would have looked back confused. He would have leaned toward her. She would have frozen at first, but then she would have closed her eyes and leaned back.

But none of that would ever happen. Instead, he would remember all the time they played as children. All the time they fought as teens. Eventually the childhood memories would fade and the only moments left would be those last few days. 

Three days, that’s all he had been given. Three days they spent arguing with the rest of undercity, and trying desperately to build everything on time. They barely had any moments alone together. They never even got to paint together. They transformed her hideout while shouting orders at everyone else. They only got to laugh when painting each other. He only got to hold her twice. Once right after she stepped away from the ledge. And again right before the battle. He only held her hand once, when he brought her to their sanctuary.

He got to kiss her once and it wasn’t even her.

Sometimes he thinks about what it would have been like to kiss his Jinx. It would have been more wild, he thinks, probably with more teeth. It makes him chuckle. Then the hurt comes back, because he doesn’t know, and he never will.

He never told Vi. He can’t. He doesn’t want to burden her with the knowledge of the happiness they could have had. He doesn’t want her to know that their world would have been better if she had died. He hates himself for thinking it, but he knows that, for him at least, it’s true. And he fears it would break her in a way even Caitlyn can’t fix.

He builds her a shrine, like Powder had for Vi. He prays and talks to her, like they had over there. He tells her about his day. About what Vi is up to. He tells her about the changes in Zaun. He tells her he wishes she was here. And some nights, when the pain is too great he begs her to come back. To pull another miracle. You’ve done twice already, why not a third?

He has a lot to tell her today. For starters, mister I’ll-be-just-like-Jinx-one-day thought it would be a great idea to try and jump off his hoverboard mid-flight. He broke his leg. Ekko tried to lecture him. He got too angry, though, and almost yelled at the poor kid. Thankfully Scar took him away quickly. He hates that he lost control like this, especially in front of a child. He barely had time to apologise to the kid before he was informed that Sevika was looking for him. 

Ekko knew that was bad news before he even reached her: Sevika only ever wants to see him when things go to shit. Turns out the Council thinks the factories need to reach their pre-war quotas before the end of the month. How they’re supposed to do that when half of their population is still wounded and recovering, he has no idea. She wants the Firelights to help her make a show of force in front of the Council, to remind them that the undercity is a united front. 

And there’s another problem: A few days ago, the Jinxers put on a little homage to Jinx, to celebrate her sacrifice. Ekko didn’t go. He didn’t want to see what a group of people who never knew her would do. Apparently they just threw a bunch of paint explosives around town, landmarks associated with Jinx, including the building she blew up on Progress Day and the Council chambers. 

Needless to say, the Council are not happy about that. As far as they are concerned this is “in very bad taste” and all those involved “need to be disciplined.” The little dictator that put Noxus on their doorstep can go home scott-free, but a bunch of kids throw paints on their precious building and suddenly there’s a need for discipline. Some things never change. 

After an entire evening locked with Sevika, Babette and her other “advisors” to try to find a solution, he returns home, skips dinner and goes straight to his quarters. 

He wants to go to her, pretend she can hear him, imagine her thoughts, her voice. Give himself whatever comfort she can give him. And collapse on his bed feeling a little bit less shitty about everything.

He pushes the door open and there’s someone before his shrine. She has her back turned to him, all he can see is a cloth wrapped around her skinny frame and short blue air, when she turns around his heart stops.

He thinks he is dreaming. She can’t be standing in front of him. But she’s here. She looks real. Like he had last seen her. His eyes run across her, trying to find a trick, hoping to find a confirmation. That’s when he sees the necklace.

She notices and touches it, “He said she thought you made it for me.”

His breath shakes and he throws his arms around her, his tears run down the crook of her neck. He feels her arms coming around him, Jinx clings to him, just like he’s clinging to her.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. He is scared that if he lets go she’ll vanish.

Finally, with her voice shaking she asks, “Can I stay here, at least for while?”

Ekko sobs as he says, “Please don’t leave, not again.”

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, writing Jinx pov is difficult I hope I got it right. Writing the alternate universe is also fun, Silco and alt-Silco are two very different people...

[nezumeanie]

obey me c a s u a l t o u c h ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

no warnings | gn!mc | not proofread <_<

♢ in the hustle and bustle of the devildom on the weekends, you always find yourself pushing through crowds in the street markets to buy groceries for the week. after being bumped into for the umpteenth time, you decide to let your step fall behind lucifer’s, that way if you were to be separated you could still see his large head above the crowd and make your way back to him. sensing your presence move from beside him, lucifer stops walking turning to look at you. “make sure not to get lost” he puts a light hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of him as to not lose sight of you. occasionally, you’ll feel his hands on your shoulders moving you forward without letting you stray from him.

♢ you and mammon sit shoulder to shoulder staring at the black screen of his ddd. there wasn’t any reason to be nervous, but mammon was anxiously awaiting to hear from his agent if he had booked a new gig—an small role in a new d-drama. the acclamation was one thing, the money another, mammon hadn’t stopped talking abt it since his audition. finally his screen lit up: an email notification. he opened it slowly and yelled “we did it!!! we did it! oh man, you’re my good luck charm we gonna be so rich!!!!” he threw his arms around you and jumped in a circle, mammon’s happiness is your happiness as well.

♢ in front of the computer screen, one hand on the mouse other on the keyboard, levi kept giving you directions on where to go and what to do even though he said he would let you play the game yourself. “wait, wait if you turn around and walk through tht wall there’s a secret cave full of ss grade items! no, no turn around argh” he puts his hand on your shoulder and points in the opposite direction in which you were moving “literally it’s a wall covered in vines. i found it on accident my seventeenth time playing through it hahahah that was the round i completed the fastest…” his story is much harder to follow when his voice is this close to you, but you never want to miss his words.

♢ many food ingredients in the devildom remind you of things you can find back home in the human realm, so you decide to try and recreate a meal you already know. while stirring the pot, you feel someone approach you from behind “hmm? what is it that you’re making?” it’s satan it’s his head titled to the side. he had placed his hand on the counter trapping your waist between himself and the stove, his other hand placed on his hip in curiosity. his fingers tapped on the marble, his eyebrows furrowed and unfurrowed. you dipped the spoon in and brought it to his lips to taste.

♢ there were so many formal events held at diavolo’s castle you began wondering if it really was so imperative that you and everyone had to attend every single one. racing down the hallway, you hear asmo’s voice “oii your tag is sticking out. sigh, come here, come here!” you stop in your tracks, your hands shooting to the back of your formal attire. you can hear asmo chuckling. “let me see〜” one hand gracefully touches your side, the other you feel down your collar tucking your tag back into place. “this is perfect timing,” he says from behind you, “i need someone to help me zip my dress♪”

♢ without you asking, beel takes bottle from you hand and twists the lid off for you. “humans are so fragile” he mentions and hands it back to you, not tht you needed his help to open a bottle of raspberry juice. with that thought in mind, you managed to spilled some down your chin. are you a child? beel chuckles to himself, putting one hand on the top of your head, the other takes out a handkerchief and wipes it off for you. punctuating his handiwork with a head rub he adds “humans are so clumsy, too.” you drink your juice more carefully this time.

♢ a new cafe was opening downtown! the first hundred patrons would receive a mystery prize and a free parfait topping! while scrolling devilgram you saw the post and called belphie over to look. he places his head on your shoulder to look over your shoulder at your phone. “ah, im pretty sure that’s the same place i was talking to you about last week? when i said we should eat a strawberry parfait together” he lazily drapes his arm around your shoulder. though, you’re sure he did not ask you to eat desert together, maybe he had dreamt about it.

[lordgrimwing]

Findekáno's Tattoo

This was a part of Alqualondë that Findekáno had never been to before. 

Really, he could say that about most of the Telerin city. He and his siblings and cousins were mostly interested in enjoying the beach when they ventured down from Tirion. They’d been to Olwë’s house (not really much of a palace, certainly nothing like Grandfather Finwë’s home) a couple times, too, what with Uncle Arafinwë marrying his daughter. But as a whole, Findekáno  felt half lost as he searched for the shop he was looking for.

He’d gotten the name of the shop from an elf in Tirion who specialized in adorning the body. A common enough craft among the Noldor, though his parents would have objected to their son utilizing her services, given her reputation. He agreed with them on that, though more because she was bound to know about the family drama than because she was too liberal with her needle and ink.

No, no. For this he had to find an outsider, and Mórowen of the Teleri came well recommended.

Or, at least, recommended.

Findekáno stopped to squint at a driftwood sign polished nearly blank by the combination of saltwater spray and the fine sand carried by the wind and foot traffic all over the city. This looked like the shop he’d been directed to. The only way to know was to go inside and face whatever awaited.

Pushing aside the strings of seashells decorating the entrance, he stepped into the small shop.

“In a minute.” The sharp words came from a black-hair elf, uncommon for a Teleri, hunched over a low table.

“Mhph,” the elf laying face-down on the table said as Mórowen tapped her tattooing comb into their back.

Embarrassed (and more than a little flustered at seeing someone half naked), Findekáno ducked back into the street to wait.

Well over a minute passed before the Teleri, still indecently underdressed, walked out, accompanied by a taller elf he hadn’t noticed. The freshly tattooed patron offered the waiting prince a casual greeting gesture that broke off with a wince. The bigger elf laughed and then they were gone.

He hesitated at the lintel. Did he really want to do this?

“Come, come,” Mórowen said. “Don’t block the light.”

“Hello.” He tried to calm his nerves as he stepped into the tiny shop, more of a shack compared to what he was used to. “I heard you craft adornments for the skin?”

She snorted. “If your clothes or face were not enough, I’d know you're a Noldo now. Yes, I do.”

He stumbled over his tongue. The last time he’d been this embarrassed had to be when he slipped at the feast and landed in Maitimo’s lap, spilling wine all over both of them. Their fathers saw the whole thing and Maitimo quickly excused himself and fled.

“Sit down.” Mórowen pointed at a three-legged stool next to the table. “What do you want?”

It wobbled dangerously under him. “I-” there was no going back now, he’d come all this way and he’d see this through. “I’d like a tattoo.”

“And every fisher wants Ossë to not break their nets. Do you know what you want?”

He had the sudden urge to hide his hands behind him. The way her eyes flicked up and down made him feel like she was picking which spot of exposed skin to set her au to first. His answer came out in a rush.  “A name.”

She sat back on her work stool, tapping one finger on the table. “A name?” Her eyebrows rose. 

He wasn’t sure if it was mocking. He thought it could be. “Yes. Maitimo.” 

From a pocket, he pulled a scrap of linen paper. He’d drawn the name out to look exactly the way he wanted, with extra flourishes. He stopped short of including hearts, but he’d wanted to.

Mórowen took the paper and inspected his work. “Maitimo,” she repeated and then read out each tangwa and ómatehta. “You want it to look like this?”

“Yes,” he insisted, defensive. 

She shrugged. “Where?

“My side.” He’d thought for a long time about that. The tattoo had to go somewhere he would never casually reveal. “Just above my hip.”

“You’ll have to pull your shirt up,” she said it like she expected him to run out in a panic at the notion.

“Okay. Can we start now?”

She nodded. “I have time.”

In the course of a minute, Findekáno found himself lying on his side on the surprisingly comfortable table, his shirt bunched up under his arm and his pants pushed low on his hips. Mórowen’s hands were surprisingly warm against his skin but he couldn’t help flinching nervously with every foreign touch.

“Maitimo, Maitimo,” she murmured as she put ink to her comb. She paused with the comb’s teeth almost touching him.  

He bit his lip and closed his eyes, bracing.

“Maitimo,” she repeated. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

Findekáno froze. “Half-cousin.”

“Aren’t your fathers feuding?”

Why was this Teleri, of all Teleri, reasonably informed on Noldorin politics? He thought they all had little interest in what happened beyond the shore. What would he have to do to convince her to forget about the whole thing and never speak a word of this to anyone? Father would be livid if he found out, and Maitimo might get in trouble too if Fëanáro heard about it.

“Eh, but perhaps I am mistaken,” she said and tapped the needles into his skin.

By the time Mórowen put her comb away and wiped his skin with a damp rag, Findekáno was almost regretting the whole thing. He wasn’t sure he could make the hike back up the mountain without his side tearing open. Even breathing made it hurt.

“Wash with cool water three times between minglings and pat it dry with rabbit fur.”

“Why?” He couldn’t imagine touching anywhere near the tattoo for at least a year.

She laughed. “You’ll know why if you don’t listen.”

“Now,” she hummed, helping him adjust his clothes so they fit right, “when your Maitimo is ready, send him to me for the other half.”

And with that, she bundled him out of her shop.

He stood in the street, sand accumulating inside his sandals again. He was not looking forward to the walk home. Maybe he could find someone in the market who would be driving a wagon back to Tirion and he could ride with them.

Already yearning for sleep, Findekáno set off toward the sounds of people arguing over prices and the good-natured conversations that seemed to be the hallmark of markets everywhere. He couldn’t resist tracing a finger over the name permanently inked into his skin as he went.

[acridcandy]

* ❥ ⎯⎯ hi there, my name is selene ( she / her, 21+ ) and today i'm bringing you your queen s, na aera! she's 25, a business administration student at snu and fashion and lifestyle influencer, part of the s 'n u subplot trinity, and is currently headed on the path to self-destruction now that gossip girl has put a target on her back. fun! i have her dossier ready which has a profile and background on her, but i'll put the tl;dr version that was on her application down below, along with some plots that i can think of! please like this post to plot and i'll head your way, or you can add me on disc @ paraselene woman#8196 which is currently preferred more than tumblr ims. thank you for your time and i'm excited to play out some mess with you all! ♡

⏤ sparknotes bio ;

saw na aera in seoul. they were playing tennis. i think they’re an student and influencer now? a lot of people say they’re kinda deceptive but they seemed super charming to me, tbh. they really look like cho miyeon and remind me of park gulmi though wtf. thought you might want to know because i remember your post about them that said she blackmailed a professor who had an affair with a student. still can’t believe that happened 1 month ago.

oh, how the mighty fall. while aera's life hasn't always been cozy, especially with an egoistic mother, she always had her father to depend on and alleviate her pain. born with beautiful looks and pleasant singing tone to boot, she was scouted on the streets of seoul as a young tween and trained under the top entertainment industry in hopes of becoming an idol. while not making the opportunity of debuting in their next girl group, she left the company after 4 years only with a growing number of followers on her social media due to the rumors, and popularity that spilled from online into real life. this is where she cultivates her sweet persona, one that drastically differs from her actual personality that she keeps under tight wraps. after taking a couple of years off from university once her mother passes away after aera turns 21, it's only a few years later that she finds herself becoming one of seoul national's most well known current students, and well beloved. it feels like she doesn't get enough time to savor her status before life falls to collapse. she finds out that one of her friends is actually her step-sister by way of her father, and then gossip girl marking her return by spotlighting herself and her friends, which internally shakes her to her core ⏤ especially since she was able to evade her watchful eyes prior to her disappearance. after the post about the tumultuous relationship between her, her sister and prince charming goes viral she chooses to power through the fretfulness, pretending as if it were nothing even though others start to look at her at a different light. the cracks in her armor fully show once gossip girl ups the anti to expose her best kept secret about the professor, which brings her budding career to a screeching halt despite an attempt to still play the victim. aera has always adored attention, but with gossip girl wreaking havoc in her life she feels as if she's spiraling towards full destruction ⏤ she's lost her mother, feels like she lost her father, losing her sister and flame, and now an attempt on her career. however, aera would be damned to give up anything without a proper fight.

⏤ currently ;

the cracks in her formerly impenetrable armor are clearly showing now. usually hard to anger, she's prone to emotional outbursts every now and then and is a little less friendly to the general public, not knowing who she can trust anymore. but her motto is to ignore it as if it never happened, despite the fact that isn't working out so hot for her.

just got off her one month "reflection" period on social media that was mandated by her management company. her following has taken an obvious hit, and it probably would have done her better to reflect for a longer period, but

girl is escapist central right now. drugs, drinking, sex, any vice you name it ⏤ anything to get away from this hellhole for at least a couple of hours or so. queen of also making bad decisions for temporary satisfaction.

⏤ plots and ideas ;

looking for the monet de haan to her julian calloway ⏤ moreso in the sense that someone who is close to her and she doesn't have to pretend with, but also fuels her bad decision making. a tight but vicious team to anything that could potentially stand between their goals.

in the same vein: party friends who also enable her hedonist ways and she returns the favor, her favorite group rn

someone who she really valued that now looks at her differently since the gossip girl's posts and has acted accordingly. she'd do anything to get them back on her side

former victims of her vindictive nature: maybe people who have tried to steal her thrown or blackmail her, others who have also tried to get prince charming's attention, rivals, people who just came across her on a bad day, whatever!

a specific friends w benefits / fuck buddy type of relationship that she loves to hit up to release stress. maybe things are starting to get complicated between them?

even though her mother is out of the picture, her mother's family is not. maybe they're trying to find a suitor for her to continue the family bloodline and are trying to marry her away to someone? maybe she doesn't like this dude because of that?

someone that's worried about her and is trying to help her get her act together?

and ofc the usual of general friends, ex lovers, cousins, enemies, etc.

tbh i think i'm a lot better at brainstorming but thank you for reading this far if you did!

[thepie-eyedpiper]

The Blackest Rose

If you were to ask me when or where I first saw her, I wouldn't be able to tell you with any amount of certainty. I could only say that by the time she first allowed me to approach her, I had already seen her many times before.

You see, she is quite shy, much the same way I am. That would perhaps explain why I am usually alone when I see her, although I have seen her at times in shopping malls and other crowded places.

Her appearance makes it easy to pick her out of a crowd. She has skin that is creamy white, in contrast to her long black hair, which falls about her shoulders and frames a face of innocence and open beauty. Her large eyes are grey, matching the colour of the dresses she always wears.

The first time that I can remember getting more than just a passing glimpse of her was on a cool October night. A wind-driven rainstorm had blown through earlier in the evening, but the skies had cleared and a bright, crescent moon dominated a sky laden with stars.

Rainwater still meandered in the streets toward sewer grates that were virtually choked with dead leaves.

As I walked, my footfalls echoed back to me from the walls of nearby buildings, lost momentarily behind the sound of a passing car.

A harsh yellow light spilled down over me from humming streetlamps.

I looked across the street and saw her there, looking into a storefront window, her back to me, one of her delicate hands resting on the wet pane of glass.

She must have heard the slowing of my footsteps then, because she turned and saw me. A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps, I thought, she recognized me from our previous brief encounters, just as I had recognized her.

I faced her then, my hands self-consciously jammed into the pockets of my jeans.

She stepped away from the storefront into the direct light of a streetlamp, her flat-soled shoes making no sound, her every movement flawless, beautiful, and eerily fluid. A cool breeze ruffled the bottom of her long dress and lifted her raven-black hair from her shoulders, blowing a few wisps across her face. With a graceful sweep of her hand, she pushed the hair back behind her ear.

I managed to say "Hello," although I thought my voice wavered and sounded too weak to span the distance between us.

She responded with a tiny, tentative wave, and that same half-smile.

Summoning my courage, I took a step toward her, but as I did her smile vanished, replaced by a look of growing apprehension. I lifted my hand to her in a placating gesture, but she was no longer looking at me. She was watching the approach of a transport truck, its headlight beams sweeping across her startled face.

Then the truck was between us, its passing seeming to take forever.

In a wake of spray lifted from the wet roadway and a flash of red taillights, the truck was gone. So was the girl in the grey dress, although the duration of the truck's passing was in reality no more than the span of a few heartbeats.

She has a flair for these mysterious exits, often leaving me wondering if I'd seen her at all. The most poignant example of this occurred on a spring day, two years later.

I had just boarded a bus and was walking down the aisle. As I neared the back, I saw a girl who I had recently met at a party, through a mutual friend. I had only conversed with her for a short time before I was pulled away to take part in some long-winded, alcohol-induced discussion, which as it turned out never really required my participation. I had meant to resume my conversation with her, but never ended up getting the opportunity…until now.

She was sitting alone.

As I approached, she looked up and smiled, but my attention was now focused over her shoulder, where I had spotted another familiar face, that of a beautiful girl wearing grey, whose long black hair and milky white skin existed in a captivating visual symbiosis, each serving to accentuate the other.

I walked past the smiling girl as if I hadn't seen her, and sat down beside the one in grey, who was looking out the window and hadn't given any indication that she had noticed me yet. My heart was galloping in my chest like a runaway horse, and vainly I tried to rein it in. I chanced a look over, and found that she was still looking outside, her hands folded in the lap of her dress.

As the bus picked up speed, a breeze from an open window played through her hair, the smell of which was intoxicating and did little to help slow my heart rate. It was a blend of flowers and spice; redolent of honeysuckle and cloves, I thought; but that wasn't quite right. There was a hint of some other scent that I couldn't seem to put my finger on. It was very familiar and brought with it a strong sense of nostalgia. I suddenly began to feel light-headed, and my stomach lurched alarmingly as a wave of vertigo swept over me. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to relax. Soon the dizziness passed, and by degrees I felt my composure returning. Even the fragrance of her hair seemed to have receded somewhat.

I opened my eyes to discover that I sat alone. Only the essence of her hair remained, carried to me on a breeze from the open window.

After that I only saw her from a distance, and only for fleeting moments at a time. Once I spotted her across a movie theatre; once in a crowded bar; once at a subway station, as we stood on opposite platforms while a train hurtled past between us.

One February evening during the worst snowstorm of the year, I saw her walking down my street. She wore a hooded mantle over her dress, which she held tightly around her throat, her head bent to the driving snow.

She looked up and saw me standing at my front window, but neither did she acknowledge me nor slow her pace.

Long after the storm had swept away any trace of her passing, I stood, staring out the frost-lined window at the swirling snow.

Of course, I couldn't predict that this was leading toward what would become the most significant of my encounters with her.

It was a magnificent day in June, and the sun's radiance was cast down from an equally resplendent sky.

I was walking by a park where I used to play as a child. It was empty. I sat down on a weather-beaten bench and stretched out my legs. Before long, I sensed movement at the edge of my vision, a swirl of black, white and grey against a background of red and green.

There she was, standing across the street in front of a rose garden, her long hair cascading over bare shoulders. She reached down and picked a single flower.

I remained motionless, scarcely daring to breathe, afraid of frightening her away, as I had always done before.

She turned toward the park, caressing her cheek with the petals of a rose as black as sable.

Perplexed, I looked back at the garden, and saw that all the roses there were red.

She crossed the street into the park like a ghost, so light of step and smooth of stride that she projected the illusion that she was somehow floating instead of walking. She hummed to herself as she went, one hand moving slowly with the melody, the sound sweetly inviting, almost hypnotic. She was the picture of elegance, an earthbound angel. My senses drank in the sight and sound of her. I was entirely captivated.

She stopped suddenly in front of a set of swings; her melody abruptly cut off in mid-note. After a moment of reflection, she turned and sat down on one of the swings. For several minutes she just sat there quietly, pondering the black rose she held in her small hands. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at me. She had known I was there all along.

Without looking away from me, she reached out and took hold of the chains as if she were about to start swinging, but instead of pushing back with her legs, simply lifted her feet off the ground.

The creaking of the chain links seemed like the only sound in the universe as she drifted slowly back and forth. Still she watched me.

I stood up, and on unsteady legs started moving cautiously toward her. I feared that even during the instant of blinking my eyes she might disappear. But she didn't. As I drew near she remained passive, her face displaying no emotion.

I stopped beside her and cleared my suddenly dry throat. "Hello…again," I managed.

She looked up at me through dancing grey eyes and offered me her coy smile. Then she scissor-kicked her legs like an impatient child, and her lips pulled back over perfect white teeth in a smile so shockingly beautiful that I felt as though my heart might burst. In retrospect, that was probably the happiest moment of my life.

Her eyes said, "Swing me." She then turned her attention away from me, and waited.

I had nothing against which to measure the level of acceptance she had just accorded me.

I walked behind her. I was so close to her then that I could have reached out and touched her. My fingers itched to feel the softness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin; I longed to wrap my arms around her and kiss her neck, her cheek, her lips.

Above all else though, I wanted to gain her trust, so fighting the desire to reach my hands around her slender waist, I took hold of either side of the wooden seat instead.

The smell of her hair was maddening. Although the essence of flowers and spice were all around me, it was that underlying scent, both intimate and comforting, and whose origin still eluded me, which drove me to distraction.

I backed up, pulling the swing with me and lifting her from the ground. As I released the swing, her hair brushed against my face.

The world shimmered in front of my eyes, its features distorting; objects somehow lost their cohesiveness, blending together in a swirl of liquid colour then separating again into new shapes.

I found myself standing in the middle of a bustling amusement park. I could see children's rides and games of chance, and in the background a Ferris wheel, turning lazily against an azure sky.

I took in all the sounds of the place: the droning of voices; the music; the loud metallic wailing of roller coaster cars co-mingled with the shrieks of those within, as they plummeted down a steep slope; the luring calls of the barkers and carnies.

Out of the crowd of milling people emerged a man and a woman. Between them was young boy of perhaps three years, each of his hands enfolded in one of theirs.

I recognized at once that the man was my father and the woman, my mother. I glanced down at the child's face and saw that I was looking at myself. I was suddenly that child again, innocent, and safe from the corruption of the world.

My eyes blurred with tears, and in that absence of vision I became more aware of that smell in her hair that had so defied recognition. In this setting, it was easy to associate the sweet smell of candied apples and cotton candy, a smell I found to be distinctly reminiscent of my youth.

I blinked back the tears from my eyes, wanting only to return to a time where everything I saw filled me with a sense of wonderment.

But as my vision cleared I found I was looking down at an empty swing, swaying back and forth, the chain links creaking in time with its movement.

I looked beyond the swing and saw her standing there, watching me intently as she smelled the black rose.

"I'm sorry," was all I could think of to say.

She turned and ran.

After a moment of hesitation, I was after her.

She ran with deceptive speed in the direction of a huge elm tree, her feet kicking up the bottom of her dress, her dark hair trailing behind like the mane of a wild horse. She disappeared around the back of the elm, but not before looking back to see if I followed.

When I reached the tree I stopped, placed my hands on the trunk, then carefully looked around to the other side, expecting to see her there. She wasn't. I leaned my head against the tree, closed my eyes in frustration, and said quietly to myself, "I don't even know your name."

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew she was there, the fragrance of her hair having given her away. I turned and she stood before me, her large eyes as scintillating as gemstones.

She inclined toward me, gently resting a hand on my shoulder, and in a voice as soft as velvet, whispered a word into my ear.

It was fortunate that I was already leaning against the tree, because my legs began to give way beneath me. Instantly, my head felt like it was full of sand, and I sensed consciousness beginning to slip away. In the final moments before the world went black, I saw a beautiful girl dressed in grey, her arm extended toward me, her hand holding a black rose.

When I came around, I found I was lying beside a dying elm tree, at the edge of a park where I used to play as a child.

The word she whispered to me changed everything.

I know now that she wants me, and always has. She has never feared me, but chose to appear as I wanted her to, knowing that I would become obsessed and desire her over anyone else.

She offered me the black rose, and in taking it I fear I would have given myself completely over to her.

Now that I know her name, I can't help but think of her more often; and the more I think of her, the more susceptible I become to her charms.

Whenever I see her now, she entices me with her radiant smile, and bids me to take the rose.

She comes to my bed as I lie awake at night. I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck, and the soft caress of what could only be the black rose against my back. But I pretend to be asleep.

It would be so easy to just give in to her, and she is confident that I will.

I know that I would feel safe in her arms, but I also know that it would be a false sense of security. I know that she would remain with me always, but when I became old and began to feel the last grains of life slipping through my fingers, she would provide no comfort, leaving me to spend my final hours bitter and resentful.

I must never accept her black rose, but continue to turn away from her.

She is ageless, and I fear her more than death itself.

Her name is Loneliness.

[deepbluexocean]

"Come on now," Ocean said. He was kneeling beside a car parked on the street near Town Hall, reaching underneath it trying to catch a cat that had just run underneath it. The cat had appeared scared but generally in good health, and this was a town of witches, so it wouldn't have surprised Ocean if the cat was someone's familiar. Even so, it seemed skittish, like it was lost, and Ocean couldn't just ignore that. His plan was to get the cat, take it home, and then try and find the owner, but...well, it wasn't going as planned. Looking underneath the car, Ocean sighed; every time he almost had the cat, it moved away. "Please," Ocean pleaded. "I just want to drink my milkshake and go home, but I can't just leave you."

"Come on now," Ocean said. He was kneeling beside a car parked on the street near Town Hall, reaching underneath it trying to catch a cat that had just run underneath it. The cat had appeared scared but generally in good health, and this was a town of witches, so it wouldn't have surprised Ocean if the cat was someone's familiar. Even so, it seemed skittish, like it was lost, and Ocean couldn't just ignore that. His plan was to get the cat, take it home, and then try and find the owner, but...well, it wasn't going as planned. Looking underneath the car, Ocean sighed; every time he almost had the cat, it moved away. "Please," Ocean pleaded. "I just want to drink my milkshake and go home, but I can't just leave you." Work had been rough today - a customer had treated him like an idiot just because Ocean was quiet - and he had indulged in a milkshake despite the chill in the air. And all he wanted to do was drink it as he walked home, the milkshake serving as a distraction from the fact that his bike was still ruined.

While he reached for the cat, Ocean had set his milkshake down on the sidewalk, but someone nearly knocked it over as they walked by; Ocean barely caught it in time, and this startled the cat, who immediately ran underneath the next car. "Wow," Ocean said aloud as he stood, walking over to the car. It was fancy and looked expensive, and while Ocean didn't even know how to drive, he was still impressed. But right now he needed to focus on the cat, so he set the milkshake on top of the car and knelt down again. And as he did so, Ocean saw a woman on the other side of the car, the cat immediately rushing into her arms - it had found its owner. Good, Ocean thought, a big smile on his face, but it didn't last because that was when a gust of wind came through and knocked his milkshake over. it happened so fast, and Ocean couldn't believe it as he saw the spill all over the car. "No no no no no no NO!" Ocean exclaimed, but it was too late. Of course this had happened, of course it had, and now Ocean was furious with himself. Why did he always mess things up? Looking toward Town Hall, Ocean considered just leaving, but that wasn't him; he couldn't just act like this hadn't happened, and he would need to come clean to the owner of this car and apologize.

While he reached for the cat, Ocean had set his milkshake down on the sidewalk, but someone nearly knocked it over as they walked by; Ocean barely caught it in time, and this startled the cat, who immediately ran underneath to cower behind the motorcycle that was in the next parking spot. "Wow," Ocean said aloud as he stood, walking over to it. It was fancy and looked expensive, and while Ocean didn't even know how to drive a car let alone a motorcycle, he was still impressed. But right now he needed to focus on the cat, so he set the milkshake on the sidewalk - it felt like a bad idea to put it on the motorcycle - and knelt down again. And as he did so, Ocean saw a woman on the other side of the motorcycle, the cat immediately rushing into her arms - it had found its owner. Good, Ocean thought, a big smile on his face, standing up. He took a step back, admiring the motorcycle again and imagining the owner, and he turned back to face Town Hall, wondering if they were inside. As he looked up a the building, Ocean heard a couple walking behind him and talking about the motorcycle, and when Ocean turned back around, he saw that they were touching it. Uh oh, he thought - Ocean had a bad feeling about this. Sure enough, the motorcycle started to waver, and instead of trying to stop it, the couple just ran off. Everything happened so fast then: Ocean lunged forward, knocking his milkshake all over the sidewalk (though he didn't care about that now) and grabbing the handlebars of the bike, managing to keep it from hitting the pavement at the last second. But the bike was heavy, and it already felt like he was losing his hold of it.

Location: Town Hall For: Anyone | @cardinalhq Character: Aristotle McIntyre

Aris stood outside the town hall, the sturdy brick building looming in front of him. It had been almost two decades since he’d roamed these streets, and now, at 28, he was back— the Ducati 900SS parked beside him, its polished chrome glinting in the sunlight. He could feel the weight of nostalgia hanging in the air as he recalled his mother’s stories about this place, how she used to bring him when she filled out paperwork for assistance - how she tried to pretend she wasn't crying when she was denied.

He adjusted his leather jacket, a far cry from the boyish clothes he wore as a child, and took a deep breath. “Okay, Aris, just register the bike and get out,” he murmured to himself, hoping the familiarity of the town hall wouldn’t drag him too deep into the past. The sound of voices drifted from within, laughter and chatter mingling in a way that felt both comforting and foreign.

“Time to face the music,” he added with a wry smile, pushing back the flicker of nerves in his stomach. He stepped up to the entrance, the old wooden door creaking as he pushed it open. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of paper and faintly of lemon-scented cleaner, grounding him in the present. Hopefully no one remembered him as the trouble-maker that used to shoplift -- (it had been so he and his mother had something to eat...)

As he approached the registration desk, he caught sight of a few familiar faces—townsfolk he remembered -- maybe. They didn't seem to know him either.

“Just here to register a bike,” he said, his voice steady as he approached the clerk. “Nothing too complicated.” His name was different. He was different. No one would know him as Keyelin Locke's son.

[l-pandamatic-l]

Hello, The child had come..

Could i get a Rise!Mikey x reader? Where the reader gets lost nd mikey finds them, and then mikey and them get to know eachother- and then the boys found out....

Basically what we've been doing.

Hell yeah! Alright, so, Rise! Mikey x GN! Reader where Mikey finds them during his patrol. They’re lost and so he helps them out, but the boys find out and he never hears the end of it:

You had been walking around for hours at least. It was dark and cold, and you were getting really scared. You had no idea where you were or what happened. You just remember walking home and you had tried to play some music. And when you finally got it working, you looked up and realized you had no idea where you were. You looked around panicked and started walking, and you’ve been walking since, trying to find anything similar. A street, a house, heck, even just a puddle on the floor! But nothing. You started to cry. You hadn’t noticed until you were sobbing, setting yourself down on the nasty floor of an alleyway between ‘New York’s best pizza’ and ‘Best Pizza in NYC’ 

You didn’t really know how loud you were until you heard a loud thump, followed by a strange voice saying: “Oh no, dude, are you okay?”

Startled, you wiped your tears with your shaky hands. “I d-don’t have any mo-money. Please leave me al-lone!” 

The voice hopped down in front of you, though you couldn’t see him since the streetlight in the alley was broken and nothing else was on at this time of night. 

“Don’t be scared! I don’t want money. I was just… exploring. And saw you. And got a little worried-“

“Exploring?” You scoffed, “Who explores at night? In the dark? On the roof?” You asked, not fully believing him at all. 

He sighed and stepped to the side, the light from a nearby store just barely lighting the alley enough for you to see him. “HOLY CRAP!” You squealed in fright, as he followed suit and jumped back. 

“Sorry! Sorry! Not judging just… what are You?” You ask, reaching forward as he chuckled nervously. 

“Well I’m not human. That’s obvious. 

“Yeah! No crap!”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright! Okay! I saved your life so I’m not hostile. Don't be scared! My name’s Mikey…”

—————————————

That was the first time you two had met. From then on, you were inseparable. 

Mikey was glued to your hip night and day, around the lair and even when you were out in day, you’d see him lurking around, waving happily. Much to your annoyance, however, whenever you were trying to concentrate in school. 

For a while now, however, you had decided to keep your first ever secret from Mikey. You had a bit of a crush on him. You had a suspicion that his brother’s might know, however. 

For instance, when Mikey had accidentally tumbled off the dance machine and fallen over you with his dorky smile. Thankfully he didn't see the red that covered your face and the big dizzy grin that held on for quite a bit afterwards. But his brothers did. And you never heard the end of it. Leo’s smirk was still ingrained in your memory. 

There was another instance as well. Mikey had just finished a patrol with his brothers when they walked in on you, with a big orange sweatshirt on. One that just so happened to be Mikey’s. You had spilled something on yourself and it was the only clean thing you could find laying around. But it was still embarrassing. 

—————————————

Mikey had never thought about you two that way but lately his brothers just wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Leo constantly teased him About it, and while Raph joined in, Donnie would start chattering about the likeliness of the feelings being reciprocated. Altogether, Mikey was just a mess. But it would always melt as soon as he saw you. His best friend and his reason for joy almost every day. 

—————————————

I could finish this romantically, leave it platonic, or I could just let all of you suffer with some angst to go with it. You choose. >:)

[wolfsclothing6]

“Hey dad, do you know what’s going on with Ed? He hasn’t been there for any of our college classes this whole week and he hadn’t been answering his phone either.”

“Maybe he’s not feeling too well? I don’t know what else would keep him from attending his classes.” John says, trying to assure his son that his friend is alright.

“I thought that might have been it but yesterday I saw this older guy parking his truck in their driveway. The way he went about it almost looked like he lived there or something. They couldn’t have just moved out without telling anyone, right?”

John frowns, he didn’t think it was likely, surely Ed’s father, Hank, would have mentioned something about that beforehand. Besides John hadn’t seen any moving trucks at their place.

“Maybe he’s just some relative staying over with them?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right dad, it’s still so weird though… I’ve seen him smoking a cigar in front of Ed’s house when I was on my way home from class and the way he stared at me just gave me the goosebumps..”

John nodded, now that Will had mentioned it, he had noticed a few odd looking characters like that around the neighborhood over these past couple days. All of them large, older, cigar smoking men with grey beards on their faces, who stared straight at him whenever he passed them on the street.

“I think I know what you mean son, I saw someone like that yesterday. Guy was built like a truck and looked like he might have gotten lost on his way to some country fair with that whole cowboy getup. But the strangest thing was that when I took a look at his face, it almost seemed familiar in a way.”

John still couldn’t figure out why he thought that though, he would have definitely remembered seeing someone like that before. Even now he was having trouble getting rid of the mental image of the man’s enormous gut that spilled over his belt and his huge, hirsute, gorilla arms. He must have really enjoyed showing those off, why else would he be wearing nothing underneath that skimpy leather vest? But there was something about the man’s face, something in his eyes, maybe underneath all those wrinkles and that wild, greying beard he really did look like someone he knew? John didn’t dwell on that though, not thinking much of it at the time or even now.

“Exactly! Same with that guy I saw living in Ed’s place, he’s exactly what I would expect Ed to look like if he ever turned into some redneck once he got older. Maybe he really is just a relative of theirs. I dunno, I think I’m going to go and get ready for my classes, hopefully Ed will show up today.”

“Alright son, I’ll see you later.” John says, waving his son off as he leaves for class. John sits and thinks about the conversation they just had, wondering if he should go see if Hank and Ed are home. Standing up he looks through the window, there is an old, beat up truck parked in driveway, John doesn’t recall them ever owning one and figures that it must belong to Ed’s visiting uncle, that’s probably who that man is.

Suddenly he sees their front door opening as the very man he’d just been thinking about steps outside, wearing a blue flannel vest with nothing underneath and smoking a fat, long cigar.. As he sees the man making his way to his car John decides that this would be a perfect opportunity to chat him up and clear up everything.

John hurries out, waving the older gentleman down before he can slide inside the car. “Hey there!” John calls out, jogging up to him. The older man just grunts a greeting. Being this close to him John can see that the man does look a lot like Hank, so maybe he was right about him being his brother. “I’m John, I live across the street from you guys.” he says while stretching out his hand. The older man wraps his meaty fingers around it and gives it a firm shake, still not saying anything. “I was wondering how Ed was doing. My son mentioned that it’s been a few days since he last showed up for any his college classes. Had he fallen ill or something?.”

“Mornin’ neighbor, Ed doin’ mighty fine the last I’ve seen ‘im” the man lets out a rambunctious chuckle, still holding John’s hand within his furry paw. If John didn’t know better he would have thought that the man was actually trying pull him closer against his massive, barrel chest. The air between them started filling with cigar smoke and John immediately noted how that must have been the same brand as the one that cowboy from earlier had been smoking. Suddenly he found himself so enamored by the smell that it didn’t even occur to him how strange it was that he still remembered it after getting just a faint whiff a couple days ago. John saw the man locking his lips around the stogie, sucking on it until its tip turned bright red and as he opened his mouth to let out all the smoke, John found himself opening his as well, except to suck in as much of it as he could. But only a few billows made it past his throat before a series of brutal, loud coughs took over his body.

Once they were over John shook his head and tried to subtly pull away, acting as if the last couple moments didn’t happen at all. “Um, right… if you see Hank could you ask him to give me a call please? And let Ed know that my son’s been feeling concerned about him if that’s okay?” John asks, finally getting his hand back from the larger older man. “Well, I reckon ya could ask ‘em yourself, Pops is right there in the backyard with his buddies.” the man says. “Oh that’s great, I’ll go do that then, thank you!” John hurries away, taking in deep breaths of fresh air to clear up his head as he gets further away from the cigar smoking bear.

John makes his way around Hank’s house and sees a group of men lounging by the pool, they are all very large and extremely hairy. Either bearded or sprouting some other form of thick facial hair. Every last one of those strange, out of place looking fellows he’d talked about with his son appears to be there, smoking an obligatory cigar and staring straight at him. In fact, the only person he doesn’t see there is the man of the house himself, Hank. John doesn’t have much of a chance to inquire about that before a huge, hirsute guy who sat nearby took note of his presence and hollered out to everyone in thick Southern accent “Dang, look what the cat dragged in boys, it’s Johnny! We’ve been just talkin’ about ya bud!”

John hears the burly men letting out hoots and hollers as he walks further in. “I’m sorry but do I know you?” John asks once he gets closer to the old man that had called out his name. He doesn’t recall ever seeing him before, could he be another relative of Hank’s? And where was Hank anyway, John would never expect his neighbor to get chummy with men like this, especially with bad habits like all that smoking and drinking that’s going on here. “Course you know me bud!” the old man says, drawing John’s attention to him. The old man removes his sunglasses and as John takes a look at his eyes he can’t help but think that he knows them from somewhere, even despite the rest of the man’s wrinkled, round face appearing completely alien to him.

The man grins and rolls the cigar to the corner of his mouth, looking very amused by John’s perplexed face, as does everyone gathered around them. “This isn’t funny, who the hell are you, where’s Hank?!” John fires off as his patience reaches its limit. The man’s grin grows even wider as he licks his lips and puts his furry hand over his crotch. “Ya sure about that bud, ya really wanna know?” he replies, prompting a number of surrounding men to snicker. John only faintly nods his head, slightly thrown off by the guy’s bizarre reaction. “All righty then, but remember… ya asked fer this yerself bud… Grab ‘im Junior!”

Before John can react to what this old man had said he’s grabbed by a pair of strong, furry arms from behind. “Let me go!” He shouts while struggling against the man’s grasp, much to the amusement of the others around him. “No can do.” the man chuckles and John immediately identifies him as the man he spoke to in the driveway. “What’s the meaning of this?! Let me go!”John yells out again. “Why Johnny? You’ve said it yerself, ya wanted tah know where yer friend Hank is, I’m only goin’ tah tell ya, I’m gonna show ya, bud” He says as he pulls the cigar out his mouth and blows a mouthful of smoke in John’s direction.

John begins to cough again, feeling the thick smoke invading his lungs. He sees the man slowly hefting himself up from his chair and moving in his direction, together with a number of others who had previously only watched from the distance. “What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?!” John shouts, trying once again to free himself from the bearded man’s grasp. His struggles only seem to amuse him as the man’s burly arms hardly budge at all. He laughs, filling the air around them with plumes of cigar smoke.

John starts to feel dizzy, finding himself subjected to even more smoke as the other bear walks up closer to him. “If ya didn’t miss our last poker night bud you���d know where Hank is.” the older hirsute bear says, prompting everyone around to laugh. “See, Marty brought over a box of these gars. At first nobody wanted to smoke anythin’ called ‘Redneck Stogies’, but after Marty fired one up it wasn’t long before the boys joined in, mahself included.” the man says. This has to be some kind of a joke, why is that old man talking about that poker night out of the sudden. “It wasn’t long before we’ve all started whipping out our fat, daddy dicks and turning into the hot, redneck bears you can see before ya bud.” he says letting out another raucous belly laugh. It may be because of his dizzy state but John almost believes him at first. As he looks around at the men around him, John can see that they all look eerily familiar to his poker friends and other various neighbors. He notices the big bellied cowboy he told his son about this morning, from the start he couldn’t get rid of the impression that he looked a lot like Jim, one of Hank’s coworkers.

Same with the guy that’s been talking to him, je does look so much like his next door neighbor. Only a bit older and so much bigger… hairier… ho- no… it must be that smoke messing with his head and making it so fuzzy he almost believed what the man had said. They must be trying to drug him somehow, that’s probably what they did to the real Hank too. “Shut up! Let me go and take me to my neighbor or I’ll call the cops!” John snaps but the men don’t seem to be taking his threats seriously at all. “Ya still don’ believe me? It’s fine, I didn’t want to either when I went downstairs for a couple minutes and returned to find Steve bending Jim over the card table and plowing his ass like no tomorrow. Don’ cha worry though… after the boys held me down and fed me some of the smoke it wasn’t long before I was aching to take Steve’s place, gonna be the same fer ya Johnny. Now I know why the guys at the shop were so generous with their ‘free samples’ once Tom told them he was looking for something for our poker night, we all just can’t get enough of these gars now.”

This was insane, surely this guy was crazy. Something like that just wasn’t possible… right? John found himself having some doubts now, unsure what to believe after breathing in so much of that smoke. He was starting to feel really strange, even his cock was growing harder and forming a small tent inside his pants after hearing that whole story. Fuck… giving Jim’s fat, furry ass a good plowing sure sounded hot… wait, what? “Looks like yer startin’ tah enjoy yerself Johnny!” Hank hollers, before taking a drag off his cigar and exhaling it straight into John’s face, covering it with a thick, grey mist. John tries his best to hold his breath but there is so much smoke everywhere that it’s just impossible to avoid breathing it in. Eventually he just can’t help it and gasps, taking in a mouthful of it inside his body which makes him feel even dizzier. “Nnngh, let me go…” John moans feeling an intense wave of arousal sweeping over him, barely finding any strength left to struggle against the man’s grasp. “No can do Mr Owens, not before I find out what a sexy daddy bear yer goin’ tah make.” Oh god… in that single moment John realized who this huge, bearded man behind him really was “Mr Owens”, that’s exactly what Ed always called him whenever he saw him on the street or came over to visit his son, no matter how many times he assured him that ‘John’ was enough. But surprisingly knowing that didn’t faze him as much as he thought it might. In fact thinking of these cigars turning Ed into such a big bear of man only made his arousal grow stronger.

John’s inner conflict clearly wasn’t missed by the surrounding men as they all started rubbing their crotches. “I see yer startin’ tah enjoy it bud, how about I show ya how good it feels to suck on one of these?” drawled Hank while extending his hand with a half smoked cigar towards John. “We’re running out so I was havin’ mah boy pick up a couple more boxes fer us before ya turned up, but I reckon I might be generous and share this one with ya bud.” John tried his best to pull away when he saw Hank moving right next to him while sucking on his cigar. But despite John’s best efforts his neighbor’s bearded lips were on top of his, hungrily kissing him and invading his mouth with his tongue, blowing tobacco smoke straight down his throat. A haze of pure lust instantly clouded John’s mind as he found himself between two furry, massive bodies. His cock growing painfully hard as he felt their prominent bulges grinding against him from the front and the back. His body began growing, heating up, John felt an unfamiliar itch spreading over his cheeks as thick, white stubble covered them completely. But as soon as it began, it was over once Hank pulled away. In that same moment John found himself involuntarily moaning as if to protest that he didn’t get more, before barely regaining his composure once he realized what he was doing. “Dang it, this is even more fun than when I’ve changed mah boy. In fact, why don’t ya tell ‘im how it went down Junior, I reckon it’s gonna make his cock leak even more!”

“I didn’t think much of it when I first smelled cigar smoke creeping inside my room, I’ve tried to focus on studying, but it wasn’t long before all I could think about was whipping out my hard cock and beating off. I was already starting to change when I the heard moans coming from across the hallway and decided to follow them. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found everyone turned into these hot, furry, redneck bears they are now right in the middle of fucking each other’s brains out. Something inside my head was screaming at me to get out of there, but my cock was rock hard and all I wanted was to join in on the fun, so I just stood there, unsure what to do, until one of these hot bears took notice of me. He told me to get my ass right in there between his legs and suck daddy off. As I watched him slowly jerking that huge, fat, daddy dick of his, looking so hot, I just couldn’t resist and simply had to do as I was told. Pa kept on showering me with the smoke from his gar and by the time he unloaded in my mouth, I was another horny, redneck daddy like the rest of the boys.” Ed says, his voice betraying a great deal of arousal at the memory.

He wasn’t the only one either as John found himself picturing every last detail of what Ed had described, growing so aroused he lost control completely. His body began changing again. the white stubble growing thicker and turning into a full beard, the hair on his head turning white and thinning out at the front, his face becoming withered as he slowly crept up in age. John’s in shape body was soon completely gone as it kept on packing on the pounds of excess fat, his stomach rounding out into a big, hefty gut with a thick dusting of white hair covering it. John couldn’t help but moan as the lust overwhelmed his mind, his cock began dripping with precum and staining the front of his jeans. John couldn’t help imagining doing something like this to his son as well. Having Will get on his knees and suck his old, daddy bear off before he handed him a cigar and watched him turn into a real man like the one he was becoming himself right now.

John let out a deep, low grunt and thrust his hips forward. He was so unimaginably horny, he looked down at his changing body, his big, round gut and the nearly fully grown, grey beard. The fit, almost hairless, clean-shaven forty year old from barely fifteen minutes ago was gone and in his place stood a nearly fully changed daddy bear. That was so fucking hot, and the thought of making others like him, especially his son was turning him on even more. “Let me fuckin’ go, need tah nut, need tah fuck yer hole!” John heard himself grunt with an accent just as thick as Hank’s, as he tried to pull away from Ed’s grasp. He seemed to be having much more trouble keeping him contained than when he first grabbed him and John could already tell that it won’t be long before he grows strong enough to overpower him and gets to bury his massive, daddy dick inside his furry ass, fuck yeah… no… this wasn’t right… this wasn’t his voice… he didn’t really want to do that… he had to remember that… he had to keep on fighting… “Ya really want us tah let ya go? I reckon we might as well let ya… but first yer gonna have tah smoke this gar down tah its cap bud!” growled Hank as he stuck the stub of the cigar he was smoking between John’s lips.

It smelled so delicious, he wanted so much to suck on it, fill his lungs with its smoke and have it change him even further, make him grow even bigger, hairier, hotter… his cock had to be massive already, it was practically ready to tear through the fabric of his pants by now. His whole body was… John could hear his clothes starting to tear at their seams and couldn’t wait for that to happen, he wanted so much to see his new daddy bear body in its full glory. No… he couldn’t give in… this cigar was barely an inch long, it was only a matter of a couple more minutes before it will be gone and he will be free, he could resist… wait it out… and then he could escape… get to his son and… and pump that cub full cum and gar smoke until he turns into a horny ol’ fuck like him! Oh god… no…

[tokrev-roses]

Cool Cool Boy

although you are happy with your love, your ex-boyfriend wants to be a part of your life again. jealous boyfriends and phones involved + NSFW (original request)

🖋Genre: Smut (Mikey, Draken Chifuyu), Fluff (Baji)

⚠️Warnings: 18+ for everyone but Baji, description of the female body and sexual acts, bad writing/grammar/spelling

👥Characters: Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu, Baji

❧ Keisuke Baji

Fancy dates are not his thing

It was not only that he had a budget, being a middle schooler and everything, he also simply didn’t vibe with it

But it was your anniversary, so he saved up all his pocket money and tried to behave so mama Baji would let him out

Cue to him waiting in front of a popular restaurant for young couples, wearing his edgy street clothes

And to both of your surprise, everything went smoothly

He excused himself to the restroom for a sec, and while you were waiting at your table, daydreaming about the beauty of this evening, someone sat down on Keisuke’s chair

You turned towards the person, fully expecting to see your boyfriend, but were met with a less than pleasant view. Your ex-boyfriend greeted you with a satisfied smirk.

“Enjoying yourself, y/n? You know, I always thought you were one of those girls who loved fancy stuff, considering how much you loved our dates and my presents. That you’d settle for someone who is unable to offer you more than this…” He made a derogatory gesture towards the other tables.

This was no high-end restaurant with view over the Tokyo skyline, but it was Baji who put a lot of effort into this, and it meant more to you than anything else

As you were about to respond, a shadow towered over your ex

“What do you think you are doing her punk?”

“This is the trash you left me for, y/n?”

As he was about to laugh, Baji seized him by the collar, lifted him up, and threw him away like actual trash

Knowing Keisuke, you tried to stop the enraged berserker he was about to turn into. No need for a brawl in the middle of a restaurant

You managed to calm him, nonetheless the manager kindly asked all three of you to leave

Keisuke kept quiet on your way home. You knew why. He actually wanted everything to be perfect, to show you how much you meant to him and it was ruined by his temper and a slimy asshole

„♪Kei-Su-Ke♪“, you poked the dimples of your grumpy boyfriend. “I loved this evening. Minus that idiot, but that was none of your fault.”

“Hm.”

He kept walking.

Ok, you’d have to bring the big guns in

With two big steps you were behind him to give him the strongest back hug possible

“Ya, you punk. Wanna pick a fight?”, your effort to imitate his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“As if a small fry like you could win against me.”

With that you knew the ice was broken. What you didn’t expect was him turning around fast as lightening, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

You tried to scream but it ended in heartful laughter

A perfect anniversary indeed.

❧ Manjiro Sano

(Future!Mikey, Dark-Haired)

King of jealousy and most possessive out of all the boys, so you can imagine his reaction as you told him your ex-boyfriend visited you at work

The mood instantly shifted

“Come on, Manjiro. He didn’t ask me to marry him or anything.”

This joke was not appreciated by him, and he stayed broody for the rest of the evening

You should have known that he was up to something as he suddenly became very touchy with you, but you pinned it on his neediness

Things got even stranger when he didn’t let you touch or pleasure him, but instead kept making you feel like wax between his fingers

It wasn’t just the way he abused your neck with longing kisses or how he caressed the sides of your body with featherlight touches as he made his way downwards. Not the way he fondled your breasts with the utmost care, kissing and sucking your nipples until you couldn’t keep your whimpers from spilling.

The satisfied smile he gave you as you made the first sound should have shown you that there was more to it, but you were so lost in pleasure, that you really didn’t care

Things got worse (or better) for you as he reached your most intimate spot

If he was skilled at pleasuring you before, he was a god at doing so today.

White pleasure blinded you as his velvet tongue explored every part of you. Every moan and whimper you gave him was met with a pleased hum that vibrated through your body.

When you couldn’t stop your own need from feeling every part of him on you, you used your hands in his dark hair to push him closer to you.

Instead of understanding your silent plea like he usually would, he just kept going and going until your vision got blurred by tears and your voice was hoarse.

Only then he let you go, mumbling something you were too tired to understand.

You slept well that night, with Mikey hugging you loke a koala

It was only when you looked at your phone the next morning, that you realized what he had done.

A chat with your ex-boyfriend, who must have written you last evening about going out for dinner, cough your eye. Your answer, which you definitely didn’t send, consisted of a 30 second audio.

Innocent you played it, of course, and it took you a second to realize what exactly you were hearing.

That was you. You, moaning in ecstasy. You were frozen in place an listened all the way through it

The audio ended with a raspy voice you knew all too well

“She is busy with me.”

❧ Ken Ryuguji

Your phone was broken.

It did not show you, who tried to call you and called people you never meant to call. That’s why instead of putting it in your pockets, it usually laid somewhere beside you. Like today as you were cooking dinner for your finance who was about to come home from his bike shop very soon

The last days had been a bit stressful, he had a lot to do, couldn’t spend any time with you and you went to meet your ex-boyfriend for coffee, as he himself was about to get married soon

Ken tried to be understanding, but the amount of your time this past fling consumed annoyed him

That’s why he wanted to make up for lost time this evening

He didn’t hesitate when he saw you standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan and looking so perfect

On swift move and the giant had placed you on the counter, standing between your spread legs, face buried in your neck

“Well, someone seems eager.”

He wasn’t willing to waste time with your teasing but begun to assault your lips

Heavy breathing filled the room as he cupped your chin with one hand and tried to get rid of your clothes with the other

Your bodies soon met with a pleasurable sensation, moving in synch.

You held on to him like your life depended on it, ankles hooked behind his back

He wasn’t one to moan, but his heavy breathing had something so unexplainable erotic to it, that it made up for the missing foreplay

One couldn’t be without the other and if it wouldn’t have been for the laws of nature, you would have said that your brains your hearts and your pleasure became one

Sweat made the counter slippery, and your voice became raspy as you finally reached your high together

“Well, hello there.” You could literally hear the smirk on his lips as he said this.

“…hello?”

You thought you were hallucination from your post-orgasmic bliss as you heard another voice talking to the both of you. But Ken’s shocked face as he looked towards your phone woke you up

It couldn’t be that your phone called your ex-boyfriend, right?

Right??  

❧ Chifuyu Matsuno

It’s not like Chifuyu needs your attention all the time, but he kinda needs it when he wants it you know?

And today he really needed it

He had given the shop into the hands of his partner, Kazutora, to spend some time with you, as a surprise

The thing with surprises was, that they usually came at the worst times

His mood went downwards as he came home and instead of giving him a confused hug, asking him why he was home already, you were on the phone with god knows whom

He thought you’d end the call soon, so he gave you some space, but as you kept laughing 30 minutes after he arrived, he got annoyed, to say the least.

He didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, but your constant laughter, bickering and smiling made him…curious

It seemed like your former high school sweetheart had called to “remember the good old times”, and although it wasn’t like him at all, he slowly but surely felt anger bubbling inside of him.

You had settled for the couch, and although the other party was on the phone, he felt the need to touch you, so he laid down between your legs, head resting on your stomach

You, of course, noticed the sour mood hanging in the air (not just because he followed you around like a lost puppy while you were phoning this old friend of yours)

So you petted his hair, knowing it would calm him

But the time for appeasement was over, at least for Chifuyu. He knew that you knew that he wanted you to hang up, yet you didn’t

It started as an innocent kiss on your stomach, which you answered with a silent chuckle, shaking your hand to signal him to stop

That he ignored it would be an understatement

Something you realised as he started caressing your intimate part through your clothes

As your friend on the other side was continuing to tell you about his life, your attention was captured by the innocent puppy-dog eyes your boyfriend gave you as he got rid of the annoying layers keeping him from feeling you

He began giving you kitten licks, that literally took your breath away. Good for you, the other man didn’t notice

Chifuyu, that devil, knew what he was doing, keeping eye contact with you while doing the most sinful things to you

It got worse as he took your pearl between his soft lips and started sucking

You had to press your fist on your mouth to keep any sound from spilling

He continued his assault with a steady pace, and you wanted him to stop as much as you wanted him to continue

“Y/n, are you still there?”

You hadn’t noticed that the excited voice on the phone had stopped

Faster than you could react, Chifuyu had snatched your phone away from you.

His breath tickled your now wet parts as he answered

“Something came up just now, and she needs to come. Try again, pal.”