#sh. chapter seven

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I'D MEET THE SEA UNDER THE SUNLIGHT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai knows. he knows who you are. he knows what you do. and not only does he know, but in typical dazai fashion, he decides to make it fully your problem. now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out what to do with him—the answer should be obvious, you just can't accept it. but time is ticking and you're treading a thin rope, if you make the smallest mistake...

AUTHOR'S NOTES: part four my children. my eye procedure went well! i've been resting all day, i prob won't be active very much until monday/tuesday, so i'lll queue a few reblogs of this ... i say that, but i also don't know if ill be able to stop myself from responding to comments HAHAH i just love talking to u guys about it so much i cant help it. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: i didnt get the chance to proofread this one bc of the procedure so don't crucify me if the grammar is awful </3 i have a doctor's pass </3

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

It takes Dazai Osamu approximately two days, seven hours and fifty-three minutes to get his hands on proof of your affiliation with the Port Mafia. He supposes it was due to luck—the timing of when he got confirmation of his suspicions—but Dazai thinks it’s also due to his ability to think quickly if he does say so himself. 

He stares at the file that Katai emailed him, a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to push away, unsure if he wants to open it and be forced with physical evidence of who you are and what you do. He doesn’t even know why he’s so hesitant, he already knows. He already knows so he shouldn’t be hesitant… but if he already knows, then why does he need to see the proof? What is this going to do for him? What is he going to do with this information? Nothing, the answer is nothing, so then why-

Katai: Can you quit holding that date from four years ago over my head now?

Dazai: no ^.^

Katai: Of course not. Whatever. Dazai, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop digging into this—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to be involved.

Dazai shuts his phone off immediately. 

He hovers the cursor over the video file on his laptop, chewing the inside of his cheek—the supposed footage from whatever happened behind Tokyo’s City Hall last night. With his heart tight in his chest and the image of your smile burned behind his eyelids, he clicks on the file.

Two days after the event, you and Chuuya are sitting in Mori’s office getting the talk down of a lifetime. Mori has been going on for thirty minutes already and you’re sick of his voice. You don’t know how it’s your fault that the Shimazaki-kai decided to try to take you out while you were in Tokyo but evidently it is.

“I don’t see how this is an issue, boss,” Chuuya finally says, voice strained. “The Sun and Steel are already on top of the situation, Noriko was livid when she realized that they tried to assassinate one of us while we were in Tokyo under the Sun and Steel’s protection.”

“You don’t see how this is an issue,” Mori repeats slowly, voice nothing short of mocking. Usually, he at least tries to mask his annoyance—you and Chuuya share a concerned look with one another. “You don’t see how it’s an issue that we’ve caused this conflict to escalate to the point of the Shimazaki-kai being willing to go to war with the Sun and Steel if it means the mere chance of getting rid of one of us?”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, little hime,” Mori says coolly, leveling his calculating gaze onto you. You don’t flinch beneath it, meeting it head on as you raise your chin. “This all stems from your reckless decision to attack the Inagawa-kai.”

“She didn’t have a choice.” Chuuya jumps to your defense, frowning. “They attacked her at the ports. That was a declaration of war in itself.”

You almost wince at the ridiculing look Mori directs toward Chuuya, voice amused as he speaks. “Is that what she told you?”

Chuuya gives you a questioning look but you don’t give Mori anymore time to stir the pot. You don’t need Chuuya knowing that your decision was driven by Dazai of all people—he’s already angry enough about the situation with the civilian. 

“And here I thought you were going to… what was it you said? ‘Clean up my mess?’” you say snidely, drawing Mori’s attention back to you. “Perhaps the real reason the Yakuza syndicates are so willing to challenge our authority is not because of my decision but rather because of the incapability perceived in our boss.” 

Chuuya’s eyes shoot open and Mori raises his brows, entirely unperturbed by your comment. 

“To think all it would take for you to start biting back…” Mori trails off, unbearably amused and clearly referring to Dazai, making you stiffen. “How fascinating. You’ve kept up this ruse longer than I expected. I think this is the first time you’ve managed to surprise me, little hime.” 

Your expression twists as you look away, ignoring the lost look Chuuya gives you, clearly irritated because he doesn’t know what’s going on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you take the welcome distraction eagerly, hoping to find an excuse to get out of this wretched meeting.

Klaus: your civilian boy is at your tower

You: What?

Klaus: *one image attached*

You stare down at your phone in shock, desperately trying to ignore the curious looks Mori and Chuuya are sending your way.

What the fuck?

Dazai tilts his head to the side, giving the three boys standing in front of him a simpering smile. One of them—the emo one with black hair and white tips—bares his teeth at Dazai like a feral dog, the one in the middle—Dazai recognizes him as Klaus, the boy with you that day at the ports—gives him an irritable look, while the one standing in the back—a nervous looking boy with choppy silver hair and a black collar—lets out a pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s gonna be so fucking mad at you,” Klaus tells him, voice harsh. His Japanese is broken and accented but understandable for the most part. “She’s gonna fucking-”

He shifts into a foreign language mid-sentence—German, maybe—so Dazai doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s sure it’s nothing good. He keeps up the overly confident facade, even if he does start to doubt himself internally.

Shit, he thinks to himself, smile fraying at the edges, what is he doing?

Dazai definitely did not think this through and it’s way too late for him to back down now. After watching the video and seeing you with the gravity manipulator, seeing the brief battle in the alley behind the Tokyo city hall, Dazai pretty much blackmailed Katai into using the CCTV cameras between both cities to follow you back to Yokohama to see what building you live in. In retrospect, maybe that’s a little creepy, but he just watched you and the gravity manipulator kill a whole crew of people so he thinks stalking you a bit isn’t too bad in comparison.

“Who do you think you are?” the black-haired one says, voice tight and pitched. His jaw is clenched tight and he takes half a step forward but pauses when he sees the sharp look of warning that Klaus gives him.

He thinks maybe he is stupid. Ango used to rattle him around and yell at him for doing stupid things back before Odasaku died but he thinks this might take the cake for the stupidest thing Dazai has ever done. Standing outside a building owned by the Mafia, antagonizing three mafiosos, waiting here to demand a conversation with someone who is likely their boss. Ango might’ve been right when he said that Dazai has no functioning brain cells.

“None of your business,” Dazai replies with a sweet smile, almost giggling at the way the boy bears his teeth again, even more livid than before.

“You-”

“Stop.”

All three boys go rigid at the sound of your voice and even Dazai stiffens at the cold tone. He forces himself to turn his head to the side, eyes falling upon you as you make your way toward the four of them. The suit you’re wearing today is different—usually he’s seen you wear black on black, but today you’re wearing a burgundy button-up under your suit jacket. You look beautiful—always do, Dazai thinks wistfully—but Dazai finds himself swallowing thickly instead, not used to the blank look you cast over him before you turn your attention over to the three boys.

Ouch, Dazai thinks, not really knowing what he expected but it still hurts to be dismissed like that.

“Klaus, go wipe the cameras around headquarters—wherever he might have passed through,” you say. “Akutagawa, Atsushi, if anyone finds out about this…”

The two boys that Dazai doesn’t recognize share a look with one another, odd expressions spreading across their faces before they nod. All three scamper off without another word, the silver-haired boy giving Dazai a short, worried look that puts Dazai on edge before leaving. You don’t look at him. Rather, you stride right past him toward the building.

Dazai swallows thickly before following after you. You don’t say a word as you lead him to the tall, black building and Dazai wants to say something but his words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Dazai always has something to say but he doesn’t right now and that scares him because he needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you when the two of you finally get up to your apartment.

“Hey, I know you’re a mafia executive because I had my hacker friend get me CCTV tapes from the Tokyo City Hall and I saw you and that short ginger with the tacky hat murder a bunch of guys. Plus, I had him stalk you so I could figure out where you live.”

Yeah, right.

Dazai shivers at the rush of cool air that hits him as he enters the building with you, watches the way the doorman gives him a curious look before inclining his head to you. You give the older man a pointed look before nodding your head to one of the corners of the room and the elevator—Dazai doesn’t know what you’re getting at but he obviously does from the way says:

“Of course, hime.”

You don’t say anything still, leading him toward the elevator and holding it open so he can step past and stand inside. You follow after him, clicking the button to the top floor of the building before scanning a keycard.

How awkward.

Dazai almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, toss himself right out of the glass elevator looking over the city. You don’t even look at him—you keep your gaze trained forward, lips curled down, not even sparing Dazai the briefest glance as the elevator starts to move up. 

Maybe this was a mistake, Dazai starts to think, twiddling with his fingers as he keeps sparing short glances in your direction. He still doesn’t even know what he wants to come from this—shouldn’t the proof of your affiliation with the Mafia have been enough to send him running? He should’ve taken it as reason to stop reaching out to you, gone back to life before you but-

But life before you was dark. 

His throat spasms as he swallows. Life before you was dark. Life before you was him dragging himself out of bed every day trying to convince himself that he couldn’t let himself die until he fulfilled Odasaku’s final request. Life before you was him fighting depressive episode after depressive episode with alcohol and sex, preferring pain to the emptiness he seemed to constantly be plagued with because at least that meant he could feel something. 

He doesn’t want to go back to that—you’re the first person who's actually seen him since Odasaku died. The first person to make him feel as if he’s worth something. He doesn’t give a shit about about what you do, he doesn’t want to go back to life without you.

He glances over at you again, catching the eerily blank expression on your face as you stare ahead. Three words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

“Are you mad?” His voice wavers over the question; he feels pathetic. Feels like a kid tugging at his mother’s shirt after he did something wrong.

You finally look at him though, turn your head slowly toward him as if you don’t even want to believe he actually asked that. Dazai doesn’t know if it’s progress or not because the expression on your face is nothing short of livid.

“Okay,” he says quietly, averting his gaze back to the glass of the elevator.

God, how many floors is this building? The ride to the top floor is taking an agonizingly long amount of time. He doesn’t know if it’s because the elevator itself is slow or if it’s because the building is just that tall or if it just seems longer because of Dazai’s own turmoil—either way, it leaves Dazai miserable.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you. He should have figured it out before coming here but Dazai just got too antsy with the information Katai gave him on hand and he found himself making his way over here before he could double guess himself.

He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him using Katai to get the evidence of your position in the Mafia—plus, it could put him in danger and Dazai doesn’t want that. He thinks maybe he’ll pin the blame on his professor—you don’t seem to like him anyway, so you might take it at face value. If you don’t, he’ll have to figure something else out to protect Katai but Dazai has always been a quick thinker so he has faith that he’ll think of something. 

 If he’s lucky, you’ll lead the conversation and he’ll be able to reflect off of you after seeing where your head's at. That would be the best case scenario.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally bings, signaling that it has finally reached the top floor of the building. You step out before him, hardly even looking at him as you stride into your apartment. Dazai follows after, a bit more hesitantly.

His breath catches as his gaze twists around the massive space—floor to ceiling windows line the walls looking over the city, black couches set up in front of the TV and expensive decor littering the room, there’s a kitchen off to the right and a staircase leading up to a second level. 

What types of apartments have staircases? Dazai thinks, distressed, finally looking back at you. 

You’ve crossed the room—almost like you’ve wanted to put as much distance as possible between you and him, which is a thought that kind of hurts because he’s been yearning for your presence since you left his apartment the morning you were supposed to leave for abroad. Your expression is entirely unreadable and Dazai doesn’t really know how to feel about that because he can’t figure out how to approach this now. 

“You know, originally I was interested in you because I thought you were a lot smarter than you made yourself out to be,” you say, voice dry. Dazai nearly cheers, realizing that he did, in fact, get the best case scenario—he listens intently, mind racing as he tries to figure out what route he should take with you. “I was clearly wrong.”

Dazai pouts. “My bella thinks I’m stupid,” he sighs dramatically but his lashes flutter as he averts his gaze when you don’t find any amusement in his words, readjusting his plan. His theatrical lilt falls flat when he adds, “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think there’s a maybe,” you correct, unamused. “What do you know and what do you want?” 

Dazai is almost taken aback by your tone—cold and flat, very transactional. Maybe he should have taken the lead because he doesn’t know what you mean and he doesn’t like your tone. He watches as you fish through your pocket to find a cigarette and lighter, sticking it between your lips to light it. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“What?” he asks, voice a bit weak.

“What do you know and what do you want? I think they’re pretty simple questions,” you say sardonically. “I have a general idea of what you know already—if you’re here, you have more than whatever that cunt Ui has on me—and I promise you that no amount of money the Ivory Eagle will offer you can compare to what I’ll give you. Plus, I’ll have to kill you if you go to it with them so I think that’s pretty convincing in itself. I want to know exactly what you know so I can figure out how much they’d pay you for the information. I figure you want money, that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t…” Dazai trails off, a bit lost. He’s still not sure why he came here but he knows it’s not for money and honestly, he thinks he’s a little hurt that you assumed that, can feel the sting in his chest and the lump in his throat.

The smile you give him is cool, you tilt your head to the side and look at him. “Come on, Dazai, you don’t have to keep up with the act. You got close to me to get evidence for Ui, that’s obvious; probably realized it would be more worthwhile trying to get money from me to keep you quiet because they’ve barely got enough money to keep their shitty journalism house running. Honestly, I should probably just-”

“No,” Dazai forces out, interrupting you, lips parted and throat swollen—this is not going well. “That’s not-that’s not true. I didn’t get close to you to get evidence, I didn’t even know until the other day.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Dazai?” you ask, expression tight. “Because I’m not. As soon as you slipped up and said his name at the event, I realized. You think we don’t know everything that goes on in this city? About that shitty journalist group trying to expose us?” 

“I didn’t slip up,” Dazai says, voice more shrill than he intended it to be. His mind falls flat at every corner as he tries to figure out how to salvage this. “I didn’t slip up because I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It wasn’t-this wasn’t some grand scheme, I like you-” (he didn’t mean to say that) “I mean-it’s just-I don’t-”

Dazai feels flustered. He feels flustered and he’s stumbling over words in a way that he hasn’t in years, unable to get out a single coherent sentence because his mind is all over the place. Shit, he thought he was going to have to defend himself from having Katai stalk you so he could figure this out and find you; he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself because you thought everything from day one was some grand scheme to expose you as a mafioso.

You clearly don’t believe him from the way you roll your eyes and it makes Dazai’s distress spike exponentially. 

“Then pray tell, Dazai, why are you here? You’re here for something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here of all places to dangle over my head that you know who I am.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them.

“I wanted you to stop ignoring me,” he says, arms instinctively curling around his body as he stares at you, feeling more than a bit vulnerable at the blank look you give him in response to his words.

“You… want to make me stop ignoring you by… blackmailing me?”

“... Yes?”

The sigh you let out is long. Instead of responding, you take a drag of your cigarette, tilting your head back against the wall you’re leaning on to look up at the ceiling. Dazai stares at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for your response.

“What do you have on me?” you finally ask, taking a few steps forward to put the cigarette out on an ashtray before raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. “Well? I know you must have more than the location of this building.”

Dazai hesitates before he says, “Footage from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

Your expression doesn’t betray you as you press, “Footage of what?”

“You and the ginger with the ugly hat,” Dazai answers, trying not to smile at the way you clearly have to hide your amusement at his snide comment. 

“What are we doing in the footage?” you ask. “What makes it condemning?”

“… He splattered six guys against the wall.” 

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dazai. You saw that and still came here? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai gives you a weak smile “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, there are a lot of things wrong with me,” he tells you, echoing the words from your second meeting with him, hoping they make you lighten up.

They do.

He watches as you let out another breath, tense shoulders relaxing, suddenly looking a lot more tired as you look away from him.

“I missed you,” he adds quietly, fingers running along the hem of his sweater. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to kiss a guy like you did and then ghost him.”

“It was to keep you out of this life, Dazai,” you say tiredly. “I mean-shit, Dazai. I don’t know what you want me to do, I don’t even trust you right now, you could have a fucking wire on you for all I know and-”

“I could strip for you,” Dazai offers, lips curling up in a flirtatious smile as he flutters his lashes at you. “I’ll give you a show.”

You’re not amused.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Dazai. This is your life.”

“Well, my life has been one giant joke up until I met you so forgive me if I don’t care,” Dazai says, voice unintentionally rising in response to your words because who are you to decide on his behalf to cut him off because his life is in danger. That’s a decision for him to make. “You can’t just make those decisions for me.”

Dazai thinks he prefers the anger that crosses over your face to the tiredness and emptiness. His breath catches when he sees the way your jaw tightens and the way your eyes get fired up.

“It doesn’t just affect you, Dazai,” you hiss. “If you get pulled into this and something happens to you, that’s on me.”

Dazai’s heart jumps at the implications of your words, nails digging into his palms.

“And how does that affect you?” Dazai presses, the desperation that hangs off of his words so glaring that Dazai almost wants to curl in on himself. He wants to hear you say it, wants you to alleviate all of the thoughts threatening to consume him since you left his apartment that morning—wants to hear you say that you care, that he does mean something to you.

Your expression becomes closed off again as you realize what he wants you to say and Dazai swallows thickly, gaze searching your face for answers.

“You know how it affects me,” you finally respond as you look away. “You know, Dazai.”

It has nothing to do with what I want, you said at the event when he asked why you didn’t tell him why you didn’t want to be with him. The conflict on your face when you said things were too complicated to explain. The anger when you realized Professor Ui had purposely put him in danger trying to get evidence to condemn the Sun and Steel.

“I want you to say it,” he says hoarsely.

You don’t reply for a moment, watching him with an expression that’s impossible for him to decipher. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together tight, but the look in your eyes—there’s so much emotion in them that Dazai thinks he could get lost in them, it nearly leaves him breathless.

“You are actually the bane of my existence, Dazai Osamu,” you finally say, shoulders slumping as you look away again. Not exactly what he wanted to hear but he thinks that’s as good of an admission that he’s going to get right now.

“And the object of all of your desires?” Dazai prods with a teasing smile.

Your gaze cuts back toward him. “Did you just quote Bridgerton at me?” you ask, voice riddled with disbelief.

Embarrassed, Dazai flushes and then he hits you back with: “You watched Bridgerton?”

Instead of responding, seemingly equally embarrassed by the callout as Dazai is, you scowl at him and shake your head but your voice is lighter now when you speak—if only barely. “Honestly, Dazai, what did you think you were going to get out of this by coming here? I could have killed you. I should kill you. Coming to the headquarters of the Port Mafia to blackmail one of its executives with evidence threatening to expose them-”

“I didn’t threaten to expose you,” Dazai protests, prancing a bit more into your apartment. Now that he’s not as stressed, he can actually admire your apartment—apartment, is this even an apartment? He runs his fingers along the pristine black marble of the bar separating your kitchen from the living room, ignoring the way your eyes follow him. “I just…”

“You threatened to expose me,” you interrupt dryly. “You implied it.”

“I did not,” Dazai complains. “It’s not my fault you took it that way.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you thinking, Dazai?” you ask again.

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “I’m thinking that you’re going to take me out on a date.”

You don’t know why you’re even entertaining him.

Three days later, you’re outside Dazai’s apartment complex waiting for him to get back from his classes. You’d have gone to the campus itself but you don’t feel like having to beg Albatross or Iceman to get into the campus cameras to wipe the footage of you being there, especially knowing that it’ll get right back to Chuuya who is still under the belief that you’re no longer talking to Dazai.

You scowl as you look down at your phone, checking the time again. He should’ve been back ten minutes ago—you told him you were here waiting. Your reservation is in thirty minutes and he still has to change, you glance over your shoulder as a group of college students make their way toward the complex. You hardly stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you’d figured that the complex would be popular with the kids attending YNU—that’s why you ended up buying it—but you really don’t want to interact with any of them. 

You can feel them looking at you too—fuck, you should have just stayed in your car. From the corner of your eye, you can see them exchange curious looks with one another. One of the boys nudges another, clearly beckoning him to go try to talk to you and you will strength from the gods-

You hear your name fall from familiar lips, quiet and unsure, and the unpleasant expression that you know must be on your face melts away. You let your head fall to the side over your shoulder, gaze focusing on Dazai—he’s dressed casually in a brown sweater and cream pants, school books tucked to his chest and backpack hanging off of his shoulders. He looks surprised at the sight of you so you raise your eyebrows.

“You’re late, I texted you,” you say simply as he approaches you, glancing at the car and then to you curiously.

“My phone died,” he replies sheepishly, a bit of light returning to his eyes as he comes closer to you. Warmth starts to spread through your chest when you see how the corners of his lips twitch up, fingers absently thrumming against his books. “Where are we going?” 

“You’re getting changed,” you reply, nodding to the suit hanging in the passenger seat of he car, “and then-”

“Yo, Dazai-kun!”

Your eye twitches at the interruption, gaze twisting to the side to fall on one of the boys from that group you’d been dreading walking over before Dazai arrived. You notice him stiffen, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face when he hears his name being called. So, you sigh, motion for him to go into the car and grab the suit as you turn your attention to the group of approaching college students.

“We’re busy,” you say with a tight smile, tone short and perfunctory but trying to be polite. 

Your eyes sweep over the one who spoke up—he’s dressed nice, slacks and a button up, tailored neatly to his body, but there’s something so distasteful about him that you can’t help the way your lip curls up in disgust. Maybe it’s because of the way Dazai looks so uncomfortable.

The man looks entirely unperturbed by your blatant dismissal, giving you a charming smile. “I’m Yoshimura Hiro—me and Daz-”

Irritated, you glance one last time at Dazai, seeing that he got the suit out of the car and shut the door. You lock the car and without another word, press your hand against Dazai’s lower back to urge him forward, walking away from the small group without another word.

Dazai can hardly muffle the snort that escapes his lips as soon as the two of you make it into the building. His eyes have regained that brightness that they’d lost when his classmates approached you, a smile curving at his lips.

“That was so rude,” he says with a grin.

“We have a reservation to make,” you tell him dryly. “I said we were busy.”

“Still, you didn’t even wait for him to finish introducing himself.”

“Would you have preferred I had?” you ask, glancing at him as he unlocks his apartment, watching as his smile falters as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Dazai shrugs but he seems a bit more awkward now as you step into his apartment. He tosses his books onto the coffee table and shrugs his backpack off onto the couch. You lean against the wall as you wait for him to respond, noting that his apartment is much cleaner than the last time you were here.

“They don’t like me,” he corrects absently, fiddling with a mug on his coffee table before bringing it over to the kitchen. “Most people don’t.”

There’s a silent question lingering at the end of the sentence—you know it, even if you couldn’t tell from the way the words hang, you can see it in the way his eyes draw over to you. Maybe he wants reassurance of some kind that you do like him, that you’re not just doing this because of the blackmail, but the words die on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you say, “Go get changed. We’re running late already.”

Dazai looks disappointed by your words—you can see it in the way his shoulders slump and his lashes lower, the corner of his lips tightening—but he lets out a dramatic sigh, muttering something under his breath before going into his bathroom to change.

Luckily, it only takes him a few minutes to get changed into the suit. He comes out as he’s still buttoning up the waistcoat—jacket slung over his shoulder. Your eyes drop down to his slim waist, eyes lingering at how neatly the vest clings to it.

Kido really did a good job, you think, having to drag your eyes back up to his face as he finally shrugs the jacket on and looks back up at you.

“You look nice,” you compliment, watching as his cheeks flush just a shade darker. “I didn’t have time to change after my meeting. If I’d known you were going to be ten minutes late, I would’ve.” 

Dazai promptly scowls at you. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last second to tell me. What if I already had plans?” he complains, but then adds, “… I think you look beautiful.”

“I wear this outfit everyday,” you dismiss, ignoring the way your chest flutters.

“I know,” he admits quietly. “You look beautiful everyday.”

Oh.

“We should go!” Dazai says suddenly, a bit too loudly to be casual. “We’re running late, aren’t we?” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say. “Come on, let’s go.” 

The walk back to your car is quiet—the students you’d left there are gone, thank god. You can feel Dazai looking at you every few seconds as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. You have half a mind to just tell him to spit it out but you still find yourself a bit flustered so you just let it be until you’re in the car.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dazai finally asks as you pull out of the complex, twisting in the passenger seat to look at you. His eyes look almost golden beneath the rays of the sun, soft and excited, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers before you force yourself to focus on the road.

“You said you wanted to go to that restaurant by your campus, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side to raise your eyebrows before looking forward again. “Taking you there.”

“The rooftop restaurant looking over the park?” Dazai splutters, eyes widening. “You remembered that? It’s so expensive, I-”

You don’t even acknowledge the last thing he was saying. Instead, you give him a squinty look before asking, “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Dazai’s lips part as he stares at you like he’s trying to say something but can’t bring himself to. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, it makes your heart twist in on itself. It’s too intense, too close to lo-

You don’t even let yourself finish that sentence, focusing back on the road as you change the subject. “They import crabs from the Beagle Channel in southern Argentina—best quality in the world, much better than that canned shit you eat every day.”

“What do you have against canned crab?” Dazai complains, leaning his head against the window. “You hate me. How did you even get a reservation at this place? They’re booked out like ten months in advance, we talked three days ago.”

You give Dazai a heavy side eye that he understands instantly from how he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” you ask, giving him a pointed smile.

“Nothing,” he scowls.

You smile to yourself, focusing on driving again. The restaurant isn’t far from his complex so you get there pretty quickly. Dazai is quiet for most of the rest of the ride aside from the occasional comment about his classes. He bitches about his engineering class and all of the irritating freshman boys that he’s taking it with because it’s a 101 class, tells you vaguely about how he’s on a roll for one of his projects for his poetry workshop, explains the plot of the book he’s reading for his creative writing class, and he notably does not mention anything about his journalism class—you don’t know if it’s because he’s too awkward to bring it up or what, but you’re grateful for it because the last thing you want to do is think about him working with Ui Koutarou to expose you as a mafia executive. You still don’t even entirely believe this isn’t some whole big scheme they concocted together.

You let the car roll to a stop in front of the tower the restaurant is in, leaving it running as you put it in park and nod for Dazai to get out. You get out yourself, grabbing the keys and tossing them over to the valet with a quick thanks before leading Dazai into the building.

He looks almost wonderstruck as he steps into the tower, brown eyes wide and glittering as he looks at all of the expensive decor in the lobby of the tower. You have to physically guide him forward, arm slipping around his waist to get him moving in the direction of the elevator, but as soon as you come in contact with him, he goes rigid. Your brows furrow, about to pull your arm back but before you can, he presses his palm against the back of your hand, holding your arm in place for a quick second. You can’t help the smile that twitches to your lips when his arm drops back to his side and you catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks as he pointedly looks away.

You lead him into the elevator, catching the pout that pushes at his lips when your arm leaves his waist and you’re going to tease him for it but then you catch the oddly intense look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, throat bobbing as if considering what to say. “It’s just… no one has ever done this for me before.”

“It’s just dinner, Dazai,” you tell him, voice quiet as you look away, missing the way his expression drops at your words.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though he sounds strained now so you give him a concerned look that he tries to play off with a smile that’s too frayed at the edges for comfort. You’re about to call him out on it but you don’t get the chance because the elevator doors slide open to the restaurant on the top floor before you can.

A familiar face stands on the other side of the elevator, delighted at the sight of you. “Hime,” the owner of the restaurant greets as you step out of the elevator with Dazai, reaching out to clasp one of your hands with both of his. “I almost didn’t believe it when they said you called to see if we could get you a table tonight. It’s been so long.”

“Ah, Yoshida-san, you’ll have to forgive me,” you say with an easy smile. “You know how busy work can get.”

“Of course, of course,” Yoshida replies, glancing at Dazai and inclining his head to him. “This must be your date. Come, I’ll seat the two of you.”

Dazai looks a bit out of his depth, the smile on his face strained and an unsure look in his eyes so you reach out to hook your arm into his, leading him through the restaurant as you make idle talk with Yoshida. You’re pleased when he brings you to a table near the window with a view over the whole park and the distant bay. 

Yoshida bows his head down to the two of you and lets you get settled, you take a seat but then give Dazai an odd look when he just stands there with a contemplative expression. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he suddenly moves to grab the chair opposite you.

He drags the chair from his side of the table all the way to yours. The legs scrape the floor so loudly that it draws the attention of all of the other patrons of the restaurant. You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief, but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return. He’s entirely unperturbed, plopping the chair down right next to yours and taking a seat in it. He rests his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand and watching you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you tell him but there’s no heat to your words as the corners of your lips tug up.

“You love me anyway,” Dazai coos, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before settling back on your eyes.

When a soft, pleased smile spreads across Dazai’s face as he leans in to nudge his shoulder against yours, you have to actively remind yourself that you’re only doing this because of the blackmail. 

Dazai is already lounging on your couch when you get up to your apartment. You don’t seem to notice him—you’re clearly unhappy about something, lips twisted down and brows furrowed as you talk to someone on your phone. It’s not until Dazai peeks his head up above the back of the couch to look at you do you finally catch sight of the movement, eyes flickering to the side to focus on him.

“Thanks, Tolstoy, I’ll let you know if I need him. I appreciate it,” you say before letting the phone drop from your ear and ending the call. 

For a horrifying second, your expression doesn’t change and all of those insecurities that he can’t push away—that you really are only doing this because of the video, that he’s forcing himself on you instead of giving you an excuse to actually be with him that goes above the fears that are haunting you. But then, you sigh and your shoulders slump. You toss your jacket onto the other couch before sitting with him on the one he’s sitting on, knees knocking against his.

“Hi,” Dazai says with a small smile, itching to shift closer to you but hardly refraining. “You’re late today.”

“You’re early,” you reply dryly but there’s a fond curl to the corners of your lips that makes Dazai feel nice and warm. “You know, I think you’ve been at my apartment more than yours the past week.”

Dazai’s smile becomes simpering. “Why would I stay in my small, dirty apartment when I could stay in your nice one?” he asks, watching as you roll yours. “Anyway, you love it when I’m here. Your apartment would be so lonely and boring without me.”

“It would be something alright,” you agree half-heartedly, leaning your head against the back of the couch and letting your eyes slide shut.

Dazai’s smile falters as soon as your gaze leaves him, an uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling spreading through his chest. Is he being too much? He has been spending a lot of time at your apartment but it’s because whenever he’s alone, his own thoughts threaten to consume him. They whisper too loudly about how you’d never be doing this without the blackmail, about how he’s so desperate to not be alone that he’d stoop to forcing you to hang out with him. They’re quieter when he’s here, even when you’re not, so he’s been spending as much time as possible in your apartment, doing his schoolwork and watching TV while he waits for you to come back.

“Long day?” Dazai finally asks to draw himself out of his own thoughts, watching as you look back over at him.

“Mhm,” you agree, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Lots of meetings. All with people I don’t like.”

You’ve become a bit more open over the past week—you still don’t tell him anything of importance, of course, but you’re at least not avoiding just about every topic that edges somewhat close to your ‘business’. He still feels like he doesn’t know you as well as he should and he hasn’t tried to push that anymore since the night you showed up at his apartment. He wants to try to push again but he’s just worried that he’s going to take it too far and he’ll mess it up.

He supposes he should at least try to feel it out though.

“Can I ask something?” he asks after a moment, almost wincing when you immediately cast him a suspicious look.

“The last time you asked me that, you were trying to figure out if I was in the Mafia,” you say doubtfully and Dazai’s throat goes dry as you lean back against the arm of the couch and extend your legs outward onto his lap. Hesitantly, he drops his hand onto your ankle, grip becoming more firm when you don’t instantly pull away.

“Well, we’ve already figured that out,” Dazai says with a sweet smile but then lets the smile drop as he adds more seriously, “I just want to get to know you better.”

You sigh, watching him carefully for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead,” you say. “Ask.”

“What’s your ability?”

Instantly, you sigh and look away. Dazai’s heart drops and his lips part to say something else but he doesn’t know what.

“I can’t, Dazai,” you finally tell him and Dazai tries not to be disappointed but he can’t help the way his lashes lower. “It’s not-you shouldn’t even know I have an ability. Only a handful of people know. It’s literally the most confidential secret in the-I can’t.”

“But I already know you have one,” Dazai presses, his tone coming across as far too close to a whine considering the look you give him. “What’s the harm in telling me what it is?” 

“Dazai,” you say, voice becoming more edged. “You don’t understand what people would do to get intel on my ability—I’m not going to-”

“I just want to know you,” Dazai interrupts, words drawn out and throat tight. “I just-I want to know you.”

You stare at him for a moment and Dazai’s grip on your ankle tightens, expression dropping. Just as he’s about to drawback and give up, you sigh and look away from him.

“I can mess around with people’s minds,” you finally tell him, voice quiet. Dazai’s eyes widen, head snapping toward you as he waits for you to continue. “I can… induce different types of mental and physical states in the brain and mind.”

“Like… Emma Frost?” Dazai asks, squinting. You give him an odd look so he amends, “Like mind control?” 

“No,” you answer. “I can’t… control minds. I can like… induce short term changes in emotions and sensations. I’m not directly manipulating them but putting them into a state and letting them work with it. They can either snap themselves out of it or make it stronger.”

“... I see,” Dazai says slowly. “So, you can make someone happy but if something makes them sad after, it’ll snap them out of it?”

“Pretty much,” you hum but there’s a weird look on your face that tells Dazai that maybe you’re not saying everything. “Some emotions are easier than others. Happiness is more… fragile, harder to sustain in a target. Fear is much more… a lot like a parasite—once you put it in someone’s head, almost everyone will start to spiral. It’s much harder to break out of.”

“The mindkiller,” Dazai notes, quoting one of his favorite books, a bit of morbid curiosity spiking, wanting to know how he would fare.

You give him an amused look. “Now, you’re quoting Dune? Quite the broad taste in media.”

“You’ve read Dune, too?” Dazai gapes. “You must be my soulmate.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Ridiculously cute,” Dazai counters immediately, smile twitching at his lips when he sees the fond expression on your face.

Then, naturally, he makes a mistake. 

“Can you use it on me?” Dazai asks, leaning forward a bit. When you give him a sharp, alarmed look, he quickly fumbles out, “Not like anything big. I just want to see what it’s like. Just something sma-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” you say loudly, making Dazai draw back, hand falling from your ankle to rest on the couch next to him. You pull your legs off of his lap and sit up straight, turning your body away from him. “Just no, Dazai. Don’t ask me that again.”

“I didn’t mean-” Dazai starts to apologize but he’s flustered, not having expected a response like that from you. He fucked up. Again. Just as he was making progress. Again. “I don’t-”

“I can’t turn off my ability,” you tell him quietly after a moment. “It’s… always going to some extent. Making people around me more at ease so they feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t like using it to its full extent if I don’t have to, not on people I consider friends at least. I never know if people… I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.”

Oh.

Dazai shifts closer to you, there’s an unreadable expression on your face as you stare ahead. He hesitates for a second before reaching out and grabbing your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I want you for you,” Dazai stresses. When you start to shake your head and look away, he repeats, “I do. I-”

“You wouldn’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice tight. “That’s the issue, you wouldn’t know.”

“I would know,” Dazai tells you, squeezing your hand. “I would know, I want you. I do.”

You don’t respond to him this time, staring ahead and Dazai doesn’t know what to do because you look sad. You look lost in your own thoughts, consumed by whatever is running through your head. It’s familiar—the same way he probably looks whenever he lets the parasites in his brain start eating away, sending him down a dangerous spiral.

He wants to draw you out of it. 

More than that, he wants to kiss you again. Desperately. 

He’s yearned for it since that night in his apartment, spent long nights alone and aching for your company when he thought you were abroad. For days, he could feel his lips tingling with the ghost of yours still brushing against them, could feel the weight of your body on his hips, grounding him when he thought he would finally be consumed by the emptiness that perpetually plagues him. He thinks maybe he can draw you out in the same way you always do for him. 

He wants to kiss you, and he’s about to lean in to do just that, breath catching in the back of his throat as his body becomes prickly with nerves.

You turn your head away before he can, rising to your feet and making your way to your bedroom, leaving him damningly alone in the living room of your apartment. 

He lets out a shaky breath, staring down at his lap, a cold and unsure feeling taking root in his chest.

Dazai has become a constant presence in your life. 

At first, it caused you nothing but stress—you constantly feared that him showing up to your apartment would lead to unwelcome eyes learning of his existence but he’s been very careful entering and leaving the building, and Klaus has been on top of the cameras. You think it’s been around a week and a half, maybe two weeks since Dazai first confronted you about everything and in that week and a half (maybe two weeks), you don’t think a single day has gone by without you coming home to find Dazai curled up on your couch or hunched over your kitchen table.

Today is no different.

Your head is pounding when you make it up to your apartment, you’d spent two hours arguing with Chuuya over how to approach the issue with Shimazaki-kai. The Sun and Steel are struggling against them in Tokyo and Mishima Michiko had come to Yokohama personally to request assistance from the Port Mafia in routing them from Shibuya-ku. You don’t want to send Chuuya there—it’s only a matter of time before the Guild shows up in Yokohama to try to take the weretiger and you’ll need Chuuya here when they do. You can’t risk sending him off now.

But Chuuya wants to go there now—says that it’s a bad look that the Port Mafia started this conflict and is now leaving the Sun and Steel to suffer the consequences. And he’s right, but the Guild is more pressing than the Shimazaki-kai.

 It’s not often that the two of you disagree on tactical decisions, but when you do, the disagreements are stressful and explosive. Both of you are bullheaded and both of you are convinced that your decision is the correct one—and Lippmann wasn’t here to force you guys to settle down so it just became more and more heated until you finally stormed off.

You pause when you enter your apartment and hear a choppy tune being played on the piano in your living room—something you vaguely recognize as the beginning of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude even with the many mistakes being made. Your stress and frustration slips away as you catch sight of Dazai sitting at the piano bench, so focused on the sheet music in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your arrival.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you quietly make your way over to him, watching as he pauses in the song and sighs, clearly frustrated by his mistakes. You take the opportunity to slide your hand across his shoulder blades; he jumps beneath your touch, eyes widening as he twists his neck to look up at you, cheeks flushing. 

“I didn’t know you played,” you say absently. “If you want, I can have the spare room on this floor made into a music room for you.”

You don’t know why you offer it, but you enjoy the look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you: big and imploring, full of emotion. It’s a welcome change from the livid expression Chuuya had been casting your way for the past few hours.

“I don’t really,” Dazai says awkwardly. “I was just trying it out.”

“Well, do you like it?” you ask him, taking a seat on the bench next to him, fingers lingering on his lower back.

“I think so,” he tells you after a few moments, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the keys and then back up at you. “I think my mother used to play… I don’t really remember her, but I can vaguely remember a song she used to play.”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he averts his gaze and you squeeze his side gently before saying, “Maybe the more you play, the more it’ll come back to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees half-heartedly, looking at you again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?” 

You pause, not having expected him to catch onto your bad mood so quickly when you were doing your best to hide it, but you finally sigh and shake your head.

“Yeah,” you tell him, motioning for him to get up so the two of you can move over to the much more comfortable couch. “Stressful day. I thought you had class on Wednesdays.”

“It was online today,” Dazai says, propping his arms up on the back of the couch as he sits up. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until super late tonight.”

You scoff. “Yeah, until I got into a fight with Chuuya,” you mutter, making your way over to him to sit on the couch with him, looking at the puzzle he has spread out on your coffee table. “Where’d you get this?” 

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “You left your computer open yesterday, I ordered some things.”

Dazai inches closer to you, there’s an indecipherable expression on his face, lips parted and eyes a bit wide. You can feel his knee nudging yours and you know what he wants. He’s been trying to make subtle moves on you for days but you just… You don’t know. You’re scared.

You’re scared.

You don’t think you’ve felt this way since you were a kid, trapped in that room in the military base on Tokoyami Island desperately trying to understand what your ability was so you wouldn’t be thrown back out into a warzone. Except now, it’s not just your fate on the line—every decision you make, Dazai’s life hinges on it and you’ve been making stupid ones for weeks. Even now, letting him stay at your apartment… Even if you do own all of the cameras, even if Klaus is on top of it, even if Dazai is being careful, it’s only a matter of time before a mistake is made.

You don’t know what you’re still holding out for. Maybe a chance to make him understand what exactly is at stake, break things off with you on his own�� Maybe you’re waiting for something else. Your conversation with Tolstoy echoes through your head, his offer of sending Ilya Repin to you for you to utilize as you please.

Ilya Repin. A Crucession in Oakwood. 

Someone who can wipe Dazai’s memories of you so you can send him back off to live a normal life, make him forget he ever met you. It’s not something you want to do, fiddling with people’s minds… you know better than anyone that it’s not something to take lightly. But would it be worth it to ensure he lives? That he doesn’t get drawn any further into your shitshow life? The thought makes your chest ache painfully but if it means he would be safe.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away, and you can feel the disappointment emanating off of him, you can feel his fingers brushing your arm, but before you can say anything to him, you hear your elevator bing.

Someone arriving at your floor.

Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet, you cast Dazai a panicked look. He follows after you, unsure of what he should do. Klaus is across the city—he’s the only one that can come up to your apartment without permission besides-

Besides Chuuya.

Oh shit.

“Go to the kitchen,” you say, voice tight and stressed, you push Dazai forward to get him moving. You cannot let Chuuya know that Dazai is here. “Get to the-”

“Yo.” You hear Chuuya say, voice low and distracted as he steps into your apartment. He’s looking down at a bottle of wine, so you wave your hand at Dazai frantically, shooing him into the kitchen. He shoots you a panicked look before rushing into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to let shit get so heated before.”

“You’re good,” you tell him, careful to keep the strain from your voice as Chuuya finally looks up from the bottle and makes his way over to you. “Takes two, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at you.”

“Nah.” Chuuya shakes his head, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been going through shit. The Boss constantly on your ass, having to drop that kid you liked-” shit “-I should’ve let it go instead of pressing. Brought you this.”

Oh, you’re in a bad spot. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you race to figure out what to do. You have to get Chuuya out of your apartment, but the man knows you so well that it’ll be impossible to do that without raising suspicion. If this were any other day and Dazai Osamu wasn’t hiding in your kitchen, you would be trying to worm more than just a bottle of wine out of Chuuya—probably dinner and a night out to go along with it—but he’ll want to crack open the bottle before going out and your wine glasses are in your kitchen.

Shit.

“An ‘82 Rothschild,” you drawl. “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

Chuuya gives you a smile that makes you feel guilty. “‘Cause I feel like shit,” he mutters and you hardly refrain from wincing because you know he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.

You think you might be the worst person alive. 

“How about we put it in the wine fridge and head out for the night?” you hum, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t you want to try that new bar by the ports in Naka? The one Lippmann went to with his coworkers? We’ll save the wine for us to celebrate after we wipe out the Shimazaki-kai.” 

A good move. You almost pat yourself on the back for it—Chuuya’s been talking about this bar for weeks, but hasn’t gotten a break from work to actually go check it out. He was livid the other day when he found out Albatross and Iceman went without him. Plus, you implied that you’d give in a little on the argument you were having with him earlier; maybe you won’t send him to Tokyo to help the Sun and Steel but you could probably send Klaus or Akutagawa to ease Chuuya’s stress over the situation.

Please, please, please, please-

“Nah,” Chuuya says, shaking his head. “Maybe another night. I’ll go grab some glasses, find a movie?” 

Oh, fuck me.

“I’ll get them,” you say instead, too quickly from the way Chuuya is instantly casting a suspicious look in your direction so you pivot with: “I picked the last movie. It’s your turn.”

“You hate when I pick movies,” Chuuya says with a frown, studying you carefully before letting his eyes trail over to the kitchen. He’s thinking too hard, you realize, stressed, you need to make him stop before he figures out you don’t want him to go in there because once he realizes that, there’s no shot he won’t be rushing over there. “What’s really going on?” 

“Nothing,” you say easily. “I’m in the mood to trash one of your low budget horror movies.”

Chuuya instantly gives you an offended look and you think, for a moment, that you’ve succeeded. “Well, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch halfway through the movie, so pick a damn movie.”

Chuuya rises to his feet, putting the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and you want to rip your hair out—why is he so fucking stubborn? You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him, teeth grinding together, and when Chuuya looks back at you, you know that he knows.

“What’s in the kitchen?” Chuuya asks, voice low.

“None of your business,” you reply, jaw tight. “Sit down and let me get the glasses.”’

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Chuuya snaps and rips his wrist from your grasp and storms over to the kitchen. 

You race behind him, only able to watch as everything starts to crumble. You try to grab his wrist again but he slips out from your hold. For a scary second, you genuinely debate using your ability on him just to convince him to stop, to make him leave, but you disregard the thought as soon as it passes through your head, horrified with yourself.

“Chuuya, stop,” you say desperately, a last ditch attempt to make him stop, hoping that maybe when he hears how serious you are about this that he might reconsider, but it’s Chuuya, so of course he doesn’t.

You know it’s over when he freezes in the doorframe of your kitchen, staring into the room like he’s seen a ghost. Dreadfully, you come to stand at his side, looking over his shoulder to see what exactly he’s looking at, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Dazai sits on the floor, half hiding behind your counter but unable to fully because of his height; his legs are too long to fit behind the counter and his head is peeking above the marble, brown eyes wide as he looks between the two of you. He focuses his attention on Chuuya, who stares at him mutely in disbelief.

Dazai finally says, “Your hat is tackier in person.”

Oh my god.

Chuuya doesn’t even react to the snide comment which you think is testimony to how angry he really is. He drags his gaze from Dazai over to you and you can see the rage swimming in his eyes. You don’t know how to approach this—Chuuya is always unpredictable when he’s angry—so you think maybe you should wait for him to say something first, but that’s also risky because once he’s set off, he’s set off. 

“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice low. “I was sitting here feeling guilty and-”

“I didn’t lie to you,” you interrupt, shaking your head, but that only pisses Chuuya off more from the way he shoots a pointed look at Dazai. “I didn’t. I did cut him off, Chuuya. I-”

“He’s sitting on your kitchen floor,” Chuuya’s spits, voice raising as he works himself up. “You let me sit here feeling guilty about this when-”

Chuuya suddenly cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares at you, and a pit forms in your stomach, realizing he must have just come to another conclusion. Distress begins to pile in your chest because you can’t figure out what to do, frustration because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You want to look over to Dazai but you know it will only serve to piss Chuuya off even more.

“‘Is that what she told you?’” Chuuya whispers Mori’s words from a few weeks ago. “Don’t even tell me that the war with the Inagawa-kai began because of him. You told me they attacked you.”

You grimace, turning your face away and Chuuya lets out a high and reedy laugh, eyes wild with disbelief. You can feel Dazai’s curious eyes on you and you just want to curl in on yourself.

“We went to war with two Yakuza syndicates because of him-”

“We went to war because of what happened with your-” you begin to say, angry at the hypocrisy.

“And she died anyway,” Chuuya shouts, a familiar, eerie red glow beginning to emanate from his hands as he starts to lose control of his ability in his anger. “You couldn’t save her then, what makes you think you can save him now?”

You draw back as if you’d been slapped—you think you might’ve been better off getting slapped than hearing Chuuya say that. You stare at him blankly, watching as he looks over at Dazai, but you can’t bring yourself to follow his gaze.

“It would be more merciful if I just killed him now,” Chuuya says coolly. “Spare him from-”

You only move when he takes a step forward, grabbing his wrist and pressing your forearm hard against his upper chest to shove him into your fridge. Chuuya doesn’t expect you to get physical so his eyes widen as his back hits the fridge, gaze darting back to focus on you. The familiar feeling of the Tainted Sorrow sweeps over your body, coating you in that destructive red glow. 

For a moment, neither of you move.

“We both know you won’t use your ability on me,” you finally say, keeping your voice low. “I’ll fuck up your brain so badly that you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for weeks if you take another step toward him.”

Chuuya doesn’t budge for a second, the tension in the room rising with each passing second. After a few minutes, he finally turns off his ability, taking in a deep breath as he shakes his head and looks away. You step back and Chuuya sighs as he leans against the fridge, forcing himself to look back at you.

“I did cut him off after we talked… ish,” you tell him and Chuuya gives you a flat look. “I did. I ran into him at the ports. One of the kyodai of the Inagawa-kai showed up, saw me with him. Klaus killed him. We had to act before they found out we drew first blood.”

“Oh my god,” Chuuya complains, pressing his hands to his eyes. “You-I had to use Corruption. The entire northern ward-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say tightly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I-”

You let out a breath, glancing once at Dazai who’s watching you with an indecipherable expression and then ask Chuuya, “Can we go into the other room?”

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, an offended expression on his face, but you ignore him. “You’re talking about me-” he starts to protest but Chuuya gives him a sharp look that makes Dazai blanch even more, looking to you for support but you look away, missing the way his expression crumbles.

As soon as the two of you are in the other room, Chuuya gives you a hard look, waiting for you to continue.

“I cut him off after what happened at the port and I ran into him again at the event a few weeks ago,” you say quietly. “His professor for one of his classes is a journalist working for the Ivory Eagle, he has three kids—including Dazai—doing his dirty work trying to find proof of the Mori Corporation being a front for the Port Mafia.”

Chuuya stares at you. “What?” he asks blankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimace. “Dazai found the proof. He has a video of us from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

“You’re letting yourself be blackmailed by a college student?” Chuuya demands loudly. You give him a sharp look, but it’s too late, Dazai is already looking into the room with an indecipherable expression on his face, lashes lowering as his gaze falls to the ground. “You’re a fucking mafia executive, are you fucking with me right now?” 

Your eye twitches in frustration, casting one last look in Dazai’s direction, watching the way his brows furrow as he thinks up a storm in that head of his—nothing good, you’re sure, but you can’t do anything about it right now.

“I’m not going to kill him, Chuuya,” you hiss under your breath. “Would you have killed her if she found out?”

Chuuya lets out a heavy breath and looks away, not answering your question but that’s an answer in itself.

“Look,” you continue, glancing at where Dazai had been standing only to realize that he’d walked away. You sigh and lower your voice. “I’m working on something. I just… I need time to figure out how to go about it. I don’t want him in this life either, Chuuya. I’m not that selfish.”

Yes, you are, a distant part of you whispers. Otherwise, you would have handled this as soon as he came to your apartment that first day.

Chuuya shakes his head. “You need to be careful. You have him in our headquarters, in your apartment. Do you know how thin of a line you’re treading? The slightest slip up-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say, strained. “I know.”

“Figure it out quickly,” Chuuya murmurs. “I’ll do what I can in the meantime to keep the heat off of you. Just… quit fucking around.”

Chuuya gives you a steady look and you know that he knows that you’re using this as an excuse to indulge in Dazai when you shouldn’t be. You can hardly hold his gaze, lashes fluttering as you look down. He reaches out to squeeze your forearm and you turn your head away, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re going to say to Dazai.

“Yeah, I will.”

Dazai pretends like everything is fine.

He’s still sitting cross-legged on your bed when you finally come looking for him, hands in his lap and back straight. You lean against the doorframe, an uncharacteristically soft expression on your face as you look at him—Dazai hates it, because he knows that he’s not going to like whatever you’re about to bring up to him so he decides he needs to evade the conversation in whatever manner possible.

“Did that pipsqueak leave?” Dazai huffs, only finding a bit of consolation in the way your lips curl up into a smile at his insult.

“He did,” you agree, pushing off the doorframe to make your way over to him. Dazai swallows thickly when you take a seat in front of him on the bed. You lean back on your hands, head falling to the side as you observe him. “I didn’t think he was coming over today. We’d just gotten into an argument so things were already tense. I’m sorry that it blew up on you like that.”

Dazai doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead, he smiles and says, “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie?” 

Your brow furrows at the way he dismisses your comment—god, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows where it’s going to lead, he knows you’re only doing this because of the blackmail and he knew from day one that it wasn’t going to work forever but he’d hoped maybe he’d be able to woo you before then, make you want him for him, want him enough to decide he’s worth the risk. He should’ve known better—he really should have—but he’s not ready to let go just yet.

So, before you can bring it back up again, Dazai forces the smile on his face to come across a little more genuine as he tilts his head and hums, “I found a good horror movie. I’m stealing your pillow to hide behind while we watch.”

Please.

He knows you can see through the sweet smile and honeyed words but he begs you to just pretend you don’t one last time. After what feels like an eternity, you finally sigh, gaze dropping to your lap for a second before you look back up at him and say, “You’re not taking my pillow.”

Dazai doesn’t have to force a smile now, lighting up as he waves your pillow in the air and sings, “Too late!” before darting off the bed and into the other room.

“Dazai!” you call after him loudly and he tosses a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the other room. He can hear you chasing after him and though his chest does feel a bit lighter, he can’t push away the cold, empty feeling that’s slowly starting to consume him.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Two

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I hope the tags worked, I'm new to having a tag list!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I’m in love with Ruggie, so I accidentally made half of this chapter about him. Oops.

—----------------------------------

You decided that the best course of action would be watching from afar. The hyenas were afraid of you, the king of the lions didn’t like you, and the wolves were wary of you. All in all, not the greatest situation.

You didn’t know what you expected. Did you really think they would all love you from day one? They were half-animals, after all. They had the instincts of wild animals, not domesticated pets.

Still, you were determined to make them like you. The hyenas would probably be easiest, once they warmed up to you. The wolves would probably get used to you eventually. The lions- well, that was a tricky situation. They all followed Leona, so you’d have to win him over before you could win over the entire pride, and that would not be easy.

You grabbed your journal and pen from your locker and walked to the savannah exhibit’s door. This time, you had brought a water bottle with you, prepared for the upcoming heat you would have to face. You had also bought binoculars from one of the vendors, knowing you would need it if you were going to keep some space between you and the halflings.

You entered the exhibit, wincing at the heat that hit your skin. You scanned the dry land for the hyenas and found them lounging around the watering hole, talking amongst themselves. You stepped behind a large rock and leaned over it, raising your binoculars to your eyes.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they seemed to laugh a lot. You really wished you knew what they were saying, but if you approached them, they would probably stop their conversation and focus on getting away from you.

Day 1

HYENAS

There are seven hyenas and they all seem to be close to each other, as they stick together in a group. Their conversations seem to be humorous, as they are often laughing. This could be from their hyena half, as hyenas are known for their “laugh”.

Each of the halflings are easily differentiated by their hyena ears and tail. They all seem to be around 5’5, but even the tallest ones do not hit 6 feet. 

They are relaxed until a female approaches them. In this case, all seven hyenas are male, so the problem starts when a female keeper tries to feed them or study them up close. They suddenly become extremely wary or even frightened and are very hesitant to come anywhere near a female keeper.

The best way to calm them down, I believe, is to show them that you are not aggressive like female hyena halflings are. It doesn’t get rid of their fear, but it definitely helps.

You peered through your binoculars and watched the six hyenas as they drank from the watering hole- most of them scooping water into their palms and drinking from their hands, while others put their head down to drink directly from the source.

Wait- six hyenas? Weren’t there seven?

You felt a hot breath on the back of your neck and you spun around, heartbeat skyrocketing. There, standing behind you, was the hyena halfling you had talked a little bit with when you were handing out breakfast.

He retreated to a safe distance and sat down, cross-legged, studying you curiously, a slight smile on his face as though he was proud that he had frightened you. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the claws on his fingers and the unnaturally sharp canines that shone in the sunlight when he flashed you a lazy smile.

“Shishishi,” he giggled, eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

“You scared me, Ruggie!” you said, your heartbeat starting to go back to its normal pace.

His grin only widened. You noticed his eyes flickering from you to your notebook.

“Oh! Are you interested in my notebook?” you asked, holding it out to him.

Ruggie frowned, looking a little offended, “I can’t read.”

Oh. You felt your cheeks growing warm. Of course a halfling, who had spent his life in the wild and then captivity, wouldn’t know how to read. It was a miracle that any of them had picked up enough English to be able to speak it.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” you asked.

Ruggie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head at you. Finally, he shook his head. A little disappointed, you closed your notebook. “That’s alright. Did you want to talk?”

Ruggie shook his head once more and you felt yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure why he was still here if he wasn’t interested in talking. One of the other hyenas made a whooping sound and Ruggie responded with his own hyena noises, turning his attention to the other hyenas for a moment before he turned back to you.

You decided to try to get him to speak to you, “So, did you enjoy breakfast? You had three servings, after all.”

Finally, Ruggie nodded then, as an afterthought, added, “I like donuts better.”

“Donuts?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Would you like it if I brought some?”

Ruggie’s eyes widened, “Donuts?”

“Yeah!” you said happily, “My boss said I could bring you guys anything, as long as I paid for it with my own money.”

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky, “Donuts!”

Ruggie called back to his friends with a series of whoops and other hyena noises and they responded back enthusiastically. You wished you could understand their language.

You turned back to your notebook.

It seems like hyena halflings like sweets or, at least this group likes donuts. One of them, the one named Ruggie, seems like he has warmed up to me a little. We talked a little, mostly about donuts, but I feel like he isn’t as scared of me as the others are.

Ruggie seemed to have had enough, because he stood up and, with a curious glance back at you, he ran off to join the others, kneeling by the watering hole to drink along with his peers.

You were a little disappointed by how short the conversation had lasted, but more than anything, you were excited that you had a conversation with a hyena halfling at all. Ruggie still seemed a little wary of you, but much more comfortable with your presence than earlier.

It was a step in the right direction.

You were not looking forward to seeing Leona, but you were already in the savannah exhibit and the lions weren’t too far off. The pride’s positions were the same as this morning’s, with Leona lounging on the large rock while the other lions sat and laid on the grass beneath him. The lions were either napping, grooming their hair, or just talking quietly amongst themselves.

The lions were not frightened by you and why would they be? They had a killer bite and claws on each hand. They regarded you lazily, as if you bored them a little.

“Hello, everyone!” you did your best to not sound as terrified as you felt. None of the lions stopped what they were doing for you, continuing their actions as if you weren’t even there.

You hadn’t even noticed at first that Leona was awake, until you glanced at the rock, hoping to get a reaction from him. 

He sat up on the rock, staring at you with an impassive expression. Despite his lack of a warm welcome, your heart soared. This was your chance!

“Hi there!” you said cheerfully.

He looked down his nose at you, clearly not impressed by your greeting.

“Did you have a good nap?” you asked.

Leona continued to stare at you, unimpressed with your attempts at earning his attention.

“So, I know your name is Leona, but would you like to know mine?” you asked hopefully.

Leona’s eyes turned to the right, as though he was making a decision. Finally, he spoke in that slow, rumbling voice of his, “Whatever, I don’t care. Go ahead”

You smiled up at him, pleased that you had gotten his permission, even though he wasn’t as interested as you had hoped, “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Leona laid back down but didn’t close his eyes, watching you as you looked back at him.

“Did you eat your steak? I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Leona’s eyes widened a little, as though you had taken him by surprise. And maybe you had.

His gaze evaded yours as he responded to your question, “Yes, I ate it.”

“Oh good!” you smiled happily up at him.

Leona studied you closely, clearly unable to read you. Leona tilted his head and turned away from you, “Is that all you need?”

“I’ll write in my notebook, if you’d prefer me to do that.”

Leona grunted in response and closed his eyes.

DAY 1

LIONS

The lion halflings are not shy like the hyenas, but they are hesitant to talk to me. I feel as though, if I earn their king’s acceptance, I will be able to talk to them all. The king has started to talk to me, even if it was only a few words.

The lions are taller than the hyenas, most around 6 feet tall. They are easily differentiated by their lion ears and tail. There are 19 lions, with most being female, and only one cub.

Unsurprisingly, the lion halflings spend a good chunk of their time sleeping. I assume this is from the lion part of them.

“Did you want to read what I wrote?” you asked, sensing Leona’s eyes on you. Your eyes met his and he held your gaze for a few moments before growling, “I’m going to sleep.”

He flopped back down on the rock and closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming rhythmic almost right away.

You didn’t want to bother Leona when he was trying to fall asleep, so you sneaked away, sending an unrequited wave over your shoulder to the other lions. Maybe if you weren’t so determined to get out of the heat, you would have noticed the eyes boring into the back of your head.

The walk to the wolves’ exhibit was a long one. After all, you had to cross half the savannah before making it out into the back hallway meant for staff. Then, you had to push through the crowds to get to the wolf exhibit. At least the crowds weren’t too bad, since evening was on its way.

You were excited that the sun was falling. You’d be able to watch wolf halflings at their preferred time of day. After all, wolves hunted in the twilight hours.

You hoped that didn’t mean they’d see you as prey.

The exhibit door opened easily and you found yourself breathing the air in deeply. It took you a moment to discover just why you liked the wolves’ enclosure so much. Mountain air. Somehow, some way, the zoo had made the enclosure smell like the mountains. The air was even a little thinner here than it was on the pathways.

These wolf halflings must have been living in the mountains when they were brought to the zoo. The thought made your heart hurt a little. Were they offered a deal to live in captivity or were they captured and brought here by force? You didn’t like to think about it too much.

This wasn’t your battle to fight.

The keeper who fed the wolves their evening meal walked past you with full buckets. As she passed you, she gave you a word of advice, “You aren’t gonna find them all together like they are at mealtimes. They all split up, especially in the evening.”

You nodded, a little disappointed. That could make it harder to find them, much less study them. Plus, it’s not like you could look in several directions at once. This might be a little more complicated than you thought.

Or maybe it’ll be fine, you reassured yourself, trying to stay positive.

You reached a steep, downward slope and decided it was probably the best vantage point you would find. You found a nice place to sit down between a cluster of rocks and took out your binoculars. 

It took almost half an hour for you to see any movement. Down, at the base of the hill, one wolf halfling walked close to the barrier between the wolves and guests. He had his back hunched in a sort of prowl, and you realized that he was probably in hunt mode. 

Excited, you pulled out your notebook to make some notes.

Your pen froze above the paper when you heard a growl.

You slowly turned your head, and what you saw made your blood run cold. A buff wolf halfling with dark gray hair and pin-pricked ears had his lips drawn over his fangs in a snarl. He was growling so ferociously that flecks of spit flew in your direction. His yellow eyes dilated as he grew closer, back hunched as though he were ready to lunge for your throat at any moment. 

You gulped, forcing yourself to stay completely still. You were afraid, if you moved, you’d have your throat torn out before you could blink.

The wolf took one step closer, growled one last time, then lunged.

The halfling seemed to stop midair and, before you knew it, he was lying on his side in the dirt a few feet away. The cause of his sudden stop was made clear after a few terrified moments, when your eyes turned upwards.

The white-haired wolf halfling stood with his shoulder still out in front of him. You realized that he had shoulder-checked the older wolf during his attack. Shakily you smiled at him.

“Thank you so much!”

The dark-skinned halfling took a seat on one of the rocks surrounding you. You studied his features, everything from his white tail to his white ear tips. He, on the other hand, watched the older wolf warily.

The older wolf pushed himself to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes. His yellow eyes glared at you, but he limped off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the trees. 

The white-haired halfling turned his attention back to you. You decided to offer your friendship to him.

“My name is (Y/n), what’s yours?”

He stared at you for a moment, before his rumbling voice said, “Jack.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jack,” you said, trying not to come across as too excited to be talking to him. You didn’t want to scare him away with your eagerness.

Jack continued to stare, his golden stare softening a little when he said, “Not safe.”

He didn’t seem to have a very good grasp on the English language, but that was understandable. It didn’t seem like the wolves were all too friendly toward humans.

“I have to stay,” you explained to Jack, hoping he would understand.

“Not safe,” Jack replied. He got up from his sitting position and crossed the distance between you in less than a second. You watched, trembling, as his one of his clawed hands took hold of the back of your shirt collar. 

You blinked owlishly as Jack began to carry you by the collar, stunned by his behavior and not wanting to tick him off by fighting. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to want to actually hurt you, but you didn’t want to push your luck.

After a long walk, Jack set you back down on your feet. He pointed one clawed finger behind you. “Not safe.”

You turned around and, to your surprise, you were met with the exhibit door. Comprehension dawned on you. He wanted to keep you safe.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you soothed, “I have to study-”

“Not safe,” Jack responded, voice even gruffer.

You tried to come up with the perfect solution. You had to soothe Jack but you also had to do your job.

“Well, you could protect me,” you suggested.

“Pro-tect?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, keep me safe,” you replied. Jack took a while to think that one over. Finally, he nodded.

He followed you back to your spot like an obedient puppy, but refused to sit down, choosing instead to hover over you, eyes darting in all directions.

Day 1

WOLVES

Wolf halflings tend to be around 6 feet tall, distinguishable by their wolf ears and tails. There are 12 of them in this zoo, with 6 females and males each. 

Some of the wolf halflings are very aggressive, and this seems to amplify in the evening hours, possibly because these are their hunting hours. One wolf, however, acts in a protective manner towards me.

It is interesting to note the wolf halflings appear to be in hunting mode despite just being fed.

All of the halflings, save for one, have hair and fur in different shades of gray, while one has white hair and fur.

You didn’t see any other wolves for the next few hours and you eventually decided it was time to go home. Jack shadowed you on your way to the exhibit entrance. You waved goodbye, and he mimicked the action awkwardly.

Laughing a little, you went home for the day.

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x F!Reader | Chapter Seven

[Masterlist]

Summary: Things are getting dicey, and only seem to get worse when you are sent out with the person that seems to like you the least.

Warnings: gun violence, mentions of suicide, mentions of sexual acts, blood, mentions of murder, not so healthy dynamics, non-sexual name calling, not beta read (of course, let me know if i happen to miss any <3)

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: I'M BACK AND LOVING BEG AND BARGAIN AGAIN. I do apologize for taking the break, but I feel better now. It was much needed. Things are getting exciting!!! No smut this chapter, but there may will be more soon 😈 divider credit to @sister-lucifer

You are sitting at the table; the last 24 hours have been awkward to say the least. Brian is tense, Toby seems ready to fucking murder you, and Tim is probably the happiest of the bunch. You had been able to do your own thing though. No one had really bothered you since Tim found you in the bathroom.

You are eating a frozen meal, supposedly it’s a Salisbury steak… You aren’t too sure though. But really? At this point you don’t care.

“D-Don’t you go back to w-work soon?” Toby sits in front of you.

Immediately, you tense. Your eyes widen momentarily, before you hide your fear. Toby seems to have caught it though. You snarl your lip up at him, and click your tongue, “What about it?” You grumble at him.

“W-well, what are you gonna do?” He is nosy. He seems curious, but not in a concerned way. More of a snotty kind of way.

Your eyes roll back and you groan, “Toby…” You inhale. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure a-are bratty.” Toby snarls back. “Tim needs to handle that.”

The most disgusting, guttural noise you can muster slips from your throat and a loud laugh follows. You shake your head. You may fear Toby, but you do not need to be put in any place. You almost fall backwards, out of your chair. It's so comical. “Tim?” You almost shout. “Shut the fu-”

Toby’s knuckles are suddenly white, nails digging into his palms. You do not finish your sentence. You swallow hard. “Say it.” Toby’s breath is shaky. “Fi-finish your fucking sentence.” His voice is dangerously low. You inhale sharply and shake your head ‘no’. “What were you g-going to say?” He is fuming. He obviously does not want to shut the fuck up. “Were you- Were you going to make me shut up?” He cocks his head at you.

“No.” Your head drops. Your eyes are cutting up at him through your lashes. You can’t help but be so scared. “But-” You exhale heavily, “I can do that.” It’s like you just remembered you can control him. But with consequences… Toby seems excited when you say this. “I won’t though.” Your voice is soft. “I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. Especially because you still haven’t returned my panties.” You finish your little frozen meal.

Toby looks like he wants to launch the table. “That w-wasn’t me!” He almost screams it at you, leaning across the table. You flinch back. “Why the fuck would I lie about it? I bet it was Brian!” The front door opens. Brian and Tim walk in. “What was Brian?” He cocks his head.

“You took her panties!” Toby is yelling now. You are startled. Brian and Tim seem used to it. “Sh-she thinks I took them, but- but it wasn’t m-me!” Toby is furious. He is standing up now. You feel so small sitting across from him.

“Fine!” You snap, “It wasn’t you! You didn’t fucking do it!” Your voice is strained.

Toby storms off, Tim stops him. His hand hits Toby’s chest and he pushes him back into the living room. The look in Toby’s eyes is absolutely feral. “This is my house! Do not-”

“Shut up.” Brian rolls his eyes. “We need to talk to her.” He points at you. “And ‘we’ includes you.”

Your stomach drops. Tim and Brian walk into the kitchen and sit down at the table. Toby stands a little ways away, in the living room. Fuming. “What’s going on?” You cock your head. Are they finally going to kill me? Am I still useful? You think to yourself. You are sure all color has drained from your face. You want to puke.

“You are supposed to go back to work soon-” Tim starts.

Toby interrupts. “I a-already asked ab-”

“I quit.” You interrupt Toby. Your eyes are on Tim, and Tim alone. You bite the inside of your lip. All of them seem confused. So much so that they all ask you ‘what’ in unison. Toby seems the most frustrated.

“Oh!” He throws his hands in the air. “I s-see! Tim is just s-so fucking good-”

“Toby!” You yell at him without thinking. “What the fuck?”

“I mean,” He scoffs, “yesterday y-you were in his room naked, and now y-you quit your job?” He shakes his head. “What the fu-fuck did you do to her?” Toby is looking at Tim now.

You swallow hard. Your eyes are stuck on Tim. Waiting for his answer. He seems smug. You are praying he doesn’t say something stupid. “Tim-” You whisper at him. “Don’t.” You do not want him to push Toby any further.

“Why’d you quit?” Toby looks back at you. His eyes are dark.

“I had to.” You are baffled. “I can’t work in these conditions!” You want to flail around. “Are you aware of my- our circumstances?”

“Very.” Toby’s voice is low, lethal, full of venom.

You don’t say anything else. You are sitting straight up in your seat, hair standing on end, and eyes wide with fear again. Toby leaves. He stomps to his room and slams his door. Your stomach turns.You let out a nervous laugh, “That guy, huh?” You give an awkward smile to Tim and Brian. “He sure is-” You swallow hard, “-something.”

“Oh, by the way,” Brian smirks at you, “you’re going out with him later.”

Tim immediately shoves his friend. Your stomach leaps into your throat. “What? When? Why?” You ask, full of fear and anger.

“Well, we don’t need you fucking around if you go out with Tim. And Toby’s good at these kinds of missions…”

“What kinds of missions…?” You cock your head.

“The killing kind.”

You are tired. Truly. Exhaustion is catching up to you quickly and you have no way to even rest right now. You have trekked through the woods towards your destination. And to be honest, that could be anywhere. You might as well be walking towards your death. You spot a cabin ahead and figure that's your stop. It's a bit bigger than Toby’s cabin and there is a singular light on. The upstairs light.

You look towards Toby, who is not stopping for anything. “Psst,” you stop walking. “Where are we?” You really have no clue.

Toby grunts and turns towards you. “Wh-who’s the bastard that wants you dead?” He sounds so… done with you. You should obviously know whose house you are at.

Your blood runs cold. “Ethan…?” You ask. You now know, but it still comes out like a question. Toby rolls his eyes and keeps walking towards the cabin. You are stuck briefly. Toby has a way to hide his identity. You do not. Your stomach turns. You quickly creep behind Toby and stay as close as possible to him; as much as you are not sure you want to do that. “How do we do this?” You whisper.

“Follow m-me.” It’s all Toby gives you.

He approaches the door, slowly. And then does the opposite of what you think he’s going to do. Toby’s foot slams into the old wood and the door flings open. Every single light on the bottom floor is off. Toby yanks you into the house and you cover your mouth, keeping in a yelp. It's impossible to see where Toby is moving, but you hear his footsteps; you try to stay close by. Toby grabs your arm and begins to guide you --albeit roughly-- up the steps. There is a light coming out from under a closed door.

Toby does not let you go. As you both near the door your anxiety is rising. You are growing antsy and, more importantly, terrified. Toby briefly releases you and slams into the door. It easily opens, almost falling off of its hinges. Toby steps into the room, you hot on his trail. The lights may be on, but the room is completely empty.

The chair in the corner of the room seems to have been sat in recently, someone is nearby. Ethan is nearby. You swallow hard and look at the back of Toby’s head, waiting for his next move. The hair on the back of your neck begins to stand on end. You begin to turn around and something slams into your head, hard. You stumble forward and slam into Toby, the both of you are sent flying to the ground. You let out a whimper and cry out for help. Cry out for Toby.

He is quick to get back on his feet. You, however, are stunned. You look up and find Toby standing between you and Ethan. His hatchets are now out and he is pissed. He snarls under his muzzle and swings at Ethan. The man dodges and trips Toby, easily moving around him and towards you. Toby hits the ground, his head slamming into the wood floor.

“Come on bitch,” Ethan hisses, “aren’t you gonna control me?”

Your face contorts. You shake your head violently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He pulls a gun off of his hip and brings it to your forehead. “Tell me, cunt, how did John die?” You are stuck. Memories of John the night you had him killed come flooding in. Tears prick your eyes and you hold back a sob. Your eyes are laser focused on Ethan, so much so, you don’t see Toby standing up behind him. “Did you mind control him? Did you force him to put that gun to his head?” Ethan’s voice is steadily rising. “Because I fucking know he did not do that on his own accord!” He screams, spit flying. Toby raises a hatchet. “Do not! I will fucking shoot her!” Ethan pushes the gun harder against your forehead. Toby freezes.

“Please,” You are begging. “I don’t know-” Your eyes screw shut. You shakily inhale and Toby tenses. He needs you to tell that man to back the fuck up. Your eyes open and you begin to speak. “Put your gun down.”

Ethan blinks at you. His hand twitches. Your stomach sinks. It did not work. Ethan laughs; he laughs so hard you are shaken up once more. Tears threaten to spill once again. It did not work. Why did it not work? It’s all you can think as you sit there, about to be fucking murdered. Your eyes shoot to Toby, who seems to be just as baffled.

“Oh,” Ethan smiles, a wickedness you have not seen before takes over him. “This is good. This is really fucking good.” He laughs again. He seems to be breaking. “I’ll handle you in a minute, I have to take care of your little boyfriend first… You sure did move on so quickly!” Ethan directs his attention to Toby, who is most definitely ready to fight. His movements are swift, the gun moving from your forehead to Toby’s direction in milliseconds.

Without thinking, you move and fast. “No!” You scream, pushing yourself up and slamming into Ethan. Your hand grabs his arm, moving the gun upwards. As it goes off, the bullet goes through the ceiling.

“You dumb fucking-” Ethan does not finish his sentence. He whips around as fast as possible, the gun slams into your face, and you fall back down. Your head hits the ground, again. As you are slipping in and out of consciousness, you feel a boot press to the side of your head. Before there is any more pressure placed onto your cheek, the boot is gone. You feel warmth covering your face, but that’s all you can process as you try to stay awake.

You let out a soft sigh and quickly let go. You don’t try anymore. You let yourself go into the darkness.

The sound of birds chirping brings you back to reality. With your eyes closed, you take in your surroundings. You are most definitely on the couch at Toby’s cabin. Your face aches and your head is pounding. You let out a cry and your eyes shut a little tighter. The floorboards creak a bit aways from the couch, footsteps near you.

“Careful.” A voice you do not recognize begins to speak. “You may have a concussion.”

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit up, a little too quickly. You are face to face with a woman. A woman you most definitely do not know. You look around the room, finding no one else, and then back at her. Her dark hair frames her face, her eyes look almost emotionless. Yet, she’s staring at you with an intensity you do not like.

“Who the fuck are you…?” You feel fear. She snorts. She really thinks this is so funny. “I’m not fucking joking, I will make you-”

“Not in this state, you won’t.” She deadpans. “Anyway,” Her head drops to the side, ever so slightly, “I don’t think you’d be okay with the consequences of compelling me right now…”

“Okay… Well, why the hell are you here?”

“This used to be where I slept, before you got here.”

Chills run up your spine. There’s more than just Toby, Brian, and Tim? “Sorry.” That is the only thing you manage to get out. A stupid apology. She rolls her eyes at you. You shift, pulling your legs up to your chest, and you hold on tightly. You can tell the woman finds that weak, you do not care. Not at the moment.

The door of the cabin opens. Brian and Tim walk into the room, some grocery bags in hand. Tim looks at you and the woman and he narrows his eyes. “Kate… I hope you’re being nice.”

“She’s being nice.” You nod at him. Nice enough… You give Tim a soft smile. “Can I ask what happened last night? Is Toby okay?”

Kate is the first to answer you. “After you were knocked unconscious, Toby brought you back here-”

“Is Ethan- Did he-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Kate starts again. “Ethan is alive. If you had not been so reckless he may be dead now-”

“Reckless!?” You snap. “I couldn’t fucking compel him, and he was about to shoot Toby!”

“Do not interrupt me!” Kate snaps back. You immediately lean back, hitting the arm of the couch. “Toby picked saving your ass over killing Ethan. He let Ethan get away to make sure you were safe!” Kate stands up, hands falling from her hoodie pocket. You tense. Everyone is tense. You watch Kate in horror. “Things have shifted since you arrived.” Kate snarls, lowering herself to your level. “For some reason these men just adore you… If that had been me in that fucking house-”

“Wh-what would you have d-done?” Toby enters the room. Your eyes dart towards him.

Kate backs up from you and lets out a frustrated noise. She exits the house abruptly and you look at the men. You let out a nervous laugh and then sigh awkwardly. You look at Toby and mess with the hem of your shirt, placing your feet on the floor.

“Uh, thank you…” You mumble the words.

“What?” Toby cocks a brow at you.

You groan. “Thank you!”

“For what?” He wants you to explicitly tell him why you are thankful.

You want to combust. “For saving me.” You stand up. “You could have easily just- not saved me! But you did. I fucked up, being reckless, or whatever…” You roll your eyes. “But I'm alive at least.” You inhale sharply through your mouth, your nose hurting too badly to breathe through it, “I don’t know what’s really going on in that head of yours,” you narrow your eyes briefly, “or what your feelings are towards me; we all have a lot going on! If you want-” You pause momentarily, causing Toby to tense. “If you want, we can start a new, clean slate…” You wait for his answer. You feel like you are going to die when he just continues to stare. Your face contorts. “We don’t have to actually,” You cross your arms, “We can stay the exact same and I will hold everything you’ve ever done against you forever-”

Toby laughs. “I j-just saved your life, and all y-you’re offering is a clean s-slate?” He is acting as if it’s the most comical thing he’s ever heard.

“I don't owe you anything, actually! But I’m thankful.” You take a step closer to him, feeling a bit braver, knowing he saved your life makes you feel like he does not want to take it. “What do you think you deserve?”

Toby shakes his head. “You-You’ll revoke the cl-clean slate.”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, really, don’t tell me.” You put a hand up and nod.

“Do I get a clean slate?” Brian asks from behind you.

“N-no! You did-didn’t save her life. You just- just recorded her. Fu-fucking creep.” Toby is standing beside you suddenly.

You genuinely cannot tell if Toby is playing around or not. “Toby,” You gently place a hand on his arm, without thinking about it. Toby does not relax; in fact, he grows more tense. “I’m feeling generous. I mean, I did not die. That’s a plus! And, uh, you guys are kind of all I have right now, I don’t want there to be tension in the house…”

“Wow,” Toby smirks at you. He’s about to say something diabolical, “Me- Me saving your life and the h-head you got from Tim really has you f-feeling generous, huh?”

Your hand drops from Toby’s arm. You snap your head towards him and stare, mouth agape. You quickly look at Tim and narrow your eyes. “You fucking told him?”

Tim looks at Brian, mimicking your shock. “You fucking told him?”

Brian laughs, hard and loud. “I mean, yeah. We all kind of live together… It was bound to get out.” He has a point.

You are still upset though. “God, at this rate, Kate knows!” Toby nods at you. You stomp your foot in frustration. “I wish I had a room!” You want to hide.

“Just go to Tim’s.”

Your jaw clenches. “Shut up! I’m trying to start over with your three!” Your fists ball up. “You guys do not make anything easy…”

For a brief moment, it’s normal. As normal as it has been. The four of you are standing in the living room, not fighting, the guys are laughing. Maybe at your expense, but nothing is going wrong. And most importantly, you are alive.

You try to ignore the fact it will not be like this forever.

[smutinlove]

↳ CARL GRIMES MASTERLIST

—dedicated to the whores of alexandria and the walking dead.

special mentions: @hiro--aoki @carlsdarling @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @jas2010 (im mentally ill and these are my pookies)

rules for requesting

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Smut —Carl gets jealous when Ron tries to hit on you

Smut—Carl gets rough

Smut—Slutty slut

Smut-Dinner with Grimes—You and Carl decided to host dinner at your place. But you wanted to tease Carl, so you wore an extremely short dress.

Smut—Begging

Smut—Just sex

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suggestive—Eyes apparently don't lie

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Fluff—Reader writes a love letter/appreciation letter

Fluff-Cabin—Carl Grimes asks to marry you

Fluff—CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

Fluff—NEW YEAR SPECIAL (2024)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Angst—Carl, Rick, and Glenn notice that the reader hasn't been eating/sleeping. They force an intervention.

Angst—Reader cries about Carl's death

Angst—Reader dies. Carl cries. (Lineup)

Angst—Reader hurts herself. Carl comforts her.

Angst —Carl comforts an insecure reader. SH WARNING

Angst leading to fluff—Carl goes on a scavenging trip but gets lost. The reader goes to look for him.

Angst—After Negan kills readers father figure, Glenn Rhee, she and Carl start to fight a lot. One day, after an intense fight, Negan suddenly arrives to Alexandria. He manipulates the reader to Carl.

Angst/fluff—Dad figure Glenn. Carl hangs out with Enid a lot, making the reader jealous. !argument

Angst/fluff—Shy/sensitive reader. Carl and reader fight because she sneaks out and Rick scolds Carl, making him apologize.

Angst/fluff—Dad figure Glenn. Reader runs away because she hates Enid and her father figure adopted her. Carl finds her.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Small Series

You were my light part 1 —The daughter of the now dead Negan Smith is walking in the woods. She thought she was alone. But she wasn't.

You were my light part 2

You were my light part 3

You were my light part 4

You were my light part 5

You were my light ALTERNATIVE ENDING—The daughter of Negan Smith wakes up from what she thought was real but was a dream. She wants to find him. Y/N Smith wants to find Carl Grimes.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

WORDS BURN HARD: CARL GRIMES X FEM!OC

Chapter One: The Woods

Chapter Two: Undetected

Chapter Three: Solitude

Chapter Four: a secret

Chapter Five: I watch as you're leaving

Chapter Six: Meddlsome

Chapter Seven: The Journal

Chapter Eight: A caged boy

Chapter Nine: Lavenders

Chapter Ten: Little Blue light

Chapter Eleven: Shopping and Paranoia

Chapter Twelve: The Start of Shame

Chapter Thirteen: War of Shame

Chapter Fourteen: Linked Destiny

Chapter Fifteen: Resurrection

Chapter Sixteen: coming soon

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 8 ✿:+ : Bad Poetry

Prev Chapter | Chapter Index

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, Proposal, NSFW themes, mention of non-con, misogyny, mention of violence, mention of arranged marriages, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of NSFW themes, mention of parental death.

Word Count: 5.7k

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

After you and Podrick’s heated reunion in the snow behind the walls of Castle Black, you and Podrick attempt to resume your duties as normal. He attended his training, and you continued to pester the old Maester. 

However you came together again in your chambers that night. Now that you were near, Podrick would waste no time. Any moment he had he gave it to you. So naturally he and you coupled again. But that night he told you of what happened in the RiverLands. The dead black fish you saw in your dream was not only a black fish but the BlackFish, Brynden Tully. And that was not the end of your dreams.

That night, you dreamt of an old friend. Margaery. You thought of her long hair, the pale auburn of her hair. Only in your dream, she looked far different than how you remembered. Her hair was uncurled, her clothes were modest and dull, and her crown hung heavy at the top of her head. Her smile was gone and left was an expression of anger. 

And suddenly a flash of green, bright blinding green. And a siring, burning, all too vivid pain ripped through your skin. You saw the bricks of a great and tall building crumbling, and seven pointed stars falling with it. The green grew, and burnt through it all, through your skin, through your bone, until you finally broke free from your dream.

You woke up with your eyes still closed, screaming from the pain.  

Your screaming naturally woke up your lover sleeping beside you. He instinctively wrapped his arm around you pulling you in closer. His other hand came to your face, holding it firmly, “(Y/N)!” He shouted waking you from your dream. As soon as your eyes opened, your screaming ceased. Your eyes wide, darted around the droll room until they finally settled on Podricks face. He looked at you with his sleepy, scared, and watery eyes “What is it?” He asked in a hush tone, “What’s wrong?” He asked as he brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Green, green, green fire…” You whispered, muttering incoherently, you felt the remnants of the pain you felt in the dream. Your eyes began to water, and you began to pant and shake as your mind began to understand your dream.

He held you closer, your face nuzzled into his neck, “It’s alright, it’s alright…” He whispered as he ran his hand up and down your side soothing you.

As you catched your breath in his arms, your dreams' meaning came clear to you. 

You knew that Margaery’s life was in danger, that she was going to die a terrible death. A terrible and undeserved death. 

So you peeled yourself away from your lover's arms. Stumbling around the cold room, beginning to dress yourself. 

“What’re you doing?” Podrick asked as you dressed in haste. “The sun is hardly out.”

“I have to leave here.” You said lacing your corset quickly. 

Podrick sat up in your bed, looking at you suddenly wide awake “Leave where?”

You looked back at him as you quickly shoved your feet into a pair of boots, “Leave here, Castle Black.” 

He threw the blankets off of himself and stood as you fastened your baldric holding your sword around your waist. “You can’t-“ He asserted. 

“Podrick, I have to.” You asserted back, you felt rotten with guilt but you knew you’d no choice. 

Podrick came close, putting his hand on the back of your neck, “What did you see?” He asked earnestly.

You took a breath, “Destruction. The Sept, in the Capitol. It erupted into a wildfire.” You said with fear in your eyes.

Podrick shook his head in confusion, “Why go then?” He wasn’t angry with you of course, but he couldn’t understand why you would put yourself in such danger.

“Margaery is there.” You said with a tilt of your head.

“You could die!” He said as you moved away from him, grabbing hold of your cloak and slinging it over your shoulders.

“She will! If I don’t go, she will.” You insisted desperately attempting for him to understand. Though of course a man would not understand the connection you and another woman would have. You continued to dress yourself, shoving your hands into your leather gloves.

Podrick, knowing he’d exhausted all his options, stood in front of the door. “I won’t let you.” 

You shoved your hand into your leather gloves. You stopped and stared, completely still once he said those words, “What?” you asked with narrow eyes.

“I said I won’t let you.” He asserted with a false confidence. 

You finished placing your hands into your gloves. Then stepped in front of Podrick, staring him down, “Say that one more time.” You said softly but intensely. 

He swallowed hard, and attempted to puff out his chest, “I won’t let you leave. I refuse to allow you to try to kill yourself.” He shook his head. Attempting to dominate the situation. 

“You won’t let me leave?” You asked with a raised brow.

He nodded, “That’s right.” As soon as he said those words you turned around and opened the window shutters of your chamber, beginning to climb out of it. He must have forgotten your chamber was on the ground level. “He-“ He began before rushing over to the window that you were jumping out of, “(Y/N)!” He shouted out the window as you landed on the ground. 

“I’ll return!” You shouted back to him as he watched you run towards the stables. 

Podrick, still half naked from waking up beside you, stumbled around the room attempting to dress himself quickly enough to catch you before you left the gates. 

However by the time he was dressed and running outside, the gates were closed. And your brown horse is now gone. 

Podrick stood there for a moment just staring at the gates. Unsure of what to do next. When he looked beside him, he noticed the tall lady knight he served. Brienne was entering the courtyard for Podricks training, as they did each morning. She looked upon his helpless expression with confusion.

“She’s gone.” He said breathless and defeated.

“Gone where?” She asked, irritated with a furrowed brow. 

“Kings Landing.” Podrick said in a huff.

Brienne scrunched her face, “Hm, She seemed strange but not stupid.”

“She’s not stupid.” Podrick nearly snapped, which was very out of character, especially towards her. “She’s strong wielded.” He said more calmly. 

“Then go.” Brienne said as if it were the obvious answer… which it was. 

“What?” Podrick asked, he never thought of himself capable of it. 

Brienne rolled her eyes, “Gods- Podrick, if you fear for her then help her.” She huffed, “Honestly you thinking you’d be able to stop her was pathetically idiotic.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Your journey south was pitifully uneventful. You knew now where to avoid in the roads and what Inns would throw out day-old food. It was getting into the capital that proved to be a challenge. And you knew that getting into the castle walls would be even harder. However it wasn’t long after arriving that you had heard enough murmurs among the smallfolk that Margaery was not in the walls of the castle at all, no she was in the Sept. 

You knew then that your time was running thin. But at least in the sept there was a way in. You snuck in through the Septa’s quarters. Hiding your sword and cloak there. You dressed in the gray humble smock, and a matching gray headdress to conceal your hair. 

Soon after stumbling through the sept long enough you found where they were keeping her. 

As you looked in through the small crack in the door, you could see her curled up in a corner of the room. 

“You there!” A voice called out, 

You were startled, and jumped slightly as you looked over to the voice who called out. You saw it was a younger boy holding a tray of food. 

“Are you giving the Queen her supper?” He asked innocently. 

You nodded, and took the tray from the boy. “Can you open the door?” You asked, “I seemed to have forgotten my keys in my quarters." 

The boy rolled his eyes in annoyance, but did as you asked. 

As you entered the room you made sure that the boy closed the door behind him, and waited to hear his footsteps fade. Then you approached Margaery. 

She was curled up in the corner of the room facing away from you. You walked closer to her, placing the tray of food by her feet. 

She looked nothing like herself. Her feet were dirty, almost black, and she was dressed in a gray rag. 

“Leave it and go.” She said defiantly. It was nothing like the Margaery you knew. 

“Margaery-“ You whispered. 

She turned to face you, recognizing your voice. She pulled your headdress down, looking at your hair as it fell out of it, “What are you doing here?” She asked terrified of you. You coming here was a dangerous choice. She knew the risk you were taking was great. Not only for you but for her as well.

“I’ve come to take you away from this pious shit.” You said quickly, knowing your time had run thin, and it was now or never for her to leave this place. 

She looked at you with narrow eyes, “This pious shit is going to let me stay queen.” 

You looked at her with confusion. Not understanding how she could possibly wish to remain prisoner. “It’s going to kill you. I saw it.” You grabbed her by her shoulders, “They’ll never listen to you and it will kill you.” 

She shook her head, looking at you with the same confusion you looked at her with, “You don’t know that.” She stood, 

You stood with her, “I do, I dreamt it.” You said with a nod. 

She stifled a laugh, “You didn’t come all the way here for a dream I should have hoped for.”

“They come true.” You said pleading with her to understand, “I dreamt of a dead black fish and Podrick-“ You began explaining but were cut off but a scoff, 

“Oh! Podrick, I am glad he indulges your fantasies. What a doting suitor he is.” Margaery said, rolling her eyes. 

“I know you’re upset with me-“

“Upset?” She asked, her eyes welling up, “You left me.” She said quietly, “Left me, for someone you loved. Someone else.” She said walking across the room, frustrated. 

You felt helpless, you couldn’t give her what she wanted, “Come with me.” You asked in a soft voice, she turned to you with heartbreak in her eyes, “Please.” You begged. 

She breathed hitched as she breathed in. She held back her emotion, closing her eyes for a moment, then finally looking at you with her head held high, “I am the Queen.” She said with teary eyes, “A Queen does not abandon her people.” 

“You are my friend.” You said softly. 

“That’s the problem, that is what I am to you.” She said, lowering her head. “That is not all you are to me.” 

You knew what she meant by it, and so did she. You always knew. And if Podrick had not come along, who knows perhaps you would have. But with him, there was only him. 

You let out a sharp exhale, “Margaery-” You began stepping towards her, 

“Go.” She said heartbroken once again, “Go with your dreams and your lover.” She said sitting back down. 

You stood there in silence for a moment not knowing what to say, “That’s it then?” You said defeatedly, fighting back tears.

She huffed, angrily, “That’s it.” She whispered in a hiss. 

Defeated, and now already mourning the friend you loved. You nodded, wiped your cheek, and headed for the door. 

As your hand touched the handle of the door, Margaery stopped you. Grabbing hold of your hand. Startled you turned around to face her, 

“Your hair.” She said as she handed you the gray headdress. Before you could take it from her hands she began putting it on herself. Tucking your hair into the headdress, you stared at her face. She was holding back tears as she smoothed out the fabric for you. 

You couldn’t help it, you wrapped your arms around her, hugging her close. Her arms did not embrace you for a moment. Hesitant to give into your gesture. Until she heard your quiet sobs in her ear, she finally embraced you, closer and harder than you did to her. 

You wanted to hold her forever, your dearest friend, who you knew would soon parish. But who you knew you had no sway over any longer, and you were unsure you ever did have any sway.  

Before you could pull away, Margaery, while still embracing you, opened the door behind you and pushed you out of the room, closing the door behind you. 

No goodbye.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

You managed to find your way back to the Septa’s chambers, gathering your things, and leaving the same way you snuck in. 

As you walked through the streets of the capital, you couldn’t help it but let your tears fall down your face. Knowing that you’d failed and that your dearest friend would soon be dead. You felt even more guilty for leaving Podrick, and even more ashamed to face him again. You knew that you would be dreading it your whole journey back to Castle Black. 

Only what you didn’t know is that you wouldn’t have to wait the whole journey to see him. 

As you walked in the streets, a hand grabbed your arm from behind and pulled you into an alleyway. You yanked your arm loose, and pinned the man against the wall with your dagger. 

With your dagger pressed against his throat, “It’s me!” Podrick said

As soon as you registered it was Podrick, you dropped the dagger. “Oh-“ You said shocked, you held his face, “I’m sorry-I’m so sorry- I was stupid-“

He grabbed your face, “You’re not stupid.” asserting. 

You shook your head, “I’m sorry.” You said, beginning to cry again. Though he did not wish to hear apologies, because he did not need them. He pulled you in close and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was passionate, and desperate. 

Your kiss was an apology, and a proclamation of devotion. 

As you pulled away, you looked around and noticed that the crowds around you were paying more attention to you. “We’d better move.” Podrick said, taking your hand and pulling you along. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You and Podrick we're now on the rode together for the first time. You aimed your bow and arrow at a rabbit, far into the woods. 

“Sh- If you’re too loud you’ll scare it.” You said as Podrick kneeled beside you as you tried to get your aim perfect. 

Podrick looked out into the woods, “Think we might be too far-” before he could continue, you let your arrow loose, and it flew across the woods. Piercing through the rabbit's skull, “How’d you get so good at that?” Podrick asked in astonishment.

You shrugged, “Time… Lots of it. Boredom.” You said standing and approaching the rabbit. 

Podrick shuffled to stand, and followed you into the woods, “I had time, and lots of boredom. Never had anyone to teach me.”

“My father taught me some before he up and left and then my brother taught me some before he up and left too. Then my aunt.” You continued, holding your skirts as you walked further and further into the woods. 

“Most girls get taught how to sew, needle point-” 

You took his hand, “I can do some of that. Sewing up wounds and all that.” You said as you turned his palm over, showing him his scar of the wound you stitched up. Making him smile. You kept holding his hand as you continued, “My mother was a young bride. From what I hear she would have taught me to make dresses and embroider silks. But…I killed her when I came out of her.” Before Podrick could respond to what you had said, you got to the dead rabbit in the woods. You picked it up, holding it up by its legs, “Do you know how to skin a rabbit?” 

That night, Podrick, somewhat in an attempt to impress you, built you a fire, and cooked you that rabbit. However much he had improved he was not much of a cook. Though you appreciated the gesture all the same. 

As you ate it, you attempted not to grimace, “It’s not bad.” You said to Podrick, who knew you were being polite. “I like mine burnt anyway.” You shrugged and he smiled at you softly, “You don’t need to know how to cook to be a knight.”

“Suppose not.” He smiled, taking another bite of his burnt rabbit. 

“You came for me?” You looked back at him.

He looked back to you, “Course I did.” 

You placed the burnt rabbit down, and snuggled up closer to him. “I am sorry.”  You placed a hand on top of his, “I should have listened to you.” 

“People usually don’t.” He shrugged, genuinely not seeing the issue.

“I should.” You asserted, you leaned in closer to him “Your words mean a great deal to me.” You looked down in shame, “I don’t understand this thing. If I cannot change its course, then all it does is torment me.” You said somberly. 

He took your hand, “I want to help you understand your gift. Whatever it may be.” He brought your knuckles to his lips.

You smiled at him as he kissed your hand, “And I want to help become a Knight.”

“You do?” He asked with a giddy smile.

You nodded, “Of course, as long as you’re not a KingsGuard. I can’t have you swearing to chastity. It’d be a great waste of your talents.” You jested.

“Talents?” He stifled a laugh, 

“Your talents that are renowned around all the brothels in westeros.” You teased, and he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him, “Ah!” you giggled,

As you settled on top of him he looked up at you with adoration and warmth, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever touch.” He said earnestly. 

You smiled and stifled a laugh as you ran your hand through his hair. “Well, I am sure all the whores in the realm will be quite disappointed.” He did not say anything, just continued to look up at you with loving eyes, “What?” you asked innocently. 

His smile tugged on the corners of his mouth slightly, making him smile wider for a moment. “Would you take me as your husband?” He asked you, his grip around your waist tightening ever so slightly. 

You smiled warmly, placed your hands on his cheeks, now covered in an unfamiliar stubble. “Of course, you imbecile.” You thought it was obvious. You abandoned him once, and now we’re determined never again. You pressed his forehead against your own, “You and me.” You whispered. 

His hand that caressed your back, trailed up to hold the back of your neck. Pressing his lips against yours. You rocked your hips teasingly against him, and his hand tangled into your hair. Your hands roamed his chest, and his arms, admiring how strong they’d gotten. He did the same, his hand pawing at the neckline of your gown. 

You were content on ridding him of his pants, and riding him, but you were interrupted by the sounds of twigs snapping under the weight of a person's feet.

You pulled away from him, looking out into the woods. “Sh-“ You hushed him before he could even speak.

“What?” He asked quietly.

“Footsteps.” You replied. You got off of him, and pulled him up to stand. 

Soon the footsteps grew louder as they approached. And soon, a man appeared on a great black horse. A man in Bolton colors, with a Bolton sigil on his horse.  

“Hello there.” The man said with a disingenuous smile.

It was silent for a moment. You were unwilling to respond, simply glaring at the man who spoke to you. Podrick however did, “Hello.” he said in an attempt to ease the tension. 

The man, noticing your glare, smirked, “My Lady.” He said in greeting to you, once again.

“Can I help you?” Podrick asked, attempting to get some of the attention away from you.

The man still looking at you said, “She your lady?” 

Podrick looked at you, noticing your hostile glare, he let out a small sigh before saying “Aye.” 

“Not much of a talker is she?” The man’s eyes still did not leave you, you rolled your eyes at his comment. 

Podrick looked back at the man, “She can choose when she speaks. Can I help you with something?” Podrick asked, trying to understand what the man wanted. 

“No. But maybe, I could help you. Where are you traveling.” The man still holding up his pleasant facade.

“You can’t help us.” You interjected, knowing the man was “Will make our own way.” 

“Not a polite birdie, are you?” The man asked, grinning at you. 

“He asked what you wanted.” You said, your eyes hard and narrowed at the man. 

The man bit his lip, and stifled a laugh. He shrugged, “I want to know what you’re doing here.” “Then we can’t help you. Now fuck off.”  You said with a tilt of your head. Podrick felt a dread growing inside of him. 

Your words riled up the man, he huffed and began to speak again “Listen-” 

“Stop talking.” You commanded, 

The man was thrown off by your words, it angered him, “I will not stop talking, woman. If I have something to say-” 

You aimed your bow and arrow at the man, “I said stop talking. Leave.” 

“You let your woman speak for you?” The man asked mockingly, looking at Podrick. 

“He’s one of Bolton’s men.” You said to Podrick, in a low tone.

“And I take it you two aren’t?” The man said with a crooked grin.

“She told you to leave.” Podrick said, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

In return, the man pulled out his own sword, and pointed it towards Podrick. 

Your eyes narrowed, “I don’t like men who don’t listen.” You just released your arrow. It flew and hit the man in his eye, killing him just like the rabbit you killed earlier that night. 

You looked at Podrick, who looked at you in awe. Never having seen you kill another person. “We’d best keep going then.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

By the time you had arrived back to Castle Black, tensions between the Starks and the Boltons had risen. As soon as you set foot within the walls of Castle Black Jon summoned you. He handed you a letter written by Ramsay Bolton. A letter threatening killing, pillaging, raping, burning, and varies forms of torture to all tratorus houses. 

“Like bad poetry.” You said as you finished the letter. 

“We’ve been threatened with war. If we are to take back Winterfell we will need an army, an army we don’t have.” Jon said with a brooding face. 

“You want the Mormont army? You’ll find it to be lacking in numbers, no doubt. Though our men and women fight harder than any other army.” You said proudly. 

“So you’ll give us the men?” Jon asked, you could sense the desperation in his voice.

You shook your head, “I have no sway. Lyanna is the Lady of Bear Island, not I.” 

“You are the eldest living inherited Mormont, you have claim-”

“Out of the question.” You interrupted him, “Lyanna stepped into her role admirably in place of my aunt. She’s served the house well. I will not return just to take it from her. I do not want it.” You asserted adamantly.  

“Convince her then.” Jon pleaded with you, “Lyanna Mormont has been unwilling to provide aid to anyone.” He said as he handed you another letter. 

As you unscrolled the letter you read the words, “Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." In your cousin's writing. 

You smiled at her writing, “She is just like her mother.” You rolled the scroll back up and handed it back to Job, “I’ll go. Though I am not sure it will help you. Mormont’s hold grudges, and I left them holding a rather large one.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

And so you did. You got on a ship with Davos Seaworth, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, and of course her sworn sword Brienne, and her squire Podrick. Who was now your intended. 

As your ship approached the docks of Bear Island, you looked out the front of the ship at the giant green island you were approaching. You felt uneasy, like your stomach aches. Nervous for what the people of the island would say. But you’d never let that show.

Podrick, who stood behind you, leaned forward to hold your hand, but was interrupted by Jon’s voice. 

“Any… advice?” He asked, unsure if you would be able to help at all. 

“Don’t rely on flattery or small talk. She might be young but being called pretty will not soften her judgment.” You spoke plainly as you looked at the green mountains of the island, “Infact do not attempt small talk with anyone on the Island. Be blunt, and harsh with your words. It is the only way to get their attention.” 

“You suggest we walk in and demand their army?” He asked, displeased with your answer.

“Essentially, yes.” You nodded and looked back to Jon, “You remember how to handle my father?” You asked with a raised brow,

Jon scoffed, “You believe the girl of ten and three is as hard as he is?”

“Harder.” You asserted, looking back to the ship's port. You noticed someone as your ship docked. A man by the name of Dareon. Ser Dareon, a man who once loved you, who fucked you only once when you and he were both quite drunk. However you did not love him back. Since that day he and you shared a mutual disdain for one another. “Fuck…” You murmured under your breath.

Podrick, hearing what you said, leaned in close to you, “You know him?” You looked at him with an uncomfortable and concerned expression. 

Unable to explain it to him, and he unable to prod you for more information, your ship docked into the port. As you stepped off the boat, you looked at the knight with irritation. Irritated simply by his presence. “Hello, Ser Dareon.”

“Fuck is she doing ‘ere?” Dareon asked Jon, angry that he had brought you.

“This is my home, Ser Dareon.” You said irritated. 

“It’s your home when it suits you?” He said mockingly, he turned to some of the other men beside him, “Tell Lady Mormont, the deserter has returned.”

“I’ll see my cousin now.” You said, not willing to wait. 

“Aye, she’ll see you. Not them.” A guard from the house said. Your arrival must have been announced already. “The Lady wishes to speak with her kin, then she’ll speak to the rest of you.” He said looking at Jon, Sansa, Davos, and Podrick. 

“He comes with me.” You said linking your arm with Podrick’s. After all, if you were going to marry him, he would soon become her kin as well. 

“Who the fucks he?” Ser Dareon spat, his tone oozed with thinly veiled jealousy.

“My betrothed, Podrick Payne.” You said with your head held high, it made Podrick smirk to himself. “Now get the fuck out of my way.” You said with venom dripping from your voice as you pushed past him with Podrick’s arm linked to yours.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

As you entered the great hall of your home. You looked around, the familiar interior seemingly offering you no comfort as you stood in front of your younger cousin, Lyanna. You bowed your head respectfully to her, as did Podrick. 

“And who is this?” Lyanna asked, already exhausted by the situation. She sat at a large table in the great hall, the same chair your Father used to sit. 

“Some westernmen by the name of Podrick Payne, My Lady.” Ser Dareon said, intentionally wanting to get under your skin. 

“My Intended.” You added, proudly. 

“Payne?” Your young cousin said, “Of House Payne?” Her voice dripped with disdain, “The same house which raised Illyn Payne? The same Illyn Payne that took Ned Stark's head?” She attacked with her words.

“His name isn’t Illyn, is it?” You defended. Podrick stood unsure of how or when to interject. This was your home, and he desperately wished to be accepted, even if you yourself hardly were.

Lyanna’s small, and beady eyes landed on you again, “You leave us to travel across the seven kingdoms, become the Queen’s handmaiden, and return with a westerman for a husband?” She questioned you hard. 

Though her words were hard, you spoke softly. “I left, that's true. I left after I had nothing left here. I was kidnapped by the Lannisters and forced into their service. Once I was able to escape, I did.”

“Once my mother was killed.” She added. 

“No.” You asserted emphatically. 

“You want to be head of house now? Now that you’re the eldest Mormont. Eldest inherited Mormont.” She was accused. 

You shook your head. “No. Truth is I would hate to be in your position.” You spoke plainly, “And you seem to be better suited to the role.” You said earnestly.

“She is.” Ser Dareon interjected, 

“Enough out of you.” Lyanna snapped at Ser Dareon, and then turned her attention to Podrick once again, “Let’s hear from him then. What house do you fight for?”

“My Lady,” Podrick said respectfully, stepping forward, “I squire for Brienne of Tarth, the sworn sword to Lady Sansa Stark.”

“House Stark then?” Lyanna asked, attempting to get to the point.

“No, my Lady.” He shook his head, “I fight for (Y/N).” He looked at you, “My house is (Y/N).”

NOTE: I am so sorry this sucks lmao, I have the worst brain fog from covid it is insane.

Y/N: I don’t be giving no fucks. I say whatever I want I do whatever I want. I’m counting up-

Podrick: Money for fun! ☝️😜

Bambi

BELOVED TAGS:  @ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart @siimiasoi  @evilunicorns4minions @randomgurl2326 @theunknownduck0

[imagineinside]

Eternal Claws (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760089693618618368/eternal-claws-logan-howlett-x-femreader-chapter?source=share

A/N: First of all, thank you guys for all the love on the first chapter! I was very worried about if people would actually enjoy the story I have planned for you and Logan ;). This next chapter focuses now on the grown reader, who is more mature and confident in herself. Please let me know if you want to see any specific tropes or moments in the future chapters, I am keeping the storyline rather broad as I continue building this world. :D

Summary: At a young age of 16, you find yourself saved from a group of hunters by no other mutant than The Wolverine, who reluctantly becomes your protector during your first heat. As weeks pass and you recover, a complex bond forms between yourself and the powerful mutant who had saved you.

Seven years later, now a confident young woman with refined mutant abilities, you encounter Wolverine again. Despite your growth and newfound strength, old feelings resurface as Wolverine returns from a secretive mission. As you navigate the challenges of your powers and your unspoken connection with him, you must come to terms with your past and the burgeoning feelings that might redefine your future.

Current Applicable Warnings: 18+ (semi-explicit story), canon-typical violence, age gap (like 200+ with a 25 yr old), Alpha!Logan, Omega!Reader, a/o/b universe, sexual tension cause I live for that sh*t, pining, past (complicated) relationships, angst, fluff, more to come.

Word Count: 3,102 the hair flick makes me feral

Seven Years Later

Jumping out of bed, you completed your daily routine: rinsed off in the shower, brushed your teeth, and took your inhibitors before going to meet Cyclops and Jean in the cafeteria. You had met the two other mutants pretty early into your career at the school, and trained with them since then. They were rather taken aback by your mutation at first, with stealing life to provide it to something else and all, but they had grown to see the benefits.

You don’t see the Wolverine very much anymore, though he did teach your History courses up until you turned 18. Once that point hit, after your 18th birthday, you two developed a rather… complex friendship. If anyone had asked you if you were friends, both of you would have denied it. 

But those late night sparring sessions, where Logan would push you to the point of burnout, where he would inevitably carry you back to your room once your legs gave out… those moments told a different story. Or the morning after where he would wake you up with a knock on your door and hand you a stack of pancakes with chocolate chips, just the way you liked it. And you would ask him to stay to keep you company while you read. And even though he would never admit it to you or anyone else, he loved the calming sound of your voice reading to him in the early morning.

And perhaps he was there for entirely selfish reasons.

You lived in that blissful existence until Professor X sent Logan overseas for a confidential mission. He had been gone for nearly three years without a word to you or anyone else. Though who was counting, right?

You had noticed a while back, before he left the school, that Logan liked to hang around Jean a lot… but you didn’t let it bother you at all. 

Not at all.

Not.

At.

All. 

Your dear friend, Jean, had grown breathtaking over the years, her powers right alongside her. Any Alpha would be attracted to such a powerful Omega, it just makes sense. Still, you can’t help but feel a tad sorry for Scott. The Beta has done everything to keep up with Jean and Logan.

Of course, you have grown into yourself as well over time. The past three years especially. Your face lost its childish features, your curves becoming more defined every year. The rigorous training you had put your body through over the last seven years had filled you out nicely, though that was only a positive side effect. You just never wanted to be as weak as you were before. Ever again.

Walking into the cafeteria, you surveyed the crowd of fellow students and teachers alike, but you were surprised to see a second set of shoulders sitting beside your redheaded friend. Clad in a leather jacket with spiked hair. Logan wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of months, at least according to the Professor.

“Logan,” His name left your mouth in a puff of air. It felt as if you were seeing a ghost after such a long time. Part of you thought he may have just up and vanished when he had left for that mission. Seeing him again felt… surreal.

The Wolverine turned in his chair, brow raised in that way it always was, though it fell when his piercing gaze landed on you from across the room. For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, you were afraid he would somehow not recognize you. But it was like the Professor had frozen everyone around you for an instant, everything else simply fell away. You could feel that stupid childhood crush come creeping back to the surface. 

He spent your first heat protecting you, so what? That was his job. You were too immature for him then, he probably still thinks about you the same damn way.

“Vitalia,” Logan called out your codename in a way of greeting, that look in his eyes making you feel invincible for a brief moment. Then the powerful mutant was rising from his chair and moving through the busy cafeteria to get to you. His shoulders moved in that same powerful way they always had, with a confidence that made your knees feel weak. When he finally stopped before you, you were toe-to-toe with each other. Jeez you had forgotten how tall this man was. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again,” he whispered before reaching down and wrapping his large arms around you in a bear hug you had forgotten always felt so good.

You didn’t fight as your eyes fluttered closed and you took a long, deep breath of his pinewood and leather scent. A scent that reminded you of comfort and home. A scent that you haven’t smelled since the day he left.

The Professor had locked Logan’s room upon him leaving the campus. At the time, it felt like just another nail in the coffin to you that the Wolverine was gone. But over time, you just wanted to smell him again, and cursed the fact that you couldn’t walk into his room to see and smell all he had left behind.

It was rare for you two to hug, though not unheard of. Despite your childish hope of having Logan as an–ahem–intimate partner, in your mind hugging was a line you rarely crossed with each other.

For the Wolverine, though, he just needed to make sure you were kept safe. You meant too much to him to let you go. But you didn’t know that… yet.

“Where did they send you?” You gently asked him as you rubbed at his back. 

It was a common occurrence for him to come back from missions, or–hell–even come to your room after a night terror looking for comfort. The first time it had happened, you think you were almost 20 at the time, he had just returned from a failed rescue mission for a young mutant boy. You were just getting ready for bed when a hard knock sounded at your door. Thinking that it was Jean returning your Math textbook, you opened the door, only to find a towering, battered looking Wolverine on the other side.

“Can I come in?” He had asked, his voice dark and hoarse.

You nodded for him to enter, closing the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” You asked him as you pulled out your desk chair, not sure if it was the right time to take a seat next to him on the bed.

Logan swallowed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “He didn’t make it.”

“The boy you were sent to find?”

All he could do was nod his head.

“Lo, I am so sorry,” you replied, tears pricking at your eyes. “Whatever happened it wasn’t your fault.”

Logan gritted his teeth together, his forearm flexing as he clenched and unclenched his hand over and over. Though you weren’t afraid of him, you never could be. “The townspeople… Not only was he a mutant but he presented as Omega.” A sob ripped from his throat, a sound you had never heard him produce before. “He never stood a chance.”

“Oh God,” you couldn’t say anything else… do anything else. You didn’t want to know what– “Do you need to stay here? I can sleep on the floor.”

He gave a solemn nod and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Thank you,” came his response. You gave him a sad smile before rising to gather a blanket and pillow for the floor. Before you could get very far, Logan’s large hand was holding your cheek and his thumb rubbed away a tear streaking down your face. His hazel eyes felt like they were piercing through you, as if they were trying to capture you a million times over. Like he was afraid you would be gone the second he blinked. “I’m so glad that it wasn’t you… It wasn’t you.” He repeated, as if needing to prove it to himself.

You laid awake that night, listening to his heavy breathing as he cradled one of your shirts that he had asked for close to his face. By the time you fell asleep, you woke again to your door being shut closed, the shadow of Logan disappearing down the hallway.

You tried to ignore the fact that after leaving your room at night, he would move down the hall and knock on Jean’s door. You never told him or Jean that you knew what they were doing. It wasn’t worth the heartache for you. You just wanted to be there for a close companion, a friend… of sorts.

“They sent me to Russia,” he grumbled into your shoulder before straightening up and untangling his arms from around you, “I went in to infiltrate an illegal mutant testing program. And to free Professor X’s old friend…” As his voice trailed off, you got the hint he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it further. 

Instead, you gave him a watery smile and, before you could truly think about what you were doing, you rose onto your toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome back, old man,” you whispered, only pausing enough to watch his nose twitch and his pupils expand to the rim, an animalistic look hidden in his eyes. You quickly turned away to try to hide the fact that your cheeks were quickly turning a shade of red.

But he caught it, he always did. And he would keep that look of yours ingrained in his mind, somewhere deep inside for him to peek at when he needed it the most.

You cleared your throat and strode towards the table, “It must be nice to catch up with everyone.”

“I came here to find you first,” his response had your steps faltering and mind reeling. You would have thought he wanted to see Jean or Professor X first, not… you.

You had to come to a complete stop when you saw the plate that was waiting for you at your normal eating spot. A stack of… warm chocolate chip pancakes.

You never stood a chance against the current of waterworks that came pouring out of you. Turning and sobbing into Logan’s chest, your heart so full of joy and relief that he was here.

* * *

“God I wish you never came back,” you spat at Logan from across the ring, spitting blood from your mouth onto the gray floor. The tooth he had knocked free hurt like a bitch as it regrew into place.

Over the years, especially these last three, you’ve been growing more and more with your mutant abilities. And apparently, with the ability to control life and all that, you can heal yourself at speeds that rival the Wolverine.

“Since Professor X told me you can heal now, I don’t have to hold back.” Logan laughed as he lunged forward, this time with two claws out on either fist. You made a mistake to block your upper body as he jammed both sharp ass knives into your legs, making you yell out in pain.

You solidified your place on the ground behind swinging you right arm upwards, hitting him in the jaw hard enough to knock him backwards and to get those damn, stupid fucking adamantium cat claws out of you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re talking out loud again.” Logan called as he rose from the ground, both his claws retracting into his arms.

“Good, I hope you know how much I hate those things.” You seethed back at him as you walked from the ring to grab a drink of water. “Those fuckers have pierced holes in my mattress and sheets far too many times.”

Logan’s hearty laugh followed you to the bench, making it impossible to hide your own smile spreading across your face. “Hey, at least you’re strong enough to walk out of here on your own two feet now.”

Your smile falls faster than it started. “Yeah,” you sighed, “at least that.”

“You have gotten a lot stronger since the last time I was here.” Logan said, his voice coming from close behind you. For a brief moment, you thought you felt the ghost of a touch around your waist, but when you turned around there was nothing there. “Listen, um…” he let out a harsh laugh, almost like a scoff,  “I’m not very good at this kind of stuff which you know, but… I am sorry I left for so long.”

Maybe two years ago you would have relished those words. An apology coming from the big, angry Wolverine. But now, it just made you feel like a child. It made you feel like you were just a kid he felt like he was in charge of still. “I can take care of myself, Logan.”

“I know that,” he rushed to say, “I didn’t mean to imply you–”

“Scott, Jean and I are being sent on a mission.” You let the words tumble out of your mouth into the space between you. It felt like acid pouring out of you, leaving steaming piles on the floor that you could no longer cross.

“What?” Logan asked, shaking his head.

“Professor X wants us to go on our first mission.”

“No, I heard that. It’s just… you’re too young still.” Logan growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m going to talk to the Profess–”

“Please, don’t!” You begged as you grabbed onto his arm when he turned to leave. Thankfully, it stopped him in his tracks. You looked down at where your hand was clasped around his wrist and released with a hiss, as if the touch had burned you. “I need this, Logan. Jean and Scott do too. I mean, it’s not their first mission but they need more experience out there.”

“When’s your next heat due?”

You felt yourself bristle at him, a growl crawling up your throat, “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go out there on a mission if your heat is coming soon.” He growled and snapped his teeth at you. The look in his eyes made you recoil back into yourself, you hated when your secondary gender bowed to his. You weren’t any less powerful than him, so why did you feel like you had to listen to him? You didn’t even feel this way with the Professor.

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” You yelled back, despite your Omega reeling back from yelling at an Alpha. God, you hated those words. “You let Jean go out there even though she’s an Omega.” You hated throwing your friend's name out there just to prove a point.

Logan scoffed and tossed his head back, “That’s completely different, Vitalia.”

“What, because you’re just sleeping with her?”

A deadly silence fell over the otherwise empty training room.

Logan breathed heavily and took a step towards you, making your knees bend against the bench behind you and you fell to the wooden surface. “You don’t know shit about that,” he said, his voice eerily calm.

“And you don’t know shit about what I’m capable of.” You said, your voice losing its vigor as tears pricked your eyes. “You were gone for three years, Logan. Do you have any idea how much I needed you?”

“I know,” he replied, his voice retreating back to its calm, bassy tone.

“But I’m not the same little girl anymore, alright?” You begged to be recognized, your voice becoming watery with the tears in your eyes. “I need this mission.”

You watched Logan’s Adam's apple bob in his throat as he stepped back from you. “I know.” He reached forward and offered a hand to help pull you up. Hesitantly, you laced your hands together and tugged upwards, rising from the seat. “Just make sure to be safe. And come back to m–to us.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved at his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I will, dad.”

“Hey,” he snapped at you as a smile played on his lips, “we talked about that.”

“I know, I know… it reminds you how old you are, old man.”

“Wow, you’re really asking for it aren’t you?”

You giggled to yourself and swayed your hips as you walked towards the exit (completely missing the way Logan watched every sway of your hips like his life depended on it). “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said with a wink.

A quick growl behind you was the only warning you received before you were tackled to the ground, an assault of tickles roaming across your ribs and under your armpits. Your laughter was contagious as it bounced around the room, Logan’s own baritone laughter mixing with yours. He hadn’t felt joy like this in so long. “I yield, I yield!” You yelled out.

His fingers stopped roaming as your laughter died out, and you realized how compromising of a position you were in during your attempt to escape. Logan was nestled between your legs, his torso keeping you spread open beneath him. And it just became inappropriate for your friend to have his shirt off, a heat forming in the bottom of your stomach as your eyes grazed along his happy trail that disappeared beneath his gray sweatpants. The need to peel down the band on his pants to see what that trail led to was overwhelming. You watched his pecs twitch as he leaned backwards, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. You wished he would reach around you and pull you closer to him, let you grind against him until you found a release that would have you screaming his name…

Fuck, you forgot he can sense your arousal and heartbeat.

You watched his pupils dilate for the second time that day, his eyes darkening as his grip tightened on your hips…

Clearing your throat you pushed away from him, and he let you go with little resistance as you slipped through his hands. “I’m gonna take a shower and meet Jean and Scott to go over mission details.” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but watching as he sat there looking wrecked because of you made your heart do something very strange.

Giving him one quick nod, you walked out of the room, running away from the man who had the power to destroy your heart.

Taglist (omg I can't believe I have one of these, love y'all): @kingdomhate , @sadslasher13 , @bontensbabygirl , @ferkillia , @coocoocachoogotscrewed , @craftycaptain.

[lemonlover1110]

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 29] Growing Family

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*this is really the last chapter, thanks for sticking with me in this cute adventure🥹

Seven years after Seiji is born, you constantly find yourself thinking about destiny and your first discussion with Satoru about it. Neither of you are sure, but you’re happy that this is how your life turned out. You love waking up next to him as his wife and proceeding to start off your day with him and your kids. With your seven-year-old Seiji and your five-year-old Saori. 

You both have teaching jobs– Of course, they’re very different. Satoru teaches three teenagers, one of them being Megumi, while you teach a classroom full of at least twenty second graders. Satoru always tells you that you’re one of the reasons he decided he wanted to become a teacher, apart from the part that he’s the strongest (you still have no idea what he means) and that’s his duty. You have a much bigger home than before; yet neither Megumi nor Tsumiki live with you anymore so many rooms are empty, however, considering the fact that you have two young children, the house is still very lively.

Satoru still had a great idea to fill up the empty rooms, and that’s how you find yourself expecting your third child with him. You swear to Satoru this is the last baby you’ll have, but that’s what you said when you gave birth to Saori. It’s easy to forget how bad pregnancy and childbirth are when you watch Satoru being the best possible father to your kids.

“Daddy, can you help with my homework?” Seiji asks, even though you’re the one that teaches his grade level and knows what his teacher is teaching. Apparently you’re great at explaining things but daddy just does it better, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch Seiji approach his father with the notebook. 

“Sure thing, buddy. Wait till Saori finishes with my nails.” Satoru answers, watching as his daughter paints his pinky nail a blue color. She was going for pink since it’s her favorite color but then she decided that blue would match his eyes (in reality she couldn’t find the pink nail polish and didn’t want to admit that she lost it). It’s fine though, her father will just buy her another one. “Wow, look at you. You’re doing such a great job.”

“I know.” Saori answers, so focused on not making a mess and painting her father’s whole finger. Satoru manipulates his infinity every time that she’s clearly about to paint his whole finger. 

“Saori, will you hurry up?” Seiji asks, clearly annoyed. He wants to get finished with his homework so he can watch TV, since you told him he could watch his show after he was finished with homework. You offered to help, but he turned you down.

“Don’t rush your sister, Seiji.” Satoru says, and he watches how Saori sticks her tongue out at her brother, causing Satoru to sigh. “Don’t stick your tongue out at your brother, Saori.”

“I can help you, Seiji.” You pop into the living room, where your husband and kids are. You find yourself bored for once in your life because Satoru took care of everything.

“It’s okay.” Seiji responds, making you pout. He does usually accept your help, but during your third pregnancy you’ve been a victim of pregnancy brain. You don’t think you’ve ever felt dumber, so stupid that even your seven-year-old notices.

“Saori, honey, will you paint my nails next.” You say and she perks up. For the first time Satoru fails, not turning his infinity on and getting nail polish all over his finger. She smiles brightly and nods her head.

“I’m done with you, daddy.” Saori tells her father, and he laughs as he looks at the unfinished hand. He stands up and walks over to Seiji to help him with his homework. You take Satoru’s seat and extend your hand to your daughter. “Do you want blue as well, mommy?”

“What other colors do you have?” You ask.

“I used to have pink.” She replies, which makes you laugh. She doesn’t have it anymore so you don’t see the point in bringing it up. She begins to paint your nails, and she’s awfully concentrated until she finally speaks up, “When’s my baby brother or sister getting here?”

“Around two more months.” You answer. You’re due in December, a little while after Satoru’s birthday. A month after her birthday. “Are you excited to be a big sister, honey?”

“Yeah.” She answers. She’s focused, therefore, she can’t talk. You stare at her, watch how concentrated she is. She has to push her white hair out of her face since it covers her vision. The more you stare at her, the more you realize how neither of your kids look like you and you hope that the third time around you give birth to your twin. “When’s my birthday?”

“In a month.” You respond since you won’t count down the weeks until her sixth birthday. You can’t believe just how fast she’s growing up, it feels just like yesterday when you found out that you were pregnant with your baby girl. You smile, watching as she paints your whole finger. Satoru has shown you his infinity, yet you still find yourself surprised how she never messes up Satoru’s nails. “Woah, you completely missed the nail there.”

“Sorry.” She apologizes yet she continues to make the same mistake. You aren’t paying too much attention to it, you just listen to Satoru explain to your son how to do his homework. You’re sure that you could explain it better, but you still smile. You never really thought you’d be here seven years later, but here you are.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

Satoru isn’t the type of man that goes to bed early– Well, he wasn’t. Up until he had two babies under two and ever since he had to handle a very energetic Seiji and a crybaby Saori, he’s been going to bed since eight at night. When you put both of your kids to bed, you both go to bed as well. His head barely touches the pillow and he’s passed out.

This specific night though, when his head touches the pillow, a scream comes from his daughter’s room and he sprints out of bed and to her room. He literally just put her to bed, there’s no way that she already had a nightmare. Seiji isn’t much of a prankster either so he’s ready to kill just about anyone.

Satoru finds his little girl with her knees to her chest. She buries her head in her knees, and she covers her ears. Satoru looks around, turning on the light. He’s about to ask what’s wrong since his eyes don’t see anything, but he feels the energy. His eyes land on the half open closet and he begins to walk towards it.

“Is everything okay, Saori–” Seiji comes running into the room after hearing his sister scream. He’s much slower than his father, but regardless he’s here.

“Go to your room, Seiji. Take your sister.” Satoru orders and Seiji does as instructed, even though it takes some effort to get Saori out of the room but he succeeds. Satoru fully opens the closet and a sigh leaves his body seeing the small curse. Nothing scary to him, but surely scary for his baby girl. 

He exorcizes the curse with no issue before walking out of the room and going to Seiji’s room. Seiji comforts his little sister, who’s trying to hide under the blue blanket that Seiji let her borrow. There’s a frown on Satoru’s face as he walks over to his babies and sits on the edge of the twin bed. He engulfs his kids in a hug.

“I’m sorry you saw that, Saori.” Satoru mutters. He feels guilty that the curse that he holds is passed down to his children. He’s known they can see them, but he tries to protect them as much as he can. Sometimes he can’t though. Satoru’s parents want him to start training his son as well, after all, Seiji is a descendent of the Gojo clan but Satoru doesn’t want to do that. He wants his kids to be free of this all. 

That’s not his decision to make though.

“Everything’s gonna be okay while daddy is here.” Satoru reassures them. He kisses the top of their heads, and just holds them while he can.

“What happened?” You show up a little too late. Getting up from your bed is the hardest exercise that you face lately. Satoru chuckles, it’s not like you’re really going to understand anyway. He doesn’t want you to.

“The kids are sleeping with us tonight, honey.” Satoru says, picking both Seiji and Saori from the bed and carrying them to your bedroom. You slowly follow behind, already out of breath by simply getting up from bed and going to Seiji’s bedroom.

When you stand in the doorway, you watch how Satoru tucks them in the middle of the bed, filling their faces up with kisses. Maybe it wasn’t exactly planned, but you’re glad you’re with him and the fact that he’s the father of your kids. Now, as his wife, you can’t imagine spending the rest of your days with someone else and you can’t imagine a father more perfect than him– Of course he has his flaws but they hardly poke through.

He often asks if you think he’s doing well as a parent, worried that he’s messing everything up. You can’t even begin to say how proud you are of him, and how you think he’s a far better parent than you are. He loves to remind them that their father is always there to help them, protect them, and love them. Maybe that’s why you agreed to have a third child with him, plus the process is always fun.

“I love you two so much.” Satoru says, and while he should lay down with them, he’s no longer tired, and when he looks back at you it seems like you aren’t tired anymore either. “We’ll be right back, do you want to watch some TV for a bit?”

They nod their heads and Satoru turns the television on. They’re too agitated to go to sleep as well. Letting them stay up for half an hour isn’t the end of the world. He then walks over to you, and throws his arm over your shoulder. You walk out of the room and go downstairs to the living to sit down for a moment and talk. It’s rare that you find yourself alone to just talk.

When you take a seat, a moan leaves your lips, and he furrows his brow. You grab his hand and put it over your belly, and your baby doesn’t waste time kicking. No matter how many times he’s felt it, it always amazes him. He always looks so in awe, and he doesn’t remove his hand until his baby kicks a couple more times. He then pecks your lips, muttering, “Thank you so much for this.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts because this is the last time we’ll have a kid.” You tell him, and he sweetly smiles at you, pecking your lips again. You rest your head on his shoulder for a minute, and he enjoys the moment. You appreciate the unusual silence. You’ve gotten used to so much noise, and you’ll grow to miss it if you sit in silence for too long. You still appreciate it.

“How’s Kaya?” He asks, interrupting the silence.

“She’s planning the baby shower. She’s going crazy.” You respond, and you hear him chuckle.

“Isn’t she due soon? She shouldn’t be stressing over a baby shower.” He says and you hum in response. You wouldn’t know either way, you opted out for a baby shower the second time around since you were already stressed enough planning a wedding and handling Seiji. Every time you’re reminded, you laugh due to the fact that your father was right about the fact that Satoru would knock you up months after Seiji’s birth.

“She’s due around Halloween– Maybe two weeks before Saori’s birthday.” You answer. That’s so soon, Satoru only prays that her water doesn’t break during the baby shower and that he has to handle all the chaos. Satoru knows Daisuke is absolutely freaking out about it all; Satoru knows that feeling all too well, he’s still freaking out even though this is his third baby.

“Our baby will finally have a little cousin this time around.” Satoru comments and you chuckle. Seiji didn’t need a cousin, he had his younger sister. This new baby doesn’t though, and you’re adamant on not having more kids which he understands since he’s not the one that carries them for nine months.

“What ended up happening in the kid’s room?” You ask, and Satoru takes a long minute to answer. There’s no point in lying. He lied so much to you when you first met, he can’t do that anymore while you’re his wife. You swore you’d leave him if you ever caught him in a lie again, and now he tells you the truth even when you can’t see it. He doesn’t see the point in telling you a problem that you can’t solve.

“Well… Uhm… A curse.” He answers, and you remove your head from his shoulder. You slowly nod your head in response, and you aren’t really sure how to answer that other than,

“Oh yeah…” There’s some things that you’ll never understand about them nor about your husband. You don’t like to think about the fact that there are some issues that you’ll never be able to help them out with, only Satoru can help them.

You sit in absolute silence for a minute as you get lost in your thoughts. Satoru watches you, wondering what goes on in your mind.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you sigh. You can’t try to play it off as if you’re okay because you expect him to remain honest with you, it’s hypocritical to lie to him.

“Yeah, it’s just… What if you aren’t around and a similar issue comes up. How would I handle that?” You ask, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head, his hand going down to rest on your belly. “I just feel useless for some stuff, Satoru.”

“You aren’t useless, baby.” He responds. He doesn’t want for you to think about this– He doesn’t want to think that you’re useless in any way. It makes him recall an incident from five years ago, and he hid the truth to not worry you. “Can I confess a lie I told you?”

“Better be from before we got married.” There’s a frown on your face, and Satoru chuckles.

“You remember when Seiji was three and Saori two, how they went running to you crying about a bug that you could not find?” Satoru asks, and you remember the incident clear as day. You were scared shitless but you still went after the bug to kill it; when you couldn’t find it and they kept crying about it, you just comforted them while Satoru dealt with the problem. “There wasn’t a bug, it was a curse. But you still managed to deal with the problem, even when you didn’t know what it was.”

“That does make me feel better.” You smile at him before kissing his lips. “I love you. You always know the right thing to say.”

“I love you too, baby.”

-

“Seiji, stop!” Saori yells at her brother who keeps messing around with her tiara. You’ve already struggled getting into a kangaroo onesie to go out with them, you’re already far too tired to stop their bickering. You have no idea why you agreed to go trick-or-treating with them, you doubt you can walk too much. In your defense, you promised you’d do it two months ago, and your circumstances now are much different than before. You should’ve known that by Halloween you’d be in a much different mood. You only glance at Satoru, who lays down on the bed and stares at the phone, and he stands up to deal with it. “Seiji!”

“Seiji, what are you doing?” Satoru yells, walking out of the bedroom to go to where his kids are at. Satoru crosses his arm as he looks down at the seven-year-old who wears a superhero costume, ready to go trick-or-treating. Seiji tries to play it off as if he’s doing nothing, but he’s holding his sister’s tiara in his hands. Satoru sternly says, “Give it back and apologize.”

Seiji drags his feet, walking over to his sister to give her back her tiara. When Saori gets her tiara back, she runs to her father’s side and hugs him. He picks his little princess up from the floor and kisses her forehead. She sticks her tongue out at Seiji, making Satoru sigh and say, “Don’t do that.”

“Mommy! Saori is being mean to me!” He yells, hoping to have a parent by his side. You’re forced to leave your room to deal with it, even after your efforts of not dealing with it.

“What’s happening?” You ask. You look at Satoru and Saori before looking down at Seiji. Before Seiji responds, Satoru says,

“I got it handled, honey.” He puts Saori down on the floor again, “Apologize to your brother, Saori.”

“What for?” She responds, giving her father doe-eyes, which always work. He looks away, at his son.

“Apologize to Seiji for sticking your tongue out at him.” Saori crosses her arms before dramatically turning to her brother. She mutters an apology which is good enough for the minor offense. When you’re no longer needed, you begin to walk away, but you don’t get too far before your name is called again.

“Is Megumi still going with us?” Seiji asks, and you nod your head in response. You then look at your husband.

“Change. We have to get going soon so we get home early.” You order, and Satoru has no option but to do as you say. That’s what he signed up for when he chose to marry you. 

When you’re back in your room, you lay down on your bed, grabbing a picture frame that’s beside your bed and looking over it because every time Megumi is brought up you’re reminded of the little family you had six years ago. It’s an old photo of baby Seiji, Megumi, and Tsumiki. Looking at Tsumiki’s precious smile almost always makes you cry, and when the tears well up, they spill as you laugh at Megumi’s awful smile.

Maybe you should’ve appreciated those times more, but you had a lot on your plate. It’s not like you can stop time or stop awful things from happening. You’re still happy with your life right now.

The picture frame is snatched from your hands, and you glare at your husband. He looks at the picture before he puts it down on the nightstand. He leans down, and kisses you, “Don’t start getting sentimental now, it’ll ruin your night.”

“I’ll try not to.” You respond. He takes a seat on your side of the bed, his hands resting on your belly.

“I got a call.” He announces, and it makes your brows raise. He clears his throat, “We’ll have to go trick or treating without me. It’s an emergency.”

“Oh?” You reply. You want to be upset about it, but you know he doesn’t do it on purpose. Satoru is the first one to be bummed out about missing time with his kids. “I can take the kids out.”

“No! I want you to stay here till I get home.” He sounds defensive, and you know better. It’s rare when Satoru says no, so you’ll listen. He pecks your lips, telling you, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His head goes down and he presses a couple of kisses on your belly before he promises,

“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as possible. We gotta take these kids trick-or-treating together.”

[nyeddleblog]

Unrequited. [Part 5]

Pairing: Andrew! Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Mentions of past Gwen Stacy x Andrew! Peter Parker; Mentions of Mary Jane Watson x Fem!Reader. Warnings: Swearing, shower tension, misunderstandings and a tiny bit of angst. Summary: Dinner with Gwen Stacy.

PREVIOUS PART.

Chapter 5: Late night memories.

The water in the shower stopped running. As soon as you realized this, you jumped out of the couch quickly to get in the shower yourself. The chicken, despite how incredibly cliché it sounded, was already in the oven and who knew when your guest would arrive, so you didn't take into mind that Peter was still in the bathroom.

"Jesus fucking Christ?"

"Move, I need to take a shower" you stated, not even looking at the way he grabbed the towel against his crotch, barely even covering him. 

You let the water run once more and took off your shirt, making him gasp. You frowned then, looking back at him like he was the one acting weird. Peter was blushing, taking slow flustered steps back and out of the bathroom. You raised an eyebrow.

"It's not your first time seeing me shirtless."

"I guess I'm not used to it" he stammered, looking away.

"Yet I have to be used to you being shirtless."

He leaned in, taking a hold of the doorknob and settled his eyes on your bare shoulders. You, instead of shying away from his weak attempt of teasing you, untied the string on your sweatpants and slid off them with ease. Peter froze for a second and slammed the door shut. 

He could hear your laughter when he did.

Of course he'd seen you in your underwear, you'd been living together for seven years and had spent countless summers with no air conditioning. But one thing was seeing you walk around in your panties and an oversized shirt two years ago and a completely different thing was seeing you now, getting ready for a shower.

You'd always been incredibly hot, but it had been some time. If you weren't you, he would be begging to be suffocated by your thighs. Of course, being you he was weirded out he even begun to think about it.

"I don't think there's any hot water left" he yelled, just to be casual. Just to come back to your usual roommate/best friend banter.

"I'm taking a cold shower" you yelled back. 

He bit his lip at that. He looked up at the ceiling until he heard his phone buzz inside the bathroom and remembered he was butt naked because he'd gotten kicked out of there. He didn't want to get in, but his decent clothes were in fact neatly folded on top of the sink.

"Hey, sweetheart!"

"Yeah?"

"My clothes are in there!"

He heard you giggle and he rolled his eyes.

"Come in, then."

Peter thought about it, considered waiting until you came out of the bathroom. Then the bell rang and he swung the door open. He heard you whistle behind the curtain, letting his towel drop to the floor to quickly get a hold of his boxers. 

"I'm coming!" he yelled out. 

He had a bit of practice with changing quickly with the whole Spider-Man thing, but he was still nervous about Gwen. It was Gwen Stacy, for fuck's sake.

Peter greeted her with wet hair, an inside out t-shirt and barefoot. She smiled playfully, same big green eyes and freckled nose. He held his breath.

"Hello, Peter."

He let out a nervous laugh, "Gwen, how...?"

The oven rang. He cringed, making the woman in front of him laugh that adorable laugh of hers. He guessed he had a fun reaction, so he laughed with her.

"You cooked?"

"No, uh..." he opened the door a little bit more, expecting her to come inside, and explained that you did.

"She's here?" she asked in excitement, taking a look around.

"Yeah, she lives here."

Gwen's eyes widened, he wasn't sure what that meant but he really hoped she wasn't judging him. He heard the bathroom door slid open and relief washed over him.

"I won't say hi yet," you stated casually, towel wrapped around your body as you crossed the hallway towards your room, "'m naked."

The blonde frowned in response, turning to scan Peter's disheveled clothing and his wet hair. She raised her eyebrows after a while and he finally noticed the strange look, "What?"

"Nothing." she simply let out. 

The rest of the evening went incredibly well. He stopped feeling nervous when you took a seat next to him, putting your hand on his shoulder comfortingly to show him that you were there for him, if anything. And Gwen, well, she was still this charming, charismatic, funny person that he'd fallen in love with so many years back. 

"So, Gwen" You begun the first conversation, leaning on the counter to reach for the empty plates that you'd taken out for the occasion, "What brought you back to New York?"

Peter realized that you may need some help with taking out the food, so he stood up, holding your waist to let you know that he was passing by, and started cutting the chicken.

"Well, my youngest brother is graduating college" she begun to say, gaining a small hum from you as you set the table, "And I thought it was as good of an occasion as any to come and say hi."

From then, the conversation only escalated. First there were some casuals, 'Oh, and what did he study?', 'How's your mom doing?', 'How's it like living in London?' But then you were lost in thought, frowned, looked at your empty glass thoughtfully and let out...

"Does Philip still have a crush on me?"

Gwen bursted out laughing and Peter's light bulb lit up as he remembered exactly what you meant, "Oh my god! Fuck, you're so right!"

You smirked in response, eating a spoonful of your expertly cooked chicken, "He used to get so nervous whenever I came over. It was adorable!"

"I remember that one time... You want some?" he started saying, interrupting himself by gently filling your glass with wine, "...That one time I went over Gwen's for dinner, and you were there, and he didn't know you were there and he tripped over the couch when he saw you!"

"Oh man!" Gwen took hold of her forehead, chuckling, "Poor thing, we had to take him to the hospital because he actually broke his nose..."

"He actually-?"

"He did?!"

"Yeah," she nodded with a smile, "He made me promise not to tell you..."

"Oh, you're such a bad sister!" you exclaimed, pointing at her with your fork, "I will let him know that you betrayed him!"

It was easy to recall fun memories between the three of you, because every time you hung out, something just seemed to happen. Like when you arrived to the Midtown, and Gwen was assigned to stay with you or, in your words, "assigned to be your friend". Or when you had to be Peter's lab partner for a whole semester, and aunt May was so convinced that you'd end up together because she had never seen Peter bring home any other girl. Or when Peter defended a kid from Flash, and he got beaten up, and was saved by Gwen. 

And that conversation led to a bunch of anecdotes of how Peter was as a boyfriend, but seeing your roommate tense up, you came in to the rescue.

"Oh, I bet..." you were preparing yourself to tell some really embarrassing stories about him, when Gwen raised a fierce finger towards you and yelled:

"And don't get me started with you!"

She told Peter, to your dismay, about the amount of times you had stolen the answers for your exams to sell them to lower grades, or that you'd always figure out the latest, hottest gossip going around school. He had almost completely forgotten about the way you used to be. 

Less feisty, a lot quieter, shorter and as cunning as you could be. 

"Okay, I'll give it to ya', I was way worse than this boy..."

Peter didn't know, however, that you once tried to ask Flash fucking Thompson out on a date so your father would stop pestering you about not dating anyone.

"In my defense...!" you begun, leaving the glass on the table and raising your hands in mock surrender, "You guys were too busy smooching each other and I felt left out!"

"But Flash Thompson?" Peter inquired, indignation conquering his face.

"He was my first kiss!" you exclaimed. Both Peter and Gwen gasped in unison, "And I knew you guys would hate the idea! It's the reason why I was doing it in the first place!"

"I need to know more about that..." Gwen nodded, taking a small sip of her wine, "You never told me about it."

You sighed, "Since you stopped tutoring Flash when you started dating Peter, I was asked to do it and..." You looked away, feeling the blush creeping up your neck, "And I... Wasn't used to guys paying attention to me back then, so it took like two cute compliments for me to fold."

"Okay, but what did he say?" Peter wanted to know, still in utter shock.

"I don't remember?" you let out in an obvious tone, "I think something very cringy like 'You look so beautiful without your glasses' or 'You're not like other girls', something like that!"

"And you kissed him?"

"It was Flash Thompson!" you blurted out, blushing more, "And, actually, he kissed me."

Gwen let out an incredulous laugh. Peter rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He couldn't believe it, whispering, "I'm so glad you don't like men..."

"Aw, someone's jealous!" the blonde smiled sweetly. You frowned, tilting your head, but you smiled back nonetheless. It was a bit obvious that Gwen was getting tipsy, "You know? From all the people in New York City that you guys could have ended up with... I'm just glad you ended up together."

Peter choked on dessert. Your eyes widened. You expected him to be okay, but after thirty seconds of coughing, you had to pat his back awkwardly and begin to form the idea in your head.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, well..." Gwen shrugged, "I always thought you had a crush on him, which was the reason why I stopped talking to you when I left" To her complete obliviousness, your smile faded, "But now, thinking back, it was a bit of a dick move on my part, because of course you didn't jump on him right away. Now I'm just happy for you two!"

Peter drank half of his glass of wine and looked at Gwen, "We're not together."

The face that Gwen made was priceless. You bursted out laughing first, just because of her reaction. Yes, it was bittersweet that you were just finding out why you lost contact, but you could also understand how it must have sucked for her. 

"We just live together" he clarified, then pointed in your direction and stated, "She's a lesbian."

You frowned again, "'m not. I'm bisexual."

"You're bisexual?"

"Yeah!"

"How come you've only dated women?"

The face that you made left him speechless. You added, "As a fellow bisexual, I could ask you the same fucking thing."

Gwen bit her lip. She looked down at her food and then back at you, "So you never had a crush on Peter?"

Peter looked at you too. 

You seemed so done with both of them and immediately replied, "No." 

You lied, he took notice of it. 

Neither of you told Gwen the truth, as she kept speaking, "God, I'm such an idiot..."

But you changed the subject, finally asking about her husband. Her eyes lit up then, and she told you the whole story of how she had met Dane, who was apparently a sweetheart. She explained in depth how they had become friends first, then fallen in love, and how they've been married for a year. You felt Peter almost vibrate beside you. 

"What about you?" Gwen inquired, "Have you met anyone special?"

You immediately thought back to MJ, "It comes and goes, I guess."

Gwen pouted, then looked at Peter and you opened your mouth to speak again, to save him.

"Though, I'm talking to this girl..."

TAGLIST: @marcspectorondeeznuts @slutfortheblog @chaoticaptendytelet me know if you want in or out of the taglist<3

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - IN LOVING MEMORY

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] A week after John B and Sarah were lost at sea, you and JJ navigate a new living situation and unsuccessfully avoid the inevitable grief process, leading to a private memorial as you honor a fallen brother.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, grief avoidance

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think these little 3-chapter pauses between each season are gonna be my favorite things because it focuses sooo much more on just TR and JJ <3 but this first one really focuses on their grief over John B

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT’D BEEN A WEEK SINCE JOHN B AND SARAH DISAPPEARED. Shoupe said that the department wasn’t calling the search off just yet but you knew they weren’t looking. There’d been no updates, no boats out on the water — it was as if the entire station had retired. 

Metal clanked against wood as JJ set the wrench down on the work table — music playing lowly in the background as the blonde worked on your car. The two of you were in John B’s Surf Shack at The Chateau, the car halfway pulled in so JJ could work outside of the heat, but the sun was relentless. The hood was flipped up as the boy inspected and toyed with the parts — sweat dripping down his forehead from his damp strands of hair, shirt long abandoned as he stood only in a pair of army green cargo shorts and his signature worn-down, unlaced combat boots, shark tooth dangling from his neck.

“Are you gonna keep staring or do you wanna help?” JJ asked, leaning his hands on the exterior of the car, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked up at your figure that was sitting on top of the worktable, feet swinging as you watched him.

“When I tried to help, you told me to, and I quote, ‘sit my unhelpful ass down somewhere’.” You reminded the boy, cocking your head as you took a sip of the beer you’d retrieved from the house. 

“Maybe because when I asked you to hand me the box end wrench and you handed me a pair of pliers?” He sassed back, standing from his leaned over position and walking closer to you, snatching up his own beer and taking a long swig. 

You shrugged. “Same difference.”

“Hate to break it to you, princess, but no it's not.” JJ chuckled, leaning against the work table. His eyes drifted down to where you were scratching your ankle as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I told you like ten times to stop scratchin’ it. It ain’t gonna help.” He reprimanded, setting the beer down and taking your ankle in his hands, leveling it in front of him.

You groaned as he swatted your hand away. “But it itches, so bad.” You whined. “Probably because you did it with a needle and pen ink.” You pouted, both of you inspecting the small, scraggly ‘P4L’ tattoo on your ankle. “How come yours doesn’t itch?” You asked, referring to the matching tattoo the blonde had done on himself.

“It does.” He told you, pulling out a small thing of vaseline from his shorts and scooping some up on one of his fingers. “I’m just not a pussy.” He joked, side-eyeing you as he gently applied the jelly over the artwork. 

Just then, Marley came running into the shack, almost knocking JJ off of his feet. You bursted out into a fit of laughter as the blonde steadied himself, staring down the dog. “You fuckin’ mutt…” He muttered, letting your leg swing back towards you gently. 

“Hey,” You warned, plucking his arm. “Watch it, or I’ll have her piss on your pillows.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved off, walking out of the shack and into the afternoon sun. "I'm takin' a breather from your piece of shit on wheels. That thing needs way more than TLC..." He told you over his shoulder. You quickly hopped off the table and followed after him, whistling for Marley to follow your lead.

"Don't blame my car because you have the skills of a mechanic from Craigslist." You defended as JJ led you all the way down to the boat pier behind The Chateau, both of you sitting down on the wood, kicking off your shoes to let your toes hit the water. Marley laid down behind you two.

He chuckled lightly before you fell into silence. That’d been happening a lot lately. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. In the week you and JJ had been learning to live together at The Chateau, you’d grown to just sit in silence with him. Quiet mornings, lazy nights. Neither of you had to speak or force a conversation — just bask in the company of one another, knowing you still had someone. 

There were days like this — where things seemed almost normal, but only for a moment. But then it was as if you’d both simultaneously realize that nothing was normal and it probably never would be ever again, that realization never failed to cast a cloud over the atmosphere.

John B was gone. He wasn’t on another marathon from DCS, he wasn’t out cleaning boats to keep the lights on at The Chateau — he was just gone. And something inside of you felt so empty. Ever since you were kids, toddlers, it was always you, John B, and JJ. And even when you made each other mad or sad, you always came back together in the end.

Now, it was just the two of you. Sure, you had Kie and Pope but that was different. John B was their friend too but there was a deeper grief that they couldn’t understand. But JJ could.

“You remember, in third grade, when John B asked out that girl and she told him no ‘cause he had cooties?” JJ asked, a small smile on his features as he stared down at the water. You laughed, shaking your head.

“And when he tried to hug her she screamed and the teacher gave him a lecture about consent.” You laughed, looking up at the sun. “But maybe he needed it. I remember after, he apologized and shook her hand instead.”

“She still wouldn’t go out with him, though.”

“You wanna know something funny?” You asked, turning to face him as he looked at you. “I ran into her when I moved to Figure Eight. She lives on the lower end now. It’s so crazy because she ended up getting chlamydia from some guy and then passed it to his best friend.”

“Holy shit.” JJ laughed loudly, his bright smile on full display. You wished to see his smile like that more often. JJ usually tried to seem happy and carefree, but it was a sight to see when it was genuine. As his laughter died out, he had a look of contemplation on his face.

You nudged his shoulder to gain his attention. “What're you thinkin' about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, eyes scanning your face. You didn’t know what for. Then he reached into the pocket of his shorts, hand fishing around for a moment before he pulled out something — a pastel green dog collar with a heart shaped named tag. He laid the object out in his grease covered palm and extended it over for you to see.

Your eyes fleeted between the collar and his face, a look of nervousness as he avoided your eyes. Taking it from his hand to hold in both of yours, you huffed out a laugh. There were ridges on the edges, as if the fabric of the collar had been hand-cut. “...Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” He dismissed, scratching the back of his neck and attempting to seem nonchalant about the gesture. “I wasn't doing shit, got bored. If you, uh, if you turn it over-” You wasted no time, flipping the name tag to the other side, eyes landing first on the ‘if lost, please call…” note then drifting lower to see ‘P4L’ engraved in the metal beneath your phone number.

“Um, yeah that.” JJ finished. “It’s honestly nothing. It's fine if you think its stupid, I just figured-”

He never got to finish his nervous rambling as you pulled the boy into a hug. His arms staggered before hugging you back, going around your waist and almost pulling you into him. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his neck. "And it's not stupid. I love it." You could feel small tears leaving your eyes and making home on his sweaty skin, you just hoped he didn’t notice.

“Are you crying?” He asked, pulling back from the embrace and taking your face in his hands. “Oh, shit. Please, don’t cry.” He panicked, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving grease trails behind in their wake, the gesture making you chuckle sadly.

You don’t know what made you cry. You hadn’t cried in a full week. “Sorry, sorry...it's just that everything is so messed up.” You sniffed. “I wish I could go back to last year. Before my dad died, before all that shit with Rafe, before my mom became someone else, before John B...” You choked out, trying to remove your face from his hands but he wouldn’t let you. “If finding the gold means losing the only people I have left one by one, then fuck it.”

“We don’t know if he’s, y'know.. they’re still looking-”

“No, they’re not.” You scoffed. “They just don’t want to tell us that. Because if they do, they know we’ll start looking for ourselves and they’ll have four more dead kids on their hands.” You doubted, struggling to hold back more tears. JJ simply used his hold on your face to pull your head into him. Something about the gesture made you burst out into sobs, muffled by his chest. Most people would find such a genuine, serious gesture from JJ Maybank odd or rare. But in all your years of knowing him, JJ understood emotions better than most people, he just lacked the ability to show them sometimes.

He was there when they found your dad’s body, all of your friends were. The police only let you through because you were his daughter but when the wind blew the tarp off of his bloated, pale body, JJ was the only one who threw all caution to the wind and ducked under the caution tape, weaved through like ten police officers and caught you before you fell to your knees in the sand.

JJ was one of the most empathetic people you knew, but he’d never cater to his own needs as much as he did for others.

“I miss him, too.” He said solemnly, taking a shaky deep breath. “Believe me, man.” He scoffed, but his voice wavered prompting you to lift your head to look up at him, sniffling. “Bree was my brother. I can’t even tell you how many times he was just there for me. He got me out of a lot of shit and I always gave him shit for it. He would always tell me he just didn’t want me to end up like my piece of shit father and I was always such a dick about it. I knew it was because he cared but I…” He sighed, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from his eye with the butt of his palm. “I just wish I had been a better friend. I know I get us into a lot of shit and I’m impulsive and-”

“You were a good friend.” You cut off his monologue of martyrdom, sitting up straighter to look at him directly, using one hand to cup the back of his neck as you spoke. “John B loved you. Yeah, he might’ve gotten a little pissed whenever you got all trigger happy-” You joked, eliciting a small laugh from JJ. “-But he always understood that’s just who you are. He always cared about you all the same. He would’ve done anything for you.”

“And now he’s…shit, he’s gone.” He sniffed, wiping under his nose as he avoided your eyes, a frown on his face. “And I don’t have anyone like that anymore.”

“You have me.” You smiled pitifully. “I may not be a six-foot, brunette male who's oddly obsessed with bandanas but I think I can fill his spot. Make it work, somehow.” You joked playfully.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah, you have your own spot.” He told you, his blue eyes finally finding the courage to meet yours again. “No one could replace Bree. Or you. You were the two people I never wanted to lose in life. And now he’s gone and I don’t know what I’m feeling or what the fuck to do about it because I’ve never felt it before. And sure, I want to fight for him and get the gold back but now I’m scared that that might mean we lose someone else and I don't know what I’ll do if the person we lose is you.”

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “You’ll never lose me. Even if I’m not here.” You reminded, fingers scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck. “And even if John B is gone gone, he’s still here. Probably telling us to grow a pair, right now.” You chuckled despondently, both of you somewhere between laughing and crying.

All of a sudden, a wet, rough tongue hit the side of both of your faces — Marley apparently feeling left out from the exchange. The action had the two of you pulling apart, shielding your faces from the attack of dog kisses. She was like a light, her typical high energy making you feel just a little less sad inside. “Alright, alright…” You said, lightly pushing the dog back as she panted and wagged her tail so fast it made her whole body wiggle.

Just then, you realized you still had JJ’s gift clutched in your palm, peering at the object before beckoning Marley to come closer and commanding her to sit. She was still panting, mouth open and tongue out as you buckled the collar around her neck, adjusting it to fit and spinning it so the heart tag sat where it was supposed to, her name engraved in JJ’s handwriting.

As soon as your hands were off of her, she turned her attention to JJ, burying her head in his lap and rolling over on her back, wanting the blonde to rub her stomach. It was like she knew he’d made it for her.

“She must like you.” You said, voice a bit scratchy now. 

JJ shrugged, caressing the animal’s stomach with a small smile on his face. “I guess she’s alright.” He trailed off playfully. You admired them for a moment, the sight making your nerves settle in a way they hadn’t been able to in the last seven days.

For a moment, everything was calm. This was peace.

“Hey, JJ?” You piped up, the boy’s eyes leaving the dog as he looked at you in a questioning manner. “I know we’re waiting on Kie and Pope to actually memorialize JB but would you want to do something, just me and you? Not to leave them out or anything, I just thought we could, I don’t know, mourn him differently. He was a part of us.”

He pondered on the idea for a moment before nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I think he’d like that.”

You simply nodded in response, getting up from the dock to go into The Chateau, not even bothering to put your shoes back on. Entering the house, you looked around for something that sparked an idea on how you could honor John B. You spotted an empty glass bottle — write a note and send it out to sea? No. That didn’t seem right. 

Still looking around, your eyes found two tealight candles on the coffee table, untouched and never lit. You hadn’t recalled them being there before. Picking up the two candles in one hand, you headed back outside, the sun beginning to set and casting an orange hue over the water in front of you the closer you got to JJ and Marley.

Sitting back down, you handed one of the candles to JJ. “Just something small.” You told him, the blonde taking the small candle from you and reaching into his pocket to retrieve the lighter he typically carried with him. Marley had her head in his lap, less energetic than she was just minutes prior. Her big, puppy eyes just watched the two of you light the candles as the sun got lower in the sky by the minute.

“Should we, like, say something before we let them go?” JJ asked, eyes on you. 

“It’s up to you.” You shrugged. Just then, Marley got up from his lap, running through the grass and to the trees. You didn’t bother to chase her, she always came back.

JJ’s fingers of his free hand drummed on his thigh as he thought. When he finally had something, he shifted his weight and held the candle carefully in his hand. “To Bree.” He started, voice shaking. “My best friend, my brother, and the unluckiest guy I’ve ever met. I promise to not pimp your shortboard.” He said, looking at the flame swaying from side to side, before looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

Your nerves jumped a bit, not really knowing what to say. You figured something was better than nothing. “To John B. One of my greatest friends, my trauma twin, and the best DCS fugitive I’ve ever met.” You spoke, looking out at the sunset. 

“Love you, man.” JJ finished, reaching his long arm down to gently set the candle on top of the water, watching it slowly drift away. You followed his lead, having to bend down a bit further to let the candle hit the water safely. Both of you sat silently, watching the two miniscule flames drift further out with the waves. You wondered how far they would make it before they went out.

Suddenly, the patter of paws came running back, Marley wedging her way between the two of you with a stick between her teeth. The dog got dangerously close to the edge of the pier you were sitting on before letting the stick drop from her jaws and hit the water, sitting down between you and JJ as she panted.

You heard about cats leaving gifts for people of significance, maybe this was her version of a candle. The action made you and JJ look at each other before laughing and hugging the dog in sync. She reveled in the attention, tail wagging ferociously.

You and your friends had a long way to go before anything would feel okay again. But just having each other was enough, right now. You couldn’t rush grief. You’d just have to let things take their course and hopefully one day, John B wouldn’t be such a sad memory.

next chapter>

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©loveharlow.

[melodyanqel]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ── ✧ sh. (i. spring day)

congratulations! you have been invited to the romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will live with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out you are marrying your favorite idol?

✿ pairing: idol!seonghwa x fem!idol!oc

✿ genre/tags: fluff, developing relationship, idol au, fake marriage, reality show

✿ word count: 1.3k words

✿ note: the first chapter is here! i honestly wasn't expecting to grab so many people's attention or be interested in the story. but tysm and i hope you all enjoy!

✿ melodyanqel taglist: @hwa-stars @forever-atiny @moonvol6

❪ March, 2024 ❫

Spring awakens with a chatterbox of greens, cherry blossoms are bright and lively, and the winter snow uncovers a new beauty of nature.

The place is cozy with the delicious smell of fresh baked pastries, and brewing teas and coffee. Soon enough, a young beautiful woman steps inside the cafe like a radiant goddess.

All decked out in a spring outfit which consists of a pink flower dress, white cardigan, frilly socks, and black Mary Jane shoes. Her pretty face etched a timid smile. “Hello.” She politely greeted the employees behind the counter. 

But she didn’t notice that someone had been waiting for her. 

2 hours ago - KQ Building

“Okay, let’s take a ten-minute break!”

A male voice tells his seven members. He was panting heavily and paused the music on the computer. His aura gives off such confidence and demand yet with a loyal heart, like a true captain. Hongjoong takes a sip from his water bottle and his dark brown eyes watch his members. Some talked about the dance while some were lying on the floor to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Hongjoong notices a bright red object outside. The practice room’s door was a bit see-through, so he could spot it clear as day. Hongjoong puts down the water bottle on the desk to check it out. 

As soon as the captain takes a look, a whole PD crew is in front of him. A big smile draws on his handsome makeup-free face. “Oh! Hello!” Hongjoong politely greeted. The producer points at the red mailbox by the door to take it. Hongjoong snickers and brings in the object.

“What is that, hyung?” 

The maknae, Jongho, his eyes widened owlishly at the mysterious mailbox. Yunho, San, and Wooyoung looked bewildered at their captain.

Hongjoong shrugged. “I don’t know, but we will find out together. Everyone in the middle.” He tells them and they obey his command. After setting down the mailbox, Hongjoong opens it to pull out a pink envelope with a sticker sealing the letter. 

Yeosang’s eyes brighten. “Guys, look! It’s from We Got Married if you remember the show.” He points his finger at the iconic logo as a sticker. 

Mingi furrowed his full eyebrows. “There’s a new season?” The deep-voice rapper is bemused. Hongjoong responded, “Let’s see if you are correct, Mingi-ya.” He tears open the envelope to read the letter inside. 

Congratulations!

You are selected to join Korea’s #1 romance reality show “We Got Married” where you’ll spend a whole year with your co-star, living as a married couple. We will be sure to provide safety and care throughout the love journey. Plus, there are missions and thrilling events along the way. We hope you have a happy and healthy marriage, 🐰⭐

The emojis reveal who is chosen as the husband and groom. 

“Eh?! Seonghwa hyung?!” San perks his head at the oldest member.

Instantly, all eyes were on him. Seonghwa is speechless with boba eyes popping out of his socket. 

But within seconds, the members all burst out cheering for him. Jongho carries the still-shocked Seonghwa in bridal style and twirls him. Yunho and Mingi played with the lights while Hongjoong, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung did a conga line and chanted, “Park Seonghwa is getting married!” 

After their mini-celebration, the group sat on the floor and discussed the future of Seonghwa’s future marriage. The PD crew even asked him who would be the lucky bride and sister-in-law. They all assumed it would be someone close to Seonghwa’s ideal type. But he admits to them, “I honestly don’t mind if they are not because I’ll still love them for who they are.” His response made the guys awestruck.

“Wow, hyung. I didn’t know you were that manly.” Jongho spoke with sarcasm. 

The guys laughed out loud when Seonghwa sighed in displeasure. 

He has the letter in his hands and keeps looking at it. Hongjoong could sense the uneasiness of his best friend. The captain pats the oldest’s right shoulder. “Hey, you should be excited. Why are you so nervous for?” He giggles lightheartedly. Seonghwa can get nervous, but this is the most he has ever been. 

His skittish behavior caught everyone’s attention. They had worrisome faces because Seonghwa was more than the oldest member of ATEEZ. He is like their big brother, whose gentleness and softness have so much adoration by many. Seonghwa shares his thoughts. “There was a moment when we talked about relationships. You all considered that I’ll be the best husband to my spouse. So, I’m uncertain if I can live up to the statement.” He confesses his vulnerability. 

Yunho is on his right and pats his other shoulder like Hongjoong. “You’ll do great, hyung. Not everyone is perfect or understands how marriage works at first. We also don’t know as well. But we can give you support and help if you need it.” He assured Seonghwa. 

Of course, they’re ATEEZ and more than just a group. 

A family and a safe place. 

Wooyoung hops out of his spot to back-hug Seonghwa. “We love you, hyung! We want you to be happy!” He presses a sweet kiss on the eldest forehead. Seonghwa grimaced by his overly affectionate friend. In a sincere voice, “Thank you.” He says and is forever grateful. In unison, the guys came to Seonghwa in a big, suffocating group hug.

“Yah!! I can’t breathe!!” He yells out loud and tries to move himself. Despite literally getting crushed by love, he is enjoying it. 

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

-Interview-

Replacing the casual look with a dapper appearance, Seonghwa sits on the stool and is wearing a refined dark gray blazer, white dress shirt, black pants, and dress shoes. His ebony locks are elegantly curled and set in place. 

“Hello, I’m Seonghwa of ATEEZ.” The man’s deep, velvety greets the viewers that are watching. 

Q. Are you familiar with We Got Married?

Seonghwa nodded. “Yes. I didn’t fully watch the show when it aired because I was still in school and training under the company. I’ve only seen clips of legendary artists paired up, and I was intrigued by how they handle marriage while having an idol life.” 

Q. Do you think you’ll live up to your group’s statement?

A sheepish laugh escapes from his plump lips. “At first, I thought it was a joke because we make up silly sayings. But I didn’t expect it to come true.” He takes a deep breath to compromise himself. “I’ll do whatever I can to make my wife feel like she is the luckiest woman.” Seonghwa declared genuinely. 

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Mission of The Day: Try to surprise your bride.

When the producer explained about the task, Seonghwa was giddy yet anxious. He’ll disguise himself as a barista at a dog-centric cafe and surprise his future bride. 

After freshening up, as in putting Seonghwa in a uniform and a mask to hide his face, the PD crew drives him to the destination. A camera on the headliner records him texting his members. Seonghwa says, “My group is eager.” He chuckles merrily. “They want all the information about today. It feels like they’re my parents.” In which, he is unsure to tell them about this reality show. 

Will he introduce his wife to his family?

Even though it’s for entertainment, Seonghwa becomes curious if they’re interested to know more about his fake spouse. Well, that has to wait. He brushes it off and cares more about the current time.

Subsequently, the producer announced the arrival at The Wal’z dog cafe. “We are here. Good luck, Seonghwa.” They give him their best wishes. He thanked them wholeheartedly because he hadn’t stopped the nerves from skyrocketing. 

When he enters the place, he is greeted by adorable furry friends. “Hi~” Seonghwa immediately bends down to pet their soft fur. “Wow. I feel less nervous now.” He is convinced that he just needs some comfort from the dogs. 

Seonghwa pouts, “I’m sorry. I have to work now.” He apologizes to the smiling furballs. However, they didn’t seem to care because they wanted pets. 

Eventually, the male idol begins his mission by heading to the counter and pretending to act like he is a barista. Although it may be for the show, Seonghwa actually wanted to learn how to make the drinks and pastries. 

He’ll possibly make them for his wife. 

series masterlist

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 6

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,318

TW:MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! (TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, MY WRITING IS NOT WORTH YOUR HEALTH), Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Panic Attacks, Hurt Comfort, SUI ATTEMPT, Crying, Really Depressing, lots of POV swaps, Not Edited

A/N: Thank you for all of the support that I’ve been getting for this story, this chapter is really heavy… PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Please do not read if it will negatively impact your health, this story on tumblr is not worth it. I’ll put a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter, for those who need to skip. This is probably the worst that it will get. Love you guys so much 🥰

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I woke up to Chris wrapped around my waist, just like I had for the last seven months. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this facade, but I also don’t know if I can let it go. The worst part is that I can’t even vent to my best friend, seeing as he is the cause of this whole situation. I stare down at Chris, his hair is so soft. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, trying best to stop them from falling. Failing miserably.

My sniffles cause Chris’s to lift his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I tell him it’s nothing, not a big deal. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, he sits up looking deep into my eyes. “You can tell me anything Y/N, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or anything.” I just cry harder. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I burrow my face into his shoulders.

we stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. I cry until I physically can’t anymore, Chris doesn’t make me explain myself.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I barely sleep anymore.

Y/N has been drifting away for months now, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m scared that if I fall asleep she’ll sneak past me and relapse. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost her, I don’t know who I would be.

I’m scared to leave her alone, to the point that I don’t even want to leave her to go film with my brothers. The fans have commented on how many videos we’ve made at our house, rather than our usual car videos. I just tell Matt and Nick that I feel bad leaving her alone without us.

I knew it was a mistake to leave her alone tonight, but the fans were getting suspicious. We made the decision not to tell the fans, since we didn’t plan for this charade to go on for so long. I don’t know if I can end it, I’m too in love with her to imagine laying in an empty bed again.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV (start of the really bad stuff)

The guys left to film a car video, it’s been months since they did that. I haven’t been alone long enough to think about relapsing, but sitting alone in Chris’s room, the feeling of loneliness is crushing me.

I need to distract myself. Chris would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t, and I can’t call him while he’s recording. I’ll cook myself something for dinner, the guys will be happy to eat when they get home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Dinner came and went, and I still didn’t feel better. I was scared to call Chris, I didn’t want to bother him and his brothers. It was a mistake.

I stare down, my legs tore to shreds and the wounds on my wrists, I need help. I don’t think I really want to die, I was just overwhelmed. I can’t let them find me dead. I can’t make them hurt the same way that I have. I need to call someone.

I reach for my phone, trying desperately to open it. The blood on my hands makes everything harder, but I can’t get up to get a towel. If I stand up I’ll surely pass out. I’m already lightheaded, just hoping that Chris answers my call.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I’m laughing with my brothers and I don’t notice it at first. A small buzz in my pocket. There it is again. As soon as I pull it out I panic.

LOML 🥰 CALLING… ✅ ❎

“Guys! Stop talking real quick.” I immediately press the answer button. “Baby… is everything okay?”

No response. Fuck.

“Matt we need to go home.” He gives me a worried look, but before he can say anything I’m talking into the phone again. “Baby, I need you to talk to me… tell me everything is okay.”

there’s a second before she responds, I can tell that she’s been crying based on the sniffles from her end. “I fucked up Chris.”

My heart drops.

“go faster Matt!” Fuck. “What happened, I need you to tell me what you did!” I don’t mean to yell, but I’ve never been more scared in my life.

“I don’t want to die…” No. This isn’t real. It cant be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I promise.” I quickly turn to nick and tell him to get 911 on speed dial. “Please just keep talking to me, I need to hear your voice.”

Matt breaks multiple laws in an attempt to get home, but I don’t notice. My whole focus is on keeping Y/N talking. When we get home we all rush upstairs.

“Nick, go sit in the loft.” He looks offended when I say it. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I let you.” He stays where he is. “Please Nick!” My voice cracks as I say his name. He leaves with tears In his eyes.

“Matt I need you to get the first aid kit from under her bed, it should have everything I need.” With that I open the door to the bathroom.

the scene in front of me is like something straight out of a horror film. I can’t even tell where the blood is coming from. I immediately rush to her side.

“I’m so sorry… I tried to distract myself, I promise.” She’s rambling, but I don’t mind. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but she looks so pale.

“don’t apologize, I’m not mad, nobody is mad” it doesn’t stop the tears, she’s still a sobbing mess beneath me.

Matt returns with the kit, clearly distraught. “It’s okay Matt, it doesn’t look like she needs stitches.” He looks frozen in place, and his breathing is erratic. Shit. “Go sit with nick… she’s going to be okay.” After a few moments he finally pulled himself out of the doorway.

by the time I’m done cleaning her up, Y/N’s tears have dried up. “You don’t need stitches…” I stare at the deep lines that run across each wrist. “But it would make the scars smaller, do you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!” She’s shaking her head violently. “Please don’t make me go, they’ll take me away again!” I can see the tears forming again.

“ok, we don’t have to go.” I grabs the butterfly bandages, and start pulling the skin together, before tightly wrapping it with gauze. She’s more covered in gauze wrapping than actual clothes at this point. I carry her to my room and get her changed, before taking her to the loft.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Chris changed me, being very gentle around my gauze, and then he set me down on the loft couch next to Nick and Matt. I hear him mumble something about them staying with me while he cleans up.

I can see the relief in Nicks eyes when he sees that I’m alive, Matt just locks eyes with me and leaves. I never meant to upset him, but I can’t seem to find the tears for it right now. I fall into nicks chest and he just holds me.

I tell Nick everything. The relapse. The fake dating ruse. The fact that I really do love Chris.

He just tells me that it’s okay. He promises me that he’s not mad.

Once Chris is done cleaning the bathroom floor, he takes me to lay down in his bed. He’s so gentle when he snakes his arms around me, careful not to hit my arms or legs.

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

[smutinlove]

Masterlist

Dedicated to my dirty whores <3 @jas2010 @carlsdarling @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @hiro--aoki

A cute masterlist showing ALL my dirty smut, fluff, and angst &lt;3

I'm UselessBitch4205 on Wattpad <3

rules for requesting

I write for:

-Carl Grimes

-Dick Grayson

-Jason Todd

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suggestive—Eyes apparently don't lie

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Fluff—Reader writes a love letter/appreciation letter

Fluff-Cabin—Carl Grimes asks to marry you

Fluff—CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

Fluff—NEW YEAR SPECIAL (2024)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Angst—Carl, Rick, and Glenn notice that the reader hasn't been eating/sleeping. They force an intervention.

Angst—Reader cries about Carl's death

Angst—Reader dies. Carl cries. (Lineup)

Angst—Reader hurts herself. Carl comforts her.

Angst —Carl comforts an insecure reader. SH WARNING

Angst leading to fluff—Carl goes on a scavenging trip but gets lost. The reader goes to look for him.

Angst—After Negan kills readers father figure, Glenn Rhee, she and Carl start to fight a lot. One day, after an intense fight, Negan suddenly arrives to Alexandria. He manipulates the reader to Carl.

Angst/fluff—Dad figure Glenn. Carl hangs out with Enid a lot, making the reader jealous. !argument

Angst/fluff—Shy/sensitive reader. Carl and reader fight because she sneaks out and Rick scolds Carl, making him apologize.

Angst/fluff—Dad figure Glenn. Reader runs away because she hates Enid and her father figure adopted her. Carl finds her.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

WORDS BURN HARD: CARL GRIMES X FEM!OC

Chapter One: The Woods

Chapter Two: Undetected

Chapter Three: Solitude

Chapter Four: a secret

Chapter Five: I watch as you're leaving

Chapter Six: Meddlsome

Chapter Seven: The Journal

Chapter Eight: A caged boy

Chapter Nine: Lavenders

Chapter Ten: Little Blue light

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Small Series

You were my light part 1 —The daughter of the now dead Negan Smith is walking in the woods. She thought she was alone. But she wasn't.

You were my light part 2

You were my light part 3

You were my light part 4

You were my light part 5

You were my light ALTERNATIVE ENDING—The daughter of Negan Smith wakes up from what she thought was real but was a dream. She wants to find him. Y/N Smith wants to find Carl Grimes.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Dick Grayson

NSFW Alphabet—for the ladies who noticed the lack of dick grayson content.

King of my heart—You and him cannot be together. You two are from different worlds. !Fem!Knight!reader x !Prince!Dick Grayson.

SFW Alphabet—for the ladies who know dick grayson is just another softie <3

Breeding Kink—Dick sees how good you are with Roy's daughter and wants to put a baby in you.

Dick Grayson: first anniversary headcanons—this is cute. dick grayson is a gentleman. !gender neutral reader

College!Dick Grayson headcanon—he would do it to your fav song. he's snarky, he's THE shit. and he's mine <3

In the shower—Sex in the shower. What's better than that?

Safeword—Dick and Jason headcanons to you using the safeword.

Wayne Gala with a twist—Dick sees men staring at you but he wants them to know that YOU are HIS. (Basically hot sex in bruce's office)

Missed me?—an injured nightwing comes home... he's in a teasing mood.

Belt loops—Dick is a little handsy sometimes. PDA? That's his thing.

Insecurities —Fem!reader

Mission gone wrong—A simple mission. How'd you two end up married?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Jason Todd

NSFW Alphabet—you know what this is, love.

Training Room—sweaty jason todd is a NEED.

More size k!!nk headcanons

The Rooftop—You convince Jason to not jump.

size k!!!nk—jason "size kink" todd headcanons. ugh, he's scrumptious.

Notebook—You're a journalist, he's Jason Todd. Do I need to say more? fem!reader

Trinity—Jason and Carl Grimes don't fuck. They fuck you. (Threesome)

Random Headcanons—a bunch of silly little headcanons

Safeword—Dick and Jason headcanons to you using the safeword.

Amusement Park—fluff. You and Jason and a few friends are at an amusement park. Jason spots a haunted house. Things turn interesting.

Wayne Gala Headcanons—Jason taking you to the Wayne Gala.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Draco Malfoy

Smut —Sex with the Slytherin prince.

Smut—Your secret boyfriend is Draco Malfoy.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Glenn and Maggie

Fluff—It's some cute fluff. (Glenn and Maggie are badasses in this too)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

WORDS BURN HARD - BY UselessBitch4205 on Wattpad <3

[ldrfanatic]

i think your house is haunted

Theodore Nott x Reader "13" Series pt 6

warnings - death, alteration to the original harry potter storyline (slight for now, will become major in the following chapters)

translator series masterlist <previous next chapter>

slytherin boys masterlist works

Theo had no idea why he'd agreed to this. Deep down, he knew that running from his father was an effort in vain. And when he finally found them, Y/n would be killed. He knew. But looking at the beautiful girl across from him, he wasn't sure he cared.

The pair of you had been on the run for a few weeks now. Occasionally, you'd get an owl from one of the Greengrass sisters. They'd been keeping tabs on you and updating you on the flip side of the war. And Theo, too smitten with the light in your eyes that the letter brought, didn't have the heart to tell you how dangerous it was. Soon, you wouldn't be able to send or receive owls from anyone.

One night, as Theo was preparing dinner in the kitchen of your most recent hideout, a black owl came in through the open window and dropped a piece of folded up parchment onto the kitchen table in front of you. He watched as you unfolded the letter and further, as tears gathered in your eyes.

"Dolcezza? What's happened?" He approached you and took the letter from your hands.

My Dearest Friend,

I write to you with a heart heavy with fear, for I know not where you are or how you fare in these dark times. Every moment that passes without word from you is a torment I cannot bear. I know that you are clinging desperately to hope amidst the encroaching shadows that threaten to consume us all.

Theodore Nott is entwined in the sinister tapestry of his father's legacy, a fate he cannot escape. My heart aches for him, for the innocence lost, for the boy he once was now overshadowed by the sins of his bloodline. But my dear friend, I implore you, do not sacrifice yourself for that boy and his doomed fate.

The Death Eaters draw ever closer, their malevolent presence looming like a specter over all we hold dear. I fear for Theo, I fear for you, I fear for us all. I know your heart yearns to protect Theo, to shield him from the cruel hand of fate. But there is nothing more we can do for him now. They will not rest until they have him and your defiance will only lead to tragedy. Do not let your love for him condemn you both.

Please, my dear friend, heed my words. Return to Hogwarts where we can face this darkness together. Leave Theo to his fate, for there is nothing else we can do for him now. I cannot bear to lose you, not now, not ever.

With all my love,

Astoria Greengrass

As he finished looking over the letter, glass shattered in the living room and heavy footsteps were heard.

"They've found us."

Two rather nasty looking men in dark robes came into view. They pointed their wands directly at you and Theo. Immediately, you began to cry. But Theo stood with a ticked jaw and resolve present in his eyes. "Mulciber. Macnair." He walked over to where the half-prepared dinner sat on the counter and took a few french fries into his mouth. "I must say I'm a bit surprised my father didn't come himself."

Mulciber took a step closer to them and and cocked his head at Theo. His wand was inches from your head and Theo's heart dropped. Macnair smiled evily. "Now now Theodore. Be a good boy and come with us. We'll leave the poor girl be."

Theo stared between you and the Death Eaters for a few long seconds. Suddenly, your short sobs turned into irrepressible laughter. Mulciber inched closer to you with a confused look. "Think this is funny you stupid girl?"

Your eyes locked with his and you smirked. "Yes actually. You don't know it yet. You haven't got the pleasure of knowing him the way I do. But when all this is over, he will kill you."

Theo felt pride looming in his chest. A sadistic smile flittered along his lips. "Darling, perhaps now is not the best time for flirting." He watched as you shrugged carelessly. Then, just as Theo taught you, you swung your fist into Mulciber's face and a sickening crunch sounded. Theo pulled his wand from his pocket and fired a quick curse at Macnair who blocked it at the last second.

He felt your small hand grasp his own and pull him into a nearby broom cupboard. As the door shut, darkness enveloped. You only remained in the small space for a few seconds as Theo held you close to his chest and you disapparated from the scene. Once he felt his feet touch the floor, he immediately pulled you into a deep kiss.

Standing there, watching you almost die, Theo finally admitted something to himself that he'd been avoiding. It was time for the pair of you to strike back. It wasn't enough to hide away in the shadows. Something had to be done. Theo was determined not to leave you, ever. But if that was going to be the case, then he had to get rid of the one person threatening you. Nott Sr.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah Theo?"

"I'm done waiting."

You tried to ignore the hustle and bustle of dozens of people crowded around the Weasley Burrow. You also tried to ignore the feeling that you were putting all these people in danger. It was finally time for Bill and Fleur's wedding, and Mrs. Weasley had created the most beautiful set up for the event.

As you stood out looking at the rolling hills, a small throat cleared behind you. When you turned, Hermione was standing there in a red dress, her hair pulled back.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Seeing as she'd started dating Draco Malfoy in fifth year, you supposed Hermione was probably one of the only people who could possibly understand why you were doing the things you were.

"Theo wants to take the fight to his father." It wasn't hard to see that she clearly did not want to talk about the scenery. Hermione had been a friend of yours throughout your years at Hogwarts. When she started dating Draco, you'd grown a little closer, but not much. "That's understandable."

You turned to her finally with a furrowed brow.

"Is it? It seems to me like he's just going to get himself killed."

Hermione shook her head and hugged you close to her. It was nice to know that you had at least one friend on your side through the coming war.

"Theodore may bear the burden of his father's sins, but he is not his father. He loves you deeply, fiercely. And he wants the threat of his father to be gone because he cannot bear the thought of any harm coming to you. He will not rest until you are safe."

As Hermione spoke, you knew she was right. Theo's father was a threat to the both of you.

"What if we can't win?"

"I'm not sure. I wish I could be of comfort. But whether you win or not, at least you'll have fought the battle together." Hermione grew quiet and looked down at her shows. "It's a privilege I wish Draco wouldn't of denied us."

It was your turn to hug Hermione.

"It's alright, Y/n. I know that we'll have another chance. I won't rest until we can live happily, free from Voldemort's influence."

"Neither will I."

The wedding reception was in full swing after a beautiful ceremony. You were dancing with Theodore, who looked rather handsome in his black suit. The dark green button down underneath made his eyes pop just the way you liked. You leaned closer to him and laid your head against his collar bone.

Just as he leaned to whisper something in your ear, a patronus burst through the roof of the tent. All the guests stared on in mortification as the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt filled the room.

"The ministry has fallen. They are coming."

Instant panic flooded the room as wizards and witches began disappearing, some disapparating and others simply fleeing on foot. Seconds later, clouds of black smoke were tumbling about with evil laughter bounding through the air. In the chaos of the crowd, Theo's being slipped away from your own.

"Theo?! THEO!"

You cried out helplessly into the air but the noise level was much to loud. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappear with a twist followed by a loud pop. Still, no sign of Theodore.

In a blink, Mulciber appeared in front of you, crooked teeth twisted into his disgusting smile. "Well, well. Funny seeing you here, pretty girl." He fired a curse at you that you narrowly deflected.

He was much older and therefore much more experienced than you. His curses and jinxes quickly grew too much to block and before you knew it, you were backed into a corner. On one side, Mulciber, and on the other, Greyback. You ducked as they each fired the cruciatus curse at you. The two curses met in the middle with a firey red boom.

Just as you made to run, green flashed and Mulciber dropped dead. You looked up at your rescuer to find Theodore stepping over his thick body and drawing his wand on Greyback. Apparently, he hadn't expected Theo to act so ruthlessly. The wolf smoked out within the minute, bursting through the cloth ceiling of the tent, multiple Death Eaters following behind him.

With the chaos finally subsiding, Theo pulled you into his arms.

"Where are you going, Theo?"

You reached out sleepily for your boyfriend who'd slipped out of his place in bed next to you. Mrs. Weasley had been kind enough to let you stay at the Burrow until the two of you figured out your next move. In the past two days, you'd grown quite close to Ginny Weasley, who often kept you company while Theo chattered off with Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Just to the bathroom, cara mia."

The answer was satisfying enough and you rolled over to face the wall.

In the darkness of the room, Theo stumbled. His vision clouded with tears.

When you awoke the next morning to an empty bed, panic filled you. After searching the Burrow for nearly an hour, and still no sign of Theo, you began to fear the worst.

"He's not here, Y/n."

Ginny's voice sounded from behind you. When you turned, the redhead was looking at you oddly. She seemed... sad.

"What?"

She held out a folded piece of parchment towards you. You took the note with shaking fingers, unfolding it to see Theo's familiar handwriting.

Y/n, I want you to know that leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It tore me apart to walk away, but I had to do. My father has become a problem that I can no longer ignore, and it's a burden that I cannot allow you to bear. You deserve so much more than to be dragged into the mess that is my family. I beg of you, my love, take care of yourself. Surround yourself with people who cherish and protect you. You are a light in my life, and I can't bear the thought of that light dimming because of me. I promise you, I will return. Please believe in me, and please forgive me for leaving you behind. It was the hardest decision I've ever made, but it was the only one I could make.

Until we meet again, know that you are always in my thoughts and in my heart.

With all my love,

Theo

---

4.22.2024

taglist @moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

[hellbornsworld]

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2) ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

✨Hostess | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 47 Parts | Completed

"A whore is someone who sells their body; a hostess is someone who entertains guests to make them feel welcomed and loved. There is a difference."

✨𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐑 | BTS | No Reader | Author : godlycurse | 140 Parts | Completed

In which Kim Taehyung tweets at a Dora the Explorer twt account and gets a creepy dm from them. Soon , he realizes he got himself into some deep sh*t and has to discover who's behind the account before it's to late.

✨Survival | BTS X OC | 1000% | Slow Burn | Author : BangtanArmies | 155 Parts | Completed

A tragic love story filled with pain, betrayals, miseries and deadly plot twists.

✨Buttons | BTS X Reader | Coraline!AU | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 31 Parts | Completed

"Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You're too clever and too beautiful for them to understand. They don't even remember your name."

✨ Mask Parade | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 33 Parts | Ongoing

"Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."

✨killjoy | Only BTS | Author : taenology | 50 Parts | Completed

a computer game can't hurt anyone, right?

✨The Keeper's Tale | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

They witnessed her destruction, They were left to wonder why, She saw nothing but darkness, Though the stars shown in her eyes, But maybe they'd forgotten, When they failed to see the cracks, That a stars light shines brightest, When it starts to collapse.

✨Singularity | BTS x Reader | Author : mociminji | 36 Parts | Ongoing

You were stolen by the devil. He claimed you as his own. Little did he know, you are going to be the death of him.

✨The Seven | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

"I'm crazy? No, darling. What's crazy is that the world refuses to let me be with you."

✨Black Swan | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 17 Parts | Ongoing

"What are you going to do to me now, Swan?"

✨The 7 Princes | BTS X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 82 Parts | Completed

Surprise! Your parents have been keeping a secret from you - you are royal princess and sole heir to the throne. To break the news to you, your parents have sent you to a neighboring kingdom where seven handsome, irresistible princes will teach you all you need to know about becoming the next ruler.

✨The Blue Eyes Series | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 4 Books | Ongoing

# BOOK 1 The Four Kingdoms |

There's a fire in her. If loved correctly, she will warm your entire home. If abused, she will burn it to ash.

# BOOK 2 Pyramids |

She didn't need a crown, because she wasn't a queen.... She was a goddess.

# BOOK 3 Dynasty |

You can say she's crazy, but her eyes see the spirits of the past.... She talks to them.... And they talk back.

# BOOK 4 Mist |

You watch her walk away and it hits you that she is an entire ocean And you were wrong, so very wrong Because you let her go Thinking she was just a girl

✨Gods of the Sea | BTS!Vocal Liner X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 87 Parts | Completed

"My name is Captain Jeon Jungkook. I'm here to kidnap you."

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7 boys, 7 chapters, 7 different stories

✨Oh My Gospel! | BTS X Reader | Author : mociminji | 88 Parts | Ongoing

In which you are a prude theology student and one day, your sneaky twin brother sent you a link to the livestream of an infamous camboy, Park Jimin.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Other Posts:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION (1)

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JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

You can call me, Sir.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific chapter warnings : Failed CPS case, implied abuse with belt, clothes shopping (I tried my best to be as body neutral as possible), sugar daddy Arron, sales lady is rude towards reader, Things are getting spicy, first rules, use of pet names, reader is described as having hair long enough to sweep over one shoulder, trying on clothes, Let me know if I need to add anything!

A/N: The amount of love that has been shown for this story so far has absolutely filled my heart! I’m sorry this chapter took a minute to come out, I got married last week sooooo 😍 that slowed the process down a little. Haha 💜

*~*~*~*~*~*

9 years ago

The worst part was the way her nose stung, like a million tiny needles stabbing her all at once. But she had to breath through it, because only selfish, weak, incompetent people cried. So she forced her thoughts solely on the older woman who sat across from her, her grey hair loose around her shoulders, and the bright pink blazer she wore with matching skirt. ‘I think name is Deloris?’

Not what you would have thought when you heard the term ‘CPS worker’. She smiles at the young teen as if she was Y/n’s best friend and there isn’t a care in the world as her fountain pen taps against her yellow notepad. “You’re mother must have been a lovely woman.”

A muscle in Y/n’s jaw twitches, but she manages to return Deloris’ smile briefly. “She was.”

“So is that really the reason you have been skipping school?” Her green eyes were full of mock sympathy, and Y/n can only assume how many of these ‘troubled teen cases’ she has had to work.

“Yes ma’am.” It was the 8th anniversary of Y/n’s mother’s death. Today. She can hear her father in the other room, moving about the kitchen, pretending to not be listening through the thin walls. Y/n squeezes the pillow in her lap tighter to her churning stomach, already anticipating how the rest of the night will go.

“I’m sorry, dear. I know losing a loved one can be hard, but that doesn’t mean we can go about making things hard for the ones we still have.” Deloris tilts her head, her lips in a slightly pout as she regards Y/n, who only bites her cheek to keep quiet. She drops her chin to her chest, fanning shame with a small nod, placating the woman. “Good. I’m going to go talk with your father now, I hope you understand the severity of the situation you’ve almost caused. I expect to hear you are in school tomorrow.”

Deloris doesn’t take long in the kitchen with Y/n’s father, her pitchy laughter grating on Y/n’s ears. Her father escorts the worker to the door, his hair is combed, beard neat and he’s dressed still in his work clothes. A fitted grey collard shirt and jeans. His usual Forman outfit. At one point in Y/n’s life she can remember thinking her dad had been very handsome, but that had all been before the drinking.

“Have a good evening Miss. Deloris.” Her fathers southern accent is always laid on heavy whenever he is trying to impress someone, or to get his way. And for most of his life it worked well. Y/n wonders sometimes if that is how he had charmed her mother.

As the pine door shut, Y/n closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath before the storm. When she opens her eyes again, she’s staring at the brown tweed couch across from her, out of the corner of her eye she can see her father’s still form in the archway of the living room.

The sound of leather hissing through his denim belt loops makes her stomach drop, her breath quicken in her already tight chest. “Gone an got me in trouble huh?” He folds the worn leather over in his hands, snapping it together watching as she jumps in her seat. Her gaze remains focused on the spot Miss. Deloris had occupied, the old springs and cushioning holding her shape. “You ain’t learned trouble girl.”

Present Day

It’s almost unbearable how cold it is outside, the dark clouds over head threatened to snow on the busy sidewalk as you shove your hands as far into your jacket as they will go. Aaron is pressed against your side, his arm wrapped around your back, directing you through the crowd and to the front of a large store.

Chic’s End

Your nose scrunches slightly at the different mannequins in the brightly lit windows who’s clothing is on the higher end of fashion. Pieces you’d never find in your own wardrobe. Aaron guides you towards the door but you stop abruptly shaking your head. “Hotch, aren’t there places a little less… fancy?” Your tone gives away your discomfort as you scan the nearly empty store.

Aaron sighs, stepping around you so he can look you in the eye. “Rule number one: call me Aaron when it’s just the two of us, Hotch is too formal. Now I’m sure there are, but you deserve to be a little spoiled…” He pauses, his phone vibrating in his pocket making him frown. “Now go inside, let me check this and I’ll be right in.” As he fishes for his phone he pulls open the door for you, letting you walk in with a small head rush.

‘Our first rule?’

You take the moment you have some to look around the store front, a few customers are mingling about the rows of clothing, associates putting away inventory or helping their guests. A brunette is standing at the register, her hair sprayed and pinned into a tight bun atop her head. She glances at you, her nose turned up at your simple outfit, without a word of welcome she goes back to her work.

The door is opening a moment later, a small bell going off as Aaron steps in, the icy breeze trying to follow. “Sorry, David was checking in.” His voice reaches the woman at the counter, grabbing her attention. She watches as he shrugs out of his winter jacket, her gaze fixing on the flash of jewelry on his wrist with a smile.

“Is he okay?” You ask, handing Aaron your own jacket as he hangs them on a coatrack.

“Oh yes, he’s-.”

“Good afternoon, is there anything I can help you with?” You turn, the same woman from before now standing in front of you. She’s wearing a form fitting black dress, the apparent dress code for the establishment, a silver name tag pinned to her collar reading ‘Denise.’ Gone is her dismissive attitudes from before, her blue eyes staring intently at Aaron with a sly smile.

You feel something in your chest squirm, making you take a step in front of Aaron as you pull your best smile into place. “Oh thank you, but we are just-.”

A warm hands is suddenly on your shoulder, pulling you into Aaron’s side. “We’re looking for some work attire; blouses, pants, skirts and such. Along with more casual wear.” He squeezes your shoulder as you slide him a disgruntled look.

Denise regards you with a tight lipped smile, nodding her head slightly. “Of course. Right this way.” She turns on her heel, an extra sway in her her step that makes you roll your eyes as you pull out of Aaron’s grip following her. He follows behind a few paces, regarding you with masked amusement.

She takes you to the back of the store, pointing out the sections of racks you’ll need and where on the walls you can find work appropriate pants and skirts. Denise turns to Aaron once again, stepping to close for comfort as she stares openly at his suit. “You know, we have the latest in Brioni’s suit jackets that I think would complement you rather well, Mr…” She brushes her hand against his arm and your eyes widen.

“No thank you. I’ll let you know if we need any further assistance.” Aaron comes to stand beside you, his expression hard to read as he places a hand on your lower back. Denise’s eyes narrow slightly, her smile faltering before she pulls her emotions back.

“Please do.” She saunters of, throwing one last look over her shoulder.

You laugh unbelievably, “Jesus… she was a bit forward.” You turn toward the rack beside you, picking up the first shirt your eyes land on. It’s a simple white blouse with navy blue pinstripes, the neckline is a little low for your taste but otherwise it’s very pretty. You pick up the tag and instantly drop it, your mouth falling open.

“What?” Aaron asks, sliding the clothes along the pole, looking through the selection.

“This! These clothes are way to over priced.” You turn the tag towards him, and he squints at the small numbers. ‘75.56’. He frowns slightly and you think he’s about to agree with you, call this whole ridiculous thing off until he shrugs.

“That’s not so bad.” He grins at the incredulous look you level him, showing perfect teeth. “Darling you’ll come to realize the value that comes with certain things. Soon enough you’ll see the value in yourself as well.” He chucks you under the chin softly and you think that’s it.

You’re going to explode.

Everything it too much.

“Hotch, I can’t just let you waste that kind of money on me. You don’t know what you will need it for later, bills, or -.”

Aaron steps into your space again, bending down until he’s eye level with you and you clam up. His eyes are dark, burning with an intensity that has your shoulders slumping slightly. When he speaks his voice is quiet but direct, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “What did I say our first rule was?”

You stammer, your grip tightening on the fabric still in your hands. “You said… to call you Aaron.”

“Correct. So that’s one. Now, when I say I am doing something for you, buying you something, getting you something; do not doubt me. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. Do I make myself clear?”

All you can do is nod, your throat dry and tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. “Good girl. Now if you really find calling me Aaron to difficult, you can always call me sir.” You suddenly look like a fire had been lit underneath you, your face flushing a new shade of red he’d yet to see before. You turn away from him, trying to hide your emotions and aggressively shuffle through the clothes before you.

Aaron straightens with a satisfied smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour in and there is a mount pile of clothing in the cart in front of you. Everything you’ve selected draped over one side and everything Aaron selected on the other. You had found a discount rack, the red tags a twisted mess by now, but the 15% off sign did little to quell the guilt eating you.

“Okay… this is more clothes than I think Garcia even owns. I think we should-.” You’re talking absently, glancing up only to find Aaron is walking in the opposite direction of the checkout. “Oh for the love of all things holy.” You quickly follow, pulling the cart behind you as the hangers rattle together. He stops in front of a display of eloquent evening gowns and you follow his stare to the forefront of the display. A deep emerald green satin dress takes your breath away, with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that goes half way up the mannequins thigh. You peak around the back in awe, it plunges well down to the lower back, a sheer material with beautiful rhinestones occupying the negative space.

Aaron watches as you pick up the bottom of the dress, rubbing the buttery material between your fingers. “I would love to see you in it.”

You shake your head, though your focus remains on the dress. “There’s no reason to, when would I ever wear this? Besides we’ve been here for nearly an hour, if we don’t leave soon I’m sure Denise is going to jump your bones.”

Aaron chuckles at that with a shrug. “You might not be wrong, she’s been lurking around the corner ever since I took my jacket off and she caught sight of my watch.” You glance down at his wrist as he shows you a golden Rolex. You hum in understanding, putting the two together. A handsome, stylish man, with a nice suit and a watch that coasts a couple of grand. She sees dollar signs. “Go ask her for a fitting room.”

Glancing around you notice she’s no more than ten feet away, pretending to be busy with an already neatly arranged display of sweaters. You walk over, hands clasped behind your back. “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t bother to look up, her head tilted as if in contemplation as she stares at the stack in front of her. “Yes?”

Your jaw clenches slightly, but you smile regardless. “I’d like to try that green dress on, where are your dressing rooms?” That finally catches her attention, she looks around you to the dress your talking about and then to the cart beside Aaron, the red tags turned her way. With a bemused smile she finally looks you in the eye.

“Sorry, that dress isn’t on sale, dear. Maybe come back some other time.” Her high voice carries farther than she thinks, reaching Aaron who’s eyebrows raised in surprise before furrowing as anger bubbles in his chest.

Before you can say anything he is by your side, startling you both. “She didn’t ask you if it was on sale. She asked if you had a fitting room.” Denise pales, his voice is harsh and edged making her shift on her feet as she begins to stammer

“Well I… it was just-.”

“Just what? It’s a simple question, this is a clothing store so you must have fitting rooms. She would like one opened.” Denise can no longer keep eye contact, her gaze flickering from his face and away again. “Now.” The command in his voice makes her move, her mouth agape and she’s pointing indirectly over her shoulder. She turns, quickly walking away and you’re left to stunned to react. Aaron’s hand finds your back again, pushing you forward, his other hand on the end of the cart.

The dressing area is three beiges booths with deep red curtains for doors. A large mirror takes up one wall that is lit up like Time Square during Christmas, and there are mirrors in the booths as well. “You said the green dress?” You nod, giving her your size and she’s running off again, her head down and face red. Aaron takes a seat in one of the mahogany chairs, folding his arms across his chest. He’s watching Denise leave with that same look he gives every unsub as they are being hauled off to their final destination.

“Um… thank you, for… for that.” You speak up, breaking the silence waiting on Denise to return.

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his black shoe tapping the polished floor. “You don’t typically show when you’re upset or irritated, I had to step in. I also couldn’t stand by and let you be berated like that.”

This time it’s you who crosses their arms, glowering at him. “I wasn’t showing I was upset, so what she was being rude? It didn’t affect me.”

His lips pull into a sarcastic smile, head shaking. “Sweetheart, I’ve been working with you for three years, nearly four. When you get upset over something, even if it is trivial, you dig your nails into your palms. Most likely because you would rather focus on that then what’s stewing in your mind and your chest.” You blink at him, awareness washing over you as you shake out your hands, crescent indents marking your flesh.

Before you can snip at him Denise is back, placing the dress in one of the rooms and leaving without a word. Aaron raises an eyebrow and you huff, turning and walking into the booth before snatching the curtain closed. You take a moment to breath, your annoyance merging on anger as you begin to undress.

You have to force yourself to remember this is all apart of the contract, this is all small steps to whatever greater end goal he has. You can’t fully trust he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart, no one is like that. Working a career where you catch murderers and kidnappers and rapists has shown you such. The thought lingers at the back of your mind that maybe he’s pushing you to break and go to therapy where they will force your leave. It wouldn’t happen, you’ve come to far to let anyone treat you that way.

You step out of your pants, bending down to pick them up when you notice movement in the mirror. You look up, making eye contact with Aaron from where he sits and you go still. The only thing that moves is your heart as it suddenly jumps into double time.

Aaron’s eyes slowly rake over your body, the hunger in his eyes evident even from where you stand and you can feel your body respond. Heat rushes through your veins, leaving you lightheaded. He shifts in his seat, your eyes dropping to where he tugs at his pants legs, a noticeable bulge in his lap that makes your guts clench. From anxiety? Want? Curiosity? You aren’t sure. You quickly look away, his smile turning wolfish as you straighten and spin around, giving him a full peak at the matching black bra and panties your wearing before yanking the curtain fully closed.

All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, your fingers suddenly tingling and your lungs working for air. Shakily, checking the curtain again and again you strip out of your bra, and pull the dress over your head. The satin is soft and cool, the green leaving your skin glowing in the light. It hugs your body in ways you wouldn’t of imagined and you… like it. It screams seduction, fun, and someone you’re not but someone you once might have wanted to be…

The only issue is you can’t zip it yourself. You struggle for a few minutes, contouring your body this way or that, but you can’t get the zipper more than half way up your back.

Reluctantly you pull the curtain aside just enough to peak your head out, your eyes instantly finding Aaron’s. He raises an eyebrow, his hands clasped together in his lap and you are more than aware of why. “I need her help.” Your voice is floaty and you clear your throat. “I can’t zip it up.”

“I’ll help you.” He stands, crossing the small distance in three long strides, quicker than you can reject his help.

“Wait- no, I’m-.” But he is pulling the curtain away from the other side and you curse the interior designer with a flourish of silent profanities. In the small space he seems larger than life, all broad chest and long limbs. He steps closer and you back up, an all to familiar dance you two have rehearsed before.

He holds his hand out, a gesture of reassurance but he is still looking at you like a starved man. “Spin around, pretty girl.” Your legs feel suddenly numb, like you’d never used them before in your life as you continue to stare. “It’s okay.” He whispers, taking another half step forward.

“It’s fine, it fits well enough without it zipped I’m sure it’ll fit great when it is.” You fight to keep your body lose and face expressionless, trying to mask the feelings bubbling in your guts. Aaron doesn’t say anything, only continues to stare you down, gaze never wavering. “Really.”

“Turn around.” You don’t want to listen, but the timber of his voice makes your body ache in a way that catches you more by surprise than anything else has these past 24 hours. Cautiously you lay your hand in his, letting his pull you in before spinning you around so you’re facing the mirror. He sweeps your hair over your shoulder, his fingers grazing across the naked skin pulling gooseflesh to the surface.

You stand as still as possible, hardly breathing as he gently slides the zipper up. His palms spread across your ribs, warm through the thin fabric. “What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful dress.” You whisper quietly, trying not to back down from his stare.

“You make it beautiful.”

“You’re only saying that.” He pulls you closer, your back hitting his chest, your body molding to his. A gasp disappears on your lips, his hips pressing into you lower back his erection prominent making you shiver.

“I can promise you I’m not.” His hand slips to your stomach, splaying across your abdomen, and a small noise hitches in your throat. He tilts his head down, pressing a tinder kiss to the crown of your head and all you can focus on is where he’s touching you and where he isn’t, but where you want him to. Your panties are suddenly slick feeling as you shift against him, his erection digging further into your ass.

“Aaron…” You try to warn, and he watches the way your eyes flutter, the shields you’ve so desperately and carefully constructed cracking under the weight of his stare. Some logical part of your brain, buried beneath the mush of your thoughts, is screaming and begging to run away. But how long had it been since you’d felt that fire in the pit of your stomach, curling your toes and making your thighs pinch together?

You’re about to open your mouth, say something, anything at all, when he is suddenly pulling away. “Come out here so I can get a better look at you.” Aaron steps behind the curtain leaving you to your spiraling thoughts and an ache you’d never imagine. Your face is flushed, eyes wide and pupils blown out over the color of your irises. It’s hard to keep the air in your lungs from rushing out in soft pants.

All you can think is that if this is how you react to a few simple words and actions, you’re screwed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next half hour is spent paying for your clothing, a bill Aaron wouldn’t allow you to see, then moving the bags from the car to your hotel room. You stare at them now, laid out on your bed with furrowed eyebrows and your thumbnail caught between your teeth. How would you get these in your bag and on the plane with as little notice as possible?

“Maybe we can go get you another duffle bag tomorrow.” Aaron answers as if he could read your thoughts, and if you didn’t know better you would say he did.

“It’s okay.. Thank you for the clothing.” You manage, giving him a tight smile as you glance to where he is standing at the foot of the bed.

The entire car ride was filled with tension, his presence alone setting you on edge, all while he remained calm driving down the busy streets and helping you to your room.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, possibly more so from your compliance, his eyes like coffee. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”

You bite your nail harder, looking back to the bags. “I’d like to just order my food to my room, I need to get this organized and finish my reports.” You expect him to argue but he only nods, coming around the bed and kissing the top of your head before he walks towards the door.

“I’ll check on you in a little while.” With that he leaves, and as the automatic lock slides into place you crumple. You sit heavily on the bed, running a hand through your hair like it might comb your thoughts back into place.

What are you doing?

What is he doing?

You groan in frustration, the feeling of not having control over what happens next beating on your bones and muscles. You haven’t relaxed since this began and you have a feeling you won’t for a long time to come.

*~*~*~*~*~*

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[mirrorbvllhoon]

COFFEE a P. SH. written series: chapter one Coffee every morning

Masterlist

WC: 1k

Cafe owner!reader x idol!Sunghoon

or... when Sunghoon, a famous kpop idol, enters inside your cafe to hide from his crazy fans and ends up falling for you.

It was seven am when you had arrived at your cafe, almost nine months had passed since you opened it, in hopes to accomplish one of your life long dreams, which seemed not so far away now, with the dim light of the morning caressing your skin as you skimmed through your bag searching for the keys to open the cafe, not to the public, but you had work to do, you put the closed sign, in case someone saw the opened door and decided to enter.

You had to clean and mop the floors first so you kept the door and windows open so the air could ventilate and dry the wet surfaces, after that you had to prepare the batches of pastries baking them or taking them out of the oven or fridge and setting them on the showcases and cabinets so people could see them, finally you had set the espresso machines and cleaned the rest of the instruments and measuring cups, this way once the rest of the crew arrived the day could start and the waitlist for the items wouldn’t be as long, after all it was the start of the weekend which meant a heavy workload of a day.

You decided to eat something since you haven’t had breakfast as well as preparing yourself the first coffee, which had become a small tradition you had developed since opening the café. You decided to turn on a small TV in the rest room reserved for the employees as well, deciding to listen to the news hoping to listen to the weather forecast and partially because the silence of the mornings stressed you out a little bit.

You were preparing an iced latte for yourself, however as soon as you were pouring the espresso shot over the milk inside the tall glass, when you heard the door shutting and quick nervous steps and a dog barking?

“We haven’t actually opened…” you started, not even looking to face the person, hoping it was someone drunk that needed a drink, or an absent-minded wanderer who didn’t bother to look at the “close” signs, things that had already happened to you, but your mind was far from the reality occuring right beside you. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I just need to hide, can I just stay under the counter, I- please” the guy beside you pronounced, you could see the look in his eyes and quickly nodded, he hid just as he told you too and hid the dog he carried as well, petting it while trying to regain his breath.

you started to see lots of girls walking, carrying cameras and backpacks, their faces were covered with facemasks and long hoodies or caps, one of them stared into your small cafe but even before the girl could arrive you quickly moved from the counter and signed to the “closed” sign outside, the girl nodded quickly and went with the rest of the girls, you decided to lock the door after the weird start of the day.

You went back and saw the milk on the counter, the espresso shot still untouched.

“How do you like your coffee?” you asked the guy, he hummed in response.

“You still look anxious, if you don’t like coffee I can make you something else… I’m guessing your day has been a little weird, so the least I can do is make you something to eat”

“Oh… you don’t have to, you have been kind enough to let me in”

“An iced vanilla latte sounds good?”

He looked at you and smiled sweetly, this time the moles adorning his nose and face were visible as well as the messy hair he had and the coat that barely covered his trembling body, either because of the stress or the cold.

“Do you need anything else? or do you need me to call someone?”

“No, this is weird to explain already… is someone looking from the outside?”

“No, but there are a lot of girls walking with big cameras…they almost look like… oh fuck… are they sasaengs?” you asked, consciousness hitting you back, there was a handsome looking guy that wanted to hide and a bunch of girls with cameras outside…the guy hiding behind the counter was an idol of some kind, you were sure of it.

“Are you an idol?” You asked obliviously, he let out a sigh before nodding. “I won’t give your personal information or whatever you’re thinking, If I even confess I’m not that familiar with all of that culture, I recently started living here”

He could feel the genuinity of your voice, after all in your head you knew he was just a human following his job, he didn’t deserve whatever was happening right now, you handed him the latte and also made a small paper cup filled with whipped cream for the dog that was with him.

“Her name’s gaeul” he said still petting the small dog, “She’s pretty” you answered, “Can I pet her?” he nodded and you petted gaeul for some minutes, before going back to work, your fingers grazed him for the smallest of seconds and a smile appeared on both of your faces.

“I think most of them have left, you can leave through the back door whenever you need” You said looking through the glass that divided your reality right now with the guy in front of you and the empty streets outside.

He nodded and while you went into the employee room, the broadcast had changed into a kpop presentation of some group. The song was catchy and beautiful, however what stood out more from you was one of the members, who looked just like the one who had arrived at your café.

You turned off the broadcast, hoping he didn’t hear it, maybe it could make him uncomfortable or stressed, you wanted to tell him his vocals and dance skills were mesmerizing and that you apologized for letting him alone for some seconds, however when you arrived to the counter, there was no one there and the backdoor was now half open staring at you. He had left the same way he had arrived, without advice and unnoticed but changing forever the course of your life.