#so many thoughts compared to the others (besides 'it happened one night' that was a long movie)

[cultven]

Hello! Can I request homelander x human reader? Maybe he has some kind of messed up obsession with a Vought employee that gave him a huge cupcake on his birthday but she is just completely blind to it. Like he's just obsessing constantly like "I swear if someone touches you I'll-" and she's just like "hm, he must be hungry" Id love to see what you do with this plot if you decide to use it. Obsessed x dense is such a funny kind of ship to me.

Strawberry Cupcake

Homelander X Reader

Content: Protective Homelander, Jealousy, he is obsessed! and you adore him too, some threats, lots of touching (in non-sexual ways), semi-harassment from a side character but not really

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Non-graphic threats

a/n: I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS GIF also I am currently watching The Boys for the first time and have not made it to Homelander’s birthday episode yet so I changed the request a tiny bit, ty

It began with a cupcake—such a small insignificant gesture for the sender, but a brain-rewiring occasion for the receiver. Homelander stood there, dazed, looking at the large treat on the seven-shaped desk, right in front of his chair. He was publicly celebrating “500 crimes prevented” recently, but the majority of it was just a PR stunt. They faked the last crime, making it extra flamboyant so that audiences had something to gawk over. Vought needed more interest so they threw together some tacky event with overpriced merchandise and a speech from Homelander himself. With a tentative hand, Homelander reached out and held the cupcake in his gloved hand. It couldn’t have been an outsider that gave this to him, no one steps into this room besides those he allowed. Examining it further, he noticed a pink slip on the table next to the cupcake. 

‘In celebration of 500 crimes! Thank you for protecting us. -Y/N’

A simple message, a display of gratitude he receives from strangers all of the time. So then why does this feel so different? So personal compared to the other thanks he gets? He licked some frosting. Strawberry, his favorite. He felt a smile grow on his face. Perhaps it was because you were the only employee to thank him for all the fake-heroic work he has done, or because you were observant enough to know his food preferences, but he needed to find just who you were. 

Immediately he went to Ashley and demanded she find who this Y/N person was. The first time he saw you he was instantly drawn to your demeanor. You didn’t seem scared of him, even though as a higher-ranking employee you should be at least aware of his capabilities. Homelander quickly shooed Ashley away and began to make a civil conversation with you, thanking you for the cupcake with a genuine smile. You happily mirrored a smile back, showering him with praise but also trying to make regular conversation. You didn’t want to seem like a fan or anything. 

The time you spent together was refreshing, humanizing. You treated him not as a machine like so many others before you had. You eagerly indulged in whatever topic Homelander brought up, sparking even more interest in the man. As the night concluded he decided to test you. 

“You do realize that the whole ‘500 crimes’ thing is fake, right?” He said it with a tone intended to make you feel stupid for getting the cupcake, despite his undying gratitude for the small gesture. He needed to know what your reasoning was, or if your pretty little face was just not paying attention to the work they do at Vought. 

“I know! But, I dunno. It still seemed like a cool thing to pretend to celebrate. Plus, I’ve been getting into baking and thought, why not make you something? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” You said with a soft smile and a sweet expression. You were so fucking oblivious to the fact he could snap you in half without a second thought it was adorable. But it also scared him, were you that dense in the real world to criminals? With even just meeting you he couldn’t bear the thought of you being injured. And thus began Homelander’s mission to be your guard dog in the shadows. 

He was always there, whether you knew or not, keeping an eye on you. He was horrified when he found out you walked home alone from Vought when your shift was over. Were you stupid? No, he knows that’s not the answer. You were just too kind to ever assume that there were people out there who could harm others without a second thought. It was honestly a miracle you’ve made it this far without his protection. But no need to fear now, he’s got your back. 

When he is making himself known he’s constantly obsessing over you, to the point where everyone else in the room can tell but you. One day Homelander brought you along for a promotional event Vought was hosting for a sponsor. He held your hand the entire time backstage, wanting to keep you close. For the moments where he was forced to be somewhere else God forbid anyone else enter your vicinity because they would have a very stern talking to later by America’s favorite superhero. 

“Y/N, just stay here okay? I’ll be back in a bit. If anyone tries to do something tell me, and I’ll fucking blast their heads off sweetheart.” Homelander looks at you with a serious expression, but you only smile at him back. You believe he’s always exaggerating with his threats, despite it being the exact opposite. If anything, the threats are always tamer than the punishment itself. 

“I know, I know. Anybody talks to me, you'll kill them.” You said with a smile, briefly touching Homelander’s nose with your pointer finger. “You’re so cute. Go get ‘em, tiger.” You shoo him away to Ashley, who is waiting with a bored expression. She’s seen this display a million times, of Homelander swooning over you and you not picking up a single hint. The times when he would make Ashley call you into his office just so he could rest his head on your lap at the end of a particularly long day. When you were running late once to a meeting and Homelander searched the entire city in under two minutes because his overactive mind convinced himself you were dead in an alleyway and he had failed you. When he returned disheveled and ready to burn the entire building to the ground he found you were just in the bathroom touching up your makeup and lost track of time. Somehow in his haste of panic, he didn’t think to check the building and immediately assumed the worst. Ever since that incident, Ashley has made sure you were on time for every event now. She was sure he even leveled a mountain for you once after you thought it had the perfect view for a picnic, but no room for a proper picnic blanket. 

Yeah, the dude was obsessed. This brought about some problems at Vought, but anyone would rather jump off a bridge than confront Homelander about his little obsession with you. 

It was another typical day, Vought had just begun filming for a TV show about The Seven. Naturally, they filmed Homelander’s segment first. You sat in said superhero’s dressing room and watched as he perfectly combed his soft blonde hair into place. You had a stupid smile on your face, gawking at the incredible man in front of you. “You’re gonna do great today! I’m so excited to watch your film.” Homelander looked over and saw you practically jumping in your seat with excitement. It warmed his heart to see you so genuinely enjoy him doing simple tasks like mindlessly talking to a camera for hours. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Homelander puts down his comb and saunters over to your chair, bringing you into a sudden hug. In truth, he can’t stand physically being away from you for more than an hour. He feels right when he’s with you, he feels like John, not Homelander. It’s such an overwhelming feeling of comfort he feels, he could cry each time you touch. If this is what true love feels like he wishes all his enemies feel it so he can rip it away from them. How excruciatingly painful that must feel shakes him in maniacal ways. 

“John?” You’ve become accustomed to using his real name with him by his request. The simple title shakes him out of his thoughts and brings them back to your shining face. “What’s the hug for? Not that I’m complaining but…” You trail off, arms wrapped around his torso reciprocating the hug. 

“Can’t hug my girl?” He playfully smiles, squeezing your small body with only a percentage of his power. We all know what would happen if he did it with full force. He leads you out into the hallway in front of his dressing room door. The expression he wore was akin to the face a puppy makes when it gets kicked. “I have to go film, but remember if anyone fucking touches you I’ll burn them until their unrecognizable,” Homelander said with a nonchalance that should have horrified you, but you simply smile when he pats your head, kisses your cheek, and leaves the room. As you turn to go your own way you see an intern for the television company standing there, mouth agape. Their expression was almost laughable. 

“He just must be hungry!” You giggle. 

As the day progressed Homelander became increasingly irritated over the fact he hadn’t seen you in hours. The underpaid employees were consistently getting berated and yelled at by the man. “Go find Y/N…” Ashley whispered to an intern after a particularly realistic threat spewed from Homelander’s mouth. 

Looking up from his tiny rampage, it was evident that Homelander had heard the request crystal clear. Deciding he was done with idiots for the rest of today he left with a grumble, “Don’t bother, I’ll find her myself.” 

Finding you wasn’t the problem, it never is with Homelander’s unique abilities, but finding who you were with was something else. Somehow a random D-list superhero had found its way onto the set and decided that you were the lucky girl who deserved his charm today. Unlucky for that man, Homelander’s already sunken mood had just become much more severe. He was clearly making you comfortable, backing you into a corner where you couldn’t escape. He wasn’t quite touching you, but he was only a breath away from being able to. The sigh almost activated Homelander’s eye beams right then and there. He felt animalistic, and territorial over you. 

With the best fake expression he could muster, which wasn’t very good, he casually walked over to the two of you. As the man next to you saw who was approaching his eyes lit up and his body seemed to forget you were there, so enthralled by the man in front of him. Wrong reaction. 

“Homelander, sir! Wow, it’s such an honor to meet you.” His hand stuck out, waiting for a handshake it would never receive. 

“Right,” Homelander’s smile was strained. “And what is going on over here?” 

The man seems taken aback by the question, not quite sure why Homelander was interested in what was happening. “Oh, um, me and girly over here are just chatting. Think I might get to home base tonight, if you know what I mean, haha.” He winked at Homelander, a disgusting and provocative gesture. Gauging your reaction to this comment, a look of fear in your eyes and a pleading look sent John’s way, he almost evaporated the man right then and there. But he kept his cool, he wouldn’t want you to see all the dirty work he has to do after all. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Homelander said plainly, making the other superhero, if he could even call himself that, cringe at himself. John stood there, eyes now locked on you. You looked so fragile in this position, like something he needed to protect. Sometimes he felt his abilities were given to him for that sole purpose; to protect you from the world. Even if that wasn’t the case he does so anyway. 

“Right, well, um…” The man stuttered out, embarrassed at the exchange. 

“What are you doing here? It’s surprising they’d invite a D-tier superhero to a Vought shooting.” Homelander questioned, changing the subject away from you. This seemed to bring the man’s personality back. 

“Ah! Well, they wanted to include a segment where you were helping smaller heroes, you know, to show you don’t care about status and everyone is equal.” 

“Well isn’t that nice?” Homelander’s grin toward the man only became increasingly artificial, smile lines dancing on either side. He turns to you. “We’ll be right back, sweetheart. Just going to chat about the show a bit.” He winks at you, before ushering the man away out the back. 

It was an hour later when Homelander came back, seemingly much calmer now. Ashley began yelling at him, scolding him for making them wait before he shoved her aside and beelined for his dressing room where he knew you were sitting all pretty waiting for him. 

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He cooed, walking over and taking you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo entering his system. 

You giggled. “Where have you been? Still talking to that one guy? I don’t really like him, he was being weird.” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He wasn’t a good fit for the show anyway.” Homelander wiped a bit of charcoal off his suit. “The team decided to fire him.” 

“Mhm, I don’t disagree with that notion.” You nuzzle into Homelander’s chest before noticing a small box he was hiding behind his back. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, this?” A wide smile played on the man’s lips. He presented the box, a red ribbon sealing the deal. “A present to cheer you up from earlier.” You thanked him before eagerly taking the box into your soft hands. With one fell swoop you managed to untie the ribbon to reveal one strawberry frosted cupcake that you then both shared. 

[romanticintheory]

HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS

...

and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺

HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3

simon riley betrays you pt. 2

simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist

☆ ☆ ☆

-miraculously, they let you go.

-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.

-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?

-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.

-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.

-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.

-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.

-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?

-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.

-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.

-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."

-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.

-"c'mon jus' let me-"

-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.

-oh, thank god.

-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.

-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.

-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."

-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.

-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?

-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"

-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?

-"no. never."

-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.

-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.

-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.

-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."

-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"

-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.

-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"

-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"

-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.

-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.

-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."

-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.

-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.

-"what?"

"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.

-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).

-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.

-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?

-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.

-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.

-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."

-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.

-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."

-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.

-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."

-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.

-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.

-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.

-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.

-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.

-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."

-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.

-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.

-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Not Blue, Black

Everyone always assumes that Danny's eyes are blue. He’s shown pictures of his family before and his dad’s eyes are blue, and so are his twin brother’s and his daughter’s, and his big sister’s. So his must be too! Well, his mom seemed to have this weird purple thing going on so no one was too sure. And no one seemed to care either way, especially not Danny. Besides, why would anyone care about eye color when they had such an amazing young man working alongside them?

Danny was the perfect intern. He’s always on time, never giving trouble, always giving helpful suggestions, and good at not only his job but everyone else’s too, making it handy to have him around the office. He was also the workplace hottie, with many guys and girls hovering around him, desperately trying to make him theirs despite him announcing himself happily married the first day he got here. (Everyone knew who his husband and wife were since he couldn’t help but show them off every chance he got. Everyone knows they’ve got no chance, but one can dream.)

He also seems to light up just about whatever room he happens to be in. Just his presence alone made even their shittiest days in the office seem like just tiny inconveniences in the eyes of the universe. Unless he himself was pissed, which didn’t happen too often. But when he was, everyone felt it and knew to avoid him like the plague. But, other than that, Danny was an all-around good guy and was for sure going to get the job after he graduated from Gotham U. 

You, on the other hand, weren’t too sure about your position in the company, as you were Danny’s antithesis, everything he was not. You were always late for reasons no one cared to understand. Just about every issue in the office was pinned on you whether you were involved or not. You couldn’t ever think about helpful suggestions and just rode off the backs of others. And compared to everyone else's good looks, you were the workplace monster. 

You had a scar on your face and body you got as a kid. You got it in an accident and it deformed your right side quite a bit. It was challenging to adjust to yes, but over time you learned to live with and accept it. Others not so much. The stares you got almost daily, from everyone in the office to school, even random strangers on the street. All of them made you feel scared and sick. Like you wanted to dig off your skin and rip off your flesh and replace it all with something newer, better, more normal. But you couldn’t and had to live like this for the rest of your life. You had to live with the stares for the rest of your life.

Your only saving grace was this job, the one you were assigned to when you first got the internship. You were awful at it at first, resulting in many scoldings from the manager. But throughout the year you were here at this company, you dedicated your time and effort to be good at at least this one thing. And now you were proud to say that you were damn good at it. The best even! So good in fact that everyone decided that they would drop their workload onto you and let you handle it even if it meant extremely late nights at the office.

And that’s how you got to be here, on the company roof at 1 a.m., debating whether or not going home to actually sleep and eat would be worth the scolding you would get from the manager when you arrive to work ‘late’ again..., among other things.

You know having these kinds of thoughts was bad for your mental health (your therapist grilled it into you every time you even mentioned them to her), but it was freeing in a sick sort of way every time you thought of each scenario that could play out if you just-

“Hey!”

Jumping back to your senses, you turned around and saw none other than Danny Fenton standing right behind you. You two were never all that close in proximity before now so you only knew that he was big. You weren’t expecting the absolute unit that was standing behind you. You knew you were short but having to crane your neck to look at his face only put shit into perspective.

“Another late night?”

You only nod dumbly as he moves from behind to stand next to you, looking down at the bustling city below. A deep sigh came from him as he pulled a candy from his back pocket and popped it into his mouth. He was always eating candy. Did he have low blood sugar or just a sweet tooth?

“Same. It’s like we can never go home, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Mr. Perfect’s suffering just a bit until you realized what he meant. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Come on Fenton, just because you’ve done a few late nights doesn’t mean you ‘never get to go home’.”

You settled next to him, also looking down on the city as well. He was on his phone now, the blue light illuminating his features.

“She really never sleeps does she?”  He says laughing to himself.

You were kinda pissed off now. Who was he, Mr. Perfect Intern, Daniel Fenton, to compare his suffering to yours? You practically lived at this job now, once you weren’t busy with school or something else! You even bet that after this he’s gonna go home to his nice apartment and be met by a wrapped-up dinner on the table made by either his husband or wife. (HE HAS A FREAKING HUSBAND AND WIFE FOR FUCKS SAKE!) He was probably talking about his little girl just now, and how she’s up waiting for him. Maybe she was half asleep on the couch with the TV on since she was so determined to see her Dad come home. It’s Friday after all of course she’d get to stay up way past her bedtime. He’s gonna get a hot bath and wash off dirt and grim of work, and-

Danny’s laugh was low and deep, rumbling through the air, sending chills down your spine. He turned to you and smiled his pearly whites glimmer-  Wait were those fangs?

“Dude you know you mumble out loud… right?”

There was silence between you two until a bright red crept up your neck, and ever so slowly engulfed your face. Shame flooded your entire being as you cradled your face in your hands. You sighed, feeling like more air wanted to come out but your very human lungs were empty and in need of oxygen. So sucking in a breath, you looked him in the face (why can't you see his eyes?). He was still smiling, his fangs (he has freaking fangs how had you never noticed before!) poking his bottom lips making little dimples.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve been stuck here for three days doing everyone else's work. I haven’t slept or eaten or taken a shower. I-”

“I know, I know. You’ve been busting your ass for a while now so of course you’d be grumpy.”

You don’t think grumpy is the word you’d use but it was close enough. 

“So how long have you been here Fenton?”

“A week.” He replied cooly, popping yet another sweet in his mouth. (Okay he needed to stop, at this rate, diabetes would be the next one to put a ring on his finger) But you were surprised nonetheless.

You’re sure you would’ve noticed if he was here for the entire week. He must have been playing games with you.

“Am not.”

Okay, you needed to stop thinking out loud.

“Look, just trust and believe that if I didn’t want you to notice me, you wouldn’t have. But I did so…” He shrugged and looked off into the distance once more.

You think that what he said is impossible, everyone notices Danny Fenton. But the office was pretty small compared to bigger companies. And if he really was there for the entire week you should have noticed him at some point of the three days you were here. You didn’t hear him coming up behind you a few moments ago either. So maybe there is some merit to his words.

“What’s got you here for so long anyways Fenton?”

He sighed, his face looking more tired than before. 

“You know the project that my group has, the one we got two months ago?” You nod and he continues, 

“Well, it was fine at first. Everyone was pulling their weight, excited to get it done. But then it started, again, with ‘Hey Danny, I’ve got something important to do this afternoon, can you finish this for me?’. Then, ‘Danny I'm not coming in today, do this for me? Thanks!’. And ‘Hey, Danny’s good at this let him do it!’. ‘Danny I need help! Wait no…, I actually meant that I want you to do this for me.’ 

Danny’ll do this, Danny can do that, don’t worry Danny’s on it! Danny, you’ll finish the project… right?

That along with the other workloads that are trusted upon me by the managers and other employees, ON TOP OF MY OWN ASSINGED WORK!”

By the time he was done, you had already recognized that voice all too well. Danny was struggling, right on the edge of his line, using the shirt on his back the make just a little more. Danny was breaking and just barely holding it together, just like you were. You never realized it before, but you notice now that, Danny’s fucking tired. Just like you.

A wet laugh broke your train of thought. His face was a bit wet, his eyes (?) red from held-back tears.

“People think that I’ve got no flaws-” A pang of guilt shoots through you as you were one of those people, “- but I do. Metric shit ton in fact. One of them is that I can’t help but to help people, even if it’s detrimental to myself. And if my sister finds out about this she’s gonna slap me upside and force me to stay home for a month!”

Another laugh rang through the air, sounding just a bit too crazy for your liking. Even so, you couldn’t help but wonder, you just needed to ask-

“Why are you telling me this?”

His laughter stopped and he turned to look at you. Like really look at you. You realize that Danny’s eyes weren’t blue like you and everyone else were assuming. His eyes were black. So black. Blacker than the night sky and deeper than any ocean. And within those oceans swam thousands of bright lights, each burning 10x brighter than the earth’s own sun! Yet they could never shine through that great abyss. It was beautiful. Danny’s eyes were so beautiful. 

“Because I’m gonna quit.”

“What?” Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah, I’m going to quit. And as your good friend-” Good friend? Since when!? “-I’m going to advise you to quit as well! I predict that this shabby ass company is gonna collapse in a few months and I DO NOT want to be there for that shit show, doubt you want to be there either.”

You feel conflicted. This is the first time that you and Danny Fenton have actually spoken to each other and after basically trauma dumping on you he tells you to quit! This has to be a prank! Some sick twisted joke!

“It’s not.”

CURSE YOUR BLOODY LIPS!

Danny smiled. He looked noticeably less human now that you could see fangs and eyes, and were his ears always pointy? Dear lord is he a part of the Fae!?

“Close but not quite.” 

At this point, you were pretty sure you weren’t speaking out loud and he was just straight-up reading your mind. He handed you a piece of paper and clasped his hand over yours.

“Just think about it ok? The first one is my number, so just call when you need a friend to talk to. The second is my brother’s, he thinks you’re cute.”

“What?” You look up only to see him gone as if he was never there. Looking back down you expect to see the paper gone too. But it was still there, the flirtatious message next to the second number making the tips of your ears turn red. Once again you remember that, Danny if a fucking giant, one who was now gone without a trace…

“What have I gotten myself into?”

You decided to quit the next day.

Three months later the company ends up in a scandal so bad, that even the bats are investigating it.

You decide to give Danny a call.

All I wanted to do was write a prompt about Danny's eyes... The fuck!?!?!?

[1980shorrorfilm]

sour times

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

btw to the requests in my inbox; i see u. i hear u. 🙏

pairing…jackson!abby x gn!reader x ellie

in which…you confront your not-so-great relationship with abby after she had stolen your best friend from you.

before you read…angst *sigh.* brief sexual content (for the plot!! no smut) you’re kinda mean here but i forgive you. 🫶

“do you like her?” “i don’t…i don’t know…i think so.”

her perfect blonde braid taunts you. you believe this is what hell is, following the lead of abigail anderson while the biting wind howls around you, snowflakes hitting your tender skin. 

the landscape is a winter wonderland, but you can’t seem to enjoy it in this state. perhaps if you were in the comfort of your bedroom, hot chocolate in your hand, and ellie williams by your side, you’d be in heaven. but that’s not even achievable these days. her time is spent with abby, the two in the woman’s garage, doing whatever when you’re not around, and you never are. 

it’s torturous to be the third. you had ellie first, your first real friend in the small town. you weren’t hers, cat had that blessing. but regardless, it appeared no one could even crack the bond you two had. and then she came along.

strolling into jackson like a puppy with eyes that resembled a stormy sea, her long hair adorned in a neat fishtail braid. she was sweet, but not in the naive way. she stood her ground when challenged, she showed her strength when needed, and she proved just how valuable she was to your community.

she also had a face you could admire for days, like some goddess one would worship many lifetimes ago. tan freckles scatter across her nose like lilies in a field, compared to ellie’s that are like stars in a busy midnight sky. they make their way down to her chest, sprinkled on her shoulders, and dancing over her biceps— her fucking biceps. god. abby was just fucking perfect. it aggravates you.

maybe that’s why ellie took a liking to her so rapidly. you get it— you hate it. and last night, you couldn’t help but ask your friend about their relationship, asking the auburn-haired woman if it was a crush. such a silly word, you had thought as it left your mouth. ellie even laughed quietly at it, avoiding an answer. then, you had asked again, ‘do you like her?’ 

and ellie had answered after hesitation, ‘i think so.’

i think so. jealousy coursed through your veins at the simple and uncertain answer; but you cannot pinpoint why, exactly. you never thought you liked ellie in that way. there was no doubt she was attractive, ellie happens to own that word, but your friendship was simply that. 

a friendship. no delving into romantic territory besides some lingering touches and a bit too deep all-nighters. there was nothing that made you yearn for her, when you already had her in such proximity to you, at your very fingertips. abby did a good job fucking that up, though. 

so you sat there, like a void was sucking you up at her answer. the idea of them…being a thing…sent chills down your spine. a nightmare possibly becoming a reality, if the feelings are mutual. and that scares you even more, abby finding herself enamored by ellie. somehow spending even more time with her than she already does. spending nights and mornings in her bed. it was all wrong. 

something that has yet to happen, already terrorizing you. it just can’t happen.

abby slows down her horse to walk beside you rather than in front of you, “you’re quiet…something wrong?”

you meet her eyes, legitimate concern within them. you were never the most talkative with her, but abby isn’t stupid and the tension in the air is almost as painful as the harsh weather you’re enduring. she wonders if she’s the cause of it. 

did she forget to wish you a good morning at the stables, something she did every single patrol? give you the wrong impression when she stared at you, utterly captivated by you? make you feel weak when she pulled an infected off of you, hands wandering your body making sure you were okay?

you answer her bluntly, “no.”

she tries again, “you can tell me if i did something…”

“you didn’t,” you insist, and surprisingly, it’s only a half lie. it’s the conversation with ellie that’s hanging over you like a dark cloud, and abby happens to be the focal point of it. 

abby seems to accept your response, for now, and tears her eyes off you. the wind has managed to pick up, and the horses are growing slower as they trudge through the snow. 

“that house up there,” abby motions with her head, a red house amongst the beige ones that surround it, “let’s hold up there.”

a stubborn part of you wants to tell her that she can wait there, and you will continue home. but you’re not a moron, and you don’t exactly feel like dying today, as much as ellie tempted you with the morbid idea. you’re freezing and crave shelter, even if that means being stuck another hour or so with abby. 

you follow abby to the home, waiting on your horse as she hops off hers, lifting the garage door for you to enter. when you do, there’s immediate relief in your body, abby behind you whispering sweet words to her horse, stroking the golden fur as she does so. it’s, unfortunately, cute. you keep your smile to yourself, patting your own horse when you get off her, then reaching for your gun before entering the home. 

“wait.” you pause and look back at abby, who walks in front of you, taking the lead yet again. an innocent yet condescending action that irks you deeply, watching the woman quietly slip past the wooden door, scanning the area for any sort of threat. 

you’re not as quiet when you follow behind her, stepping on some wrapper that crackles beneath your shoe, abby eyeing you like you spit on her. you brush it off, “i’ll check upstairs.”

“i’ll go with you.” “jesus— i don’t want you to.”

your sharp tongue takes her back, but there’s no anger in her eyes, it’s that same concern from moments ago. it makes you feel bad, but instead of apologizing, you leave her there, going upstairs like you said you would.

the old stairs creak with each quick step that you take, you forget the purpose of you coming up here. you just wanted to get away from her. that’s the reason why you’re immediately against a wall, snarling in your ear from a rotten corpse trying to bite it off. 

you resist, holding it at an arm's length away with one hand, the other reaching in your pocket for your pocket knife. your hands are cold and shaky, dropping it the moment you pull it out, when the splatter of blood meets your face. the thing is dead, falling before you, eyes meeting hers.

“a-are you—” “i’m fine,” you say coldly, bumping your shoulder with hers when you take a step forward and continue on. abby is really fucking confused, remaining frozen in the hall, staring at the dead infected at her feet. her eyes trail to your pocket knife, then back to you. 

you push open bedroom doors as you pass them, hardly searching them for any more infected. you assume if they wanted to, they’d attack you right then and there, and maybe if you’re lucky, a blonde knight in shining armor will save you. she had an annoying habit of doing so. 

“hey,” abby jogs toward you, trapping you in a doorway, “dropped this.”

the metal glimmers in her hands, and you’re quick to take your beauty of a weapon from her. oddly, you’re protective of the inanimate object, a thoughtful gift from ellie herself. the handle is a dulled shade of your favorite color, and the blade is a bit rusted, but that doesn’t bother you. “thanks,” you mumble, waiting for her to move. she doesn’t.

“wanna tell me why you’re acting like this?” “like what?”

“like that.” “what’s that?”

abby blinks at you, and you remain unfazed. you can tell her calm demeanor is deteriorating before you, patience running thin. “what did i do to you?” she asks, “since i showed up in jackson…it’s like you hate me.”

ouch. the words sting you more than her, and you cannot blame her for believing in such a thing. what have you done to show her otherwise?

held back smiles when she made kind remarks, generous gestures, and stupid jokes? left her out of conversations, not daring to spare eye contact when it was you, her, and ellie, sitting together? made weak small talk that made her feel like nothing but an acquaintance in town, when she just wanted more? 

you sigh, “i don’t…hate you.”

“you make that really hard to believe,” abby replies, crossing her arms. this close, you examine how the tip of her nose and cheeks are a hue of red from the bitter weather. it almost matches her lips…her lips. you’re watching her lips. you catch yourself, and whatever this is, pushing her away. you swallow the dusty air, fast steps taking you right back downstairs. 

of course, abby is on your trail. “you know we’re stuck here, right?” 

like a flip had been switched, you’re once again snappy with her, “no shit.”

“you confuse me, you know that?”

you pretend to ignore her words, focusing on the fireplace in the living room. there are enough logs to last as you wait out the blizzard, so you tug your backpack off and drop it on the distressed coffee table. you search for your matches, that are always in the first pocket in your bag, but they’re not there. 

you’re trying to remember when you took them out, or if they fucking ran away on their own. it doesn’t matter— abby is already ahead of you, and an orange glow suddenly illuminated the dim room. you turn your head, seeing the obnoxious sly grin on her face. “you’re welcome.”

you don’t thank her. you sit on the worn-out floral sofa a few feet away, eyes boring into the flames that are quick to warm you. “do you want a blanket?” abby offers, which you shake your head at. “you hungry?” again, you respond a ‘no,’ with your head. 

the problem with abby is that she’s genuine. she cares about you even if you have not shown the same worry toward her. and maybe that speaks for you more than abby. 

you don’t notice her reaching in her bag, pulling out some crumpled up gauze, until she sits beside you and reaches for your face. you move away when you feel her touch, furrowing your brows at her. “wanna be stubborn and keep that blood on your pretty face?”

your cool cheeks heat up, hardened appearance softening just slightly, then allowing her to wipe the nasty fluid off. she’s soft as she does so, taking her time, and the opportunity to adore your features at such close proximity. you’d probably give her a scowl if you realized so.

“is it her?”

“what?” “ellie. did she piss you off?”

abby is too observant for your own good. there’s only one…two people in jackson that can invoke such strong emotions from you, even if you hide them poorly. “no…”

“you kinda suck at this lying thing,” abby calls you out, large hand on your cheek, turning it so she can clean up any remaining blood on the other side of your face. “if she did, i could kick her ass.”

the somewhat joke leaves you with a puzzled expression. and then you laugh. “yeah, okay,” your tone is nothing but sarcastic, “like you’d ever take my side over hers.”

“what do you mean?” 

you bite your lip, tearing your eyes off her and into the burning wood. it’s not a loaded question, but it’s a loaded answer. to explain to her that ellie is her priority, as abby is hers, and you’re just there. someone that was kicked to the curb, left for envy to grow on you like poison ivy. 

you keep it short, “you guys are close.”

“well, yeah, we’re friends.” for now, you think, a humorless chuckle quietly escaping your lips. abby catches it, opens her mouth, and immediately shuts it. she finally lets go of your face, tossing the crimson coated gauze on the floor, her pupils still trained on you. the loss of her touch almost bothers you. then she speaks again.

“do you…do you think i like her or something? because we aren’t…anything.”

seconds pass in silence as you debate the question dancing on your tongue, curious if it’s overstepping but more intrigued about the answer. even if it will hurt to hear, you simply need to know. “do you want to be?”

“no, of course not.”

guilt ruins through your veins at the relief that settles in your body, knowing poor ellie would frown at the unrequited feelings. but there’s something else that gives you hope…why the fuck do you have hope? you gulp, “okay.”

“do you like her?” “what?!” “is that what this is about?”

“no— no it’s not, it’s not that.” “then what is it?”

you, honestly, cannot give her a proper response. this isn’t about some stupid nonexistent crush on your friend, yet that would make the most sense for whatever these feelings of resentment are. 

you’re quiet as you try to think of something, and it doesn’t help that her blue-grey eyes are zoning into you, as if she’s trying to peel the complicated layers off of you. she’s trying to understand, she really is, and it painfully makes your heart swell. you truly do get ellie. 

your façade of disinterest is chipping away like the paint on these very walls, her gaze on you making you want to break— to give in —and the moment your eyes fall to her pink lips, you do exactly that. 

you close the space between you two, nearly crawling on the couch and in her lap when you gently grab the sides of her face, kissing her before you even realize that you’re kissing her. it was an urge you couldn’t simply couldn’t resist. and abby welcomes it.

she moves in sync, pushing her lips against yours deeper, surprised when you pull away. the moment hits you at once; you and abby. abby and you. it has your eyes widened and lips parted, searching for something to say. sorry? no…that doesn’t feel right. you’re not sorry. and abby doesn’t want you to apologize, she needs you to keep going.

as if you both read the others mind, you lean into each other, connecting your lips once more.

you think of ellie, what she had told you with such vulnerability, and then you think of abby. abby, who had a intense desire to taste you, and was making that evidently clear. the aftermath of whatever this is, will be dealt with when that time comes.

you swallow the guilt when your tongue mixes with hers, abby tugging you on top of her, gripping your shirt like her life depends on it. her eagerness sends shivers down your spine, more intense than the horrid weather outside ever could to you. 

it feels too good to stop, she feels too good. abby is unbuttoning her jacket, while you’re tugging yours off, the kiss suddenly messy as you’re both failing to multitask. you giggle against her lips when you both manage to do so, her callous hand cradling the back of your neck to draw you closer. if that were possible.

you deepen the kiss, your hands slipping beneath the knit long sleeve shirt she wears. you explore the abs you’ve only ever seen through tight shirts that had you in a daze, not that you would’ve ever admit that to her, though. she attempts to say your name against your lips, her voice weak and breathy.

you pull away and tilt her chin up with your fingers, trailing your lips down her jaw, to the side of her neck. the world outside vanishes as abby loses herself in the sensation of your lips on her neck, sweet kisses that shift to gentle bites.

it’s the tender spots that you suck, that earn hushed whimpers from her. and you make sure to do it over, over, and over again. like a damn vampire, sinking your teeth into her, and marking your territory, when she’s not even yours.

and then you stop, noticing the room was dark. the fire had gone out. “we should— uh,” you climb off of her, the woman catching the breath she seemed to hold still the entire time. 

“yeah…” she agrees, chest rising, licking her lips. 

the wind has calmed down by now, a tolerable ride home that’s extremely quiet, besides the occasional gust of wind. except it’s not awkward the way it was hours prior. you’re exchanging short glances at the other, small smiles when your eyes would meet. 

you make it back to jackson safely, both of you dropping off the horses at the stables, making small talk as you walk home. you’re not talking about what just happened inside that red house, both of you are too shy to bring it up, to ask if that meant anything to the other. 

it truthfully drifts from your mind as abby is explaining a childhood story, until your eyes fall on her. ellie, heading in your direction, toward you two. 

it’s when she gets closer, that her pupils fall to abby’s neck; the pale skin decorated with purple marks, caused by you. she had been so worried about you two, and now, she feels dumb. and hurt.

especially when you just give her a tight-lipped smile, knowing exactly what you have done. and more importantly, that you wanted her to see it.

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter thirteen — arson (🎂)

“Why…” You sobbed to yourself that morning, tone bubbling in your throat as you held your knees close.

The sky lightened and lightened the further the time closed in on dawn. Painted in the hues of soft pastels broke through, kissing the lavender and rose. You sat on the sand in the least high maintenance outfit you could think of that night, and set out to the nearby isolated walkway to the beach near your brother’s house. The problem was that you were there all night, expunging the tears off your face with your sleeves and dealing with the morning chill biting at your skin with no means to an end to your misery. No numb to your inner aching.

Your tears fell freely, soaking into your cheeks, falling onto half-wet sand. Unable to contain the sobs that wracked your body, your heaves and wails muffled into the sleeve of your now ex-boyfriend’s sweater. His sweater clinging onto you like the shore with its heavy mist.

The serenity was blatantly mocking you and comparing to the raging war in your mind. Your brother, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed this part of the beach. It’s probably why this was the first place he thought to go to search for you. He loved it, of course, more than you did on a regular basis too. He loved that this was the spot that you, him, and your mother would spend so much time around in the summers because of how little population there was. He loved the miniature sand dollars he would find washed up against one of the rocks sometimes, he’d even find a few anemones to poke and gently prod with his finger until they closed up tightly.

So it came to a more distinguished concern when he sat beside you silently while you sobbed in broken waves. Your breathing turning into heaving with every sniffle and wail. Those same memories Kazuha had enjoyed were slipping through your fingers, just like the sand you clung to.

“I’m sorry,” You choked out, throat sore and voice hoarse as you buried your face in your knees, trying to hide your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “You didn’t have to check on me…I’ll be okay.”

Kazuha gave you a moment to recollect your words,” There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He smiled after replying, hugging his knees together as well as he looked straight at the sea instead of you.

You two learned from a very young age the consolation could be many things to many people, and this was their. Sitting together in silence, meshing with each other’s energy and attempting to heal the other if there was a disturbance. There were hardly any words to exchange other than the obvious, there were no signs of gloating nor false sympathies until one of them wants to discuss how they feel. As for now…people pushing problems on you felt a lot more burdensome than usual.

“My heart hurts.” You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over your face. “I wish I knew what he wanted sooner. I know he was struggling, I wanted to help him, but he just pushed me away and I felt really conflicted! I wanted last night to be perfect, I mean, we were at the festival for the first time since mom died and…and!”

“And you felt like you were talking in front of a locked door?” Kazuha looked at you, to which you hide your face in your arms as you listened. “You don’t know who will stay here with you and who won’t, and that’s okay.”

“I don’t know if I could’ve done more or not.” You drawled, struggling not to just burst into tears again. “Maybe he needed someone, and I was too busy on the one day he wanted to ask for my help.”

Kazuha’s hand reached out, placing a light hand on your back and rubbing it in circles. “The most interesting thing about life is that it never stops, even when you’re having a good time. We’re ignorant to things happening around us with our loved ones…all because we ourselves aren’t feeling necessarily sad enough to address them. That’s not a judgement on our character, but he’s capable of taking care of himself too, just like us.”

You felt ashamed knowing that the only time you had to spend with your brother was during the time that you keep getting curveballs thrown at you. “I don’t know,” You sniffed. “I doubt that we had time to think about ourselves with mom.”

“Mom…didn’t tell us she was getting sicker until it was too late.” He sighed softly, eyes still fixed on the riding sun, but a little more defeated this time. “There were signs, but I guess that just proves my point.”

“I think did what you could…mom is watching us sometimes, too. Sometimes the dreamcatcher she really liked rings when there’s no wind.”

You both sit there in silence, listening to the soft lapping of waves. Talking about mom almost drew you away from the fact that you were in hysterics about your former lover, which made you more sad that you couldn’t have either one. The sky brightened more, pastels giving leeway to the golden warmth of the early morning. It casted a soft glow on everything it touched, and for a split second, it almost felt like this was the peace you needed. With your brother, the one you knew better than anyone.

Kazuha’s hand was still on your back, grounding you from the situation again, but reminding you of the new coming problem that you had school in ten minutes.

“Someday I hope you have the same memories that I do about this place, good or bad.” Kazuha finally said, soft and reflective. “It’s where our happiest moments show up, you’ve made a great connection with it already by yourself. Now you just need to let your own mind come to terms with it.”

You chuckled amidst your full throat. “That’s a little silly…why would I want to keep the bad memories with me if the main goal is to heal?”

He didn’t respond right away, but he tilted his head enough to lean against your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “For a reflection, I hope.”

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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

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[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

hiiii i have a request <33 maybe percy x daughter of dionysus reader?

drunk on love ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader backtrack: “adventure player”, yao chen inspiration: you!

it wasn’t often that demigods at camp half-blood got to relax. you were usually all busy training and dying. but with all the chaos that had been happening recently, you thought you all deserved a break. besides, with the war brewing, you never knew when the last time you ever saw your friends would be. and it sucked to think about that, but it was reality.

so that’s why you and a few other campers were out here, in the middle of the forest, at night. nobody asked how you got the wine, or why it was even there. let’s just say you called in a couple favors with some hermes kids.

you reminded everyone to keep it down. the harpies usually patrolled the beach area, so the forest was generally safe, but you couldn’t take too many chances. to be completely honest, the party was kind of a ruse to get closer to your boyfriend. the two of you couldn’t be too comfortable with each other during the day, under the watchful eye of your dad, dionysus. you weren’t ashamed of percy, and all the campers--and chiron, you were pretty sure--knew you were together. but you weren’t willing to take a chance on your dad.

percy was looking fine as hell, and it was effortless too. his hair was messed up just a little, his smile practically lighting up the whole forest. he met your gaze from all the way across the clearing and smirked a little. you grinned and sent him a sly wink, raising a plastic cup to your lips and taking a sip of the red wine inside. some stray wine dripped from your lips, which you caught with your thumb and sucked off. not breaking eye contact, you quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend, a little smirk on your face.

percy shook his head, running his hands through his hair. he made his way over to you, alcohol-free because he was responsible like that. (that was such a lie. you figured he just didn’t like alcohol because of his old stepdad and arch nemesis.)

“you’re killing me over here, [name],” percy said with a grin as he reached you. you grinned as he pushed you up against the nearest tree, hands going to your waist immediately. you wrapped your arms around him to hug him close to you, the near empty cup still clutched in your hands.

percy wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours. he tasted faintly of sea salt--he always did--and blue raspberry jolly ranchers. he was your most favorite flavor. you returned his kiss hungrily as his hand slipped under your shirt, gently rubbing circles on your warm skin.

if it was up to you, you would spend all day kissing your boyfriend. unfortunately, that wasn’t up to you. “perce, my dad could see,” you whispered, unconnecting your lips and forcing yourself to keep a clear mind.

“you’re not worried about him finding out about this whole party in general?” he returned in a low voice, tugging your hair teasingly.

“compared to him seeing you and I together? not really, actually.” dionysus would probably have a good laugh seeing this gathering. “he’d probably be proud of me. about the party.” you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp, savoring the taste. of course, being the daughter of the wine god had its perks, one being you could outdrink anybody.

“he hates me enough anyway,” percy muttered. “I swear, babe, you think we’re being all discreet, but he definitely knows. and I don’t have a problem with that, but he definitely knows. you should see the way he looks at me. I might get murdered in my sleep one of these days.”

“don’t say that,” you protested, rolling your eyes. “you’re too important to kill.”

“hmm,” he hummed dismissively, pressing his lips to yours again. “wanna get out of here?” he mumbled against your mouth.

“you know I do.” you held on to your cup--the dryads would never forgive you if you littered--and took percy’s hand in yours. the music and lights of the makeshift party were quickly left behind as percy led you to his cabin. there was always something eerie and lonely about poseidon’s cabin, but you were not about to bring your boyfriend into your cabin; castor and pollux were busy drinking at the party, but they could come back any time.

come dawn, you'd have to sneak out of cabin three. you couldn't risk being seen in percy's cabin--besides being against camp rules, that would cause such a scandal. but for now, you were okay with being a rulebreaker. and who could blame you? you were simply drunk on love.

I’m sorry this took so long to get out! I’ve been bombarded with schoolwork and am sick on top of that. also guys please don’t drink underage

divider by @saradika-graphics

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[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[popponn]

from the roots, to the blooms.

prologue: the inciting incident & the first naration.

— a beginning from both parts.

— sae and you, who have stood beside each other for a long time. sae and you, who keep many thoughts away from each other.

tags: sfw; angst with happy ending; fluffs; post canon—hanahaki au; depiction of illness (coughing), blood, etc.; childhood friends & best friends; pinning; it gets worse before it gets better; cohabitation & domesticity; emotional constipation. wc: 933.

masterlist. ; next

— ■■■■■ and the inciting incident, the flowers.

When Sae coughs up the first petal out of his throat, he wonders if this would be his death sentence.

They are purple, dressed and decorated with the maroon coating of blood, staring at him as they lay on the bottom of the white sink. Sae can't put a name to that flower, but he is not dumb. He knows who they are for.

Sae remembers you, who just visited him last night through a phone call—a childhood friend, a friend he somehow manages to keep through these years, despite everything that has happened—talking about stories and movies made out of morons with their unrequited feelings. Sae scoffed at them, telling you that should have spent your time doing something better than turning yourself into a mindless audience for such nonsense. You chided him then, jokingly saying that someone with only soccer in his head of course would have a hard time understanding such a thing.

It is so funny how it all turned out now.

Itoshi Sae, twenty-four and at the height of his career, stares at his own reflection in the mirror. The room feels smaller and dingy even without anything changing. The marble walls around him felt similar to a caging rib. In the background of his head, the sound of your laugh is as nostalgic as it is suffocating.

In the forefront of it is everything he manages to get and steal back—the raucous sounds of cheers, the swishing of the winning goal against the net, and that brittle yet slowly healing brotherhood of his—

The answer is obvious. The cost of each choice is clear. Sae knows what he should do. A nonsensical nonsense compared to everything he has. And yet.

In the eyes of his reflection, he finds no conviction to take away every feeling he has for you despite knowing the price for it.

A feeling found its weight inside him, weighing itself far heavier than the boulder that pushed against his chest as he coughed up the second petal and more. Sae doesn’t try to put a name on it. He takes in the burning pain that claws its way out from his chest to his throat and stares vacantly at the flowers.

Hydrangea and violets, later, he learns.

On their own, they feel like a penitence.

— the narration, the belief, spoken by ●●●●●.

Itoshi Sae is an odd person who is very cold and distant, yet undeniably beautiful. Looking at him, you could describe him as if he is a masterpiece, a constellation, and a lone figure that is carved in near perfection. It is difficult—most of the time, as your experience had taught you—but, despite it all, anyone could know him, anyone could understand him.

However, putting one’s self in the same pedestal as him would be a whole different story to tell. It isn't impossible. Rin and many others had proven that it was not impossible.

But, to you, you had since long accepted that it would be impossible for you.

Sae, at nine, had been far more excellent than you could ever hope to be. Surrounded and drowned in praises from adults, scoffing at your childish amusement towards space and seas and flowers. Hands wrapping around his little brother’s and around trophies with nonchalance, whilst yours were still holding to pencils and report cards.

Sae, at fourteen, had placed himself in a distance far enough that you had nearly lost him. Sparse conversations and long silence filled with formal, stiff wording from the news about him. Going through it all, it was probably a miracle you could still have a part in his life afterward.

Then, Sae, at twenty-four. Reaching a height and a place that you could have never fathom to imagine. Even a brighter star than before, whilst you watch his rise to glory from the audience’s seat. It isn't a bad thing. There is no bitterness of envy or such in you. In fact, you are very happy for him.

Sae is a hard worker. Sae is hard on himself. Sae deserves all of his successes more than anyone in this world—in a very simple and affectionate manner, that is your feelings towards him through all these years. It is light and ever-present, one that is accompanied by laughs and claps reserved for your childhood friend.

You have always observed him merrily. An odd fondness and sense of companionship grew as Sae let you slot your very mundane self beside his very exceptional self. In each moment he let you witness, the more it is hammered down to you that you are a rare spectator to the birth of something that will exist far beyond you.

Put simply, perhaps, that is how from the very start, you know what your role entails. Perhaps, the reason you are able to stay by his side through all these years because you understand this.

You are simply being conscious of the difference between the two of you. After all, there are no poets who speak of the gods in a way that equates themselves with the celestials. They are different enough for whatever fondness between them to have a natural boundaries on its own without any of them having to put an effort on it.

You are Itoshi Sae’s friend.

You are Itoshi Sae’s spectator.

You are a company that stands behind the line neither you nor Itoshi Sae could ever cross.

Put simply, perhaps, that was why from the very start, it was impossible for you to fall in love with Itoshi Sae.

masterlist. ; next

notes: my dream was to write a sae angst, so here we are. i hope i did good & also you enjoyed this prologue ʚ(˶•-•˶)ɞ ❀ to my baeby @doobea thank you so much for beta-ing this. i was so nervous publishing this you helped this ol me's confidence a lot ;;;;;; to everyone who supported the masterlist post too, thank you;; in the next chapter these the story of these two will start, along with the specific details of such and such. i hope you will look forward to it. nonetheless, once again, thank you for reading! :> if you would give me your feedback, i would be very happy ヾ(´⌣`)ノ have a nice day!

taglist ♡ : @wooasecret @lectris00 @natsukicookies @aluvslink @weirdbutpr3tty @vollereix @raphsimp @scaraslover

please do contact me in case you wanna be added or taken out ouf the taglist ♡ thank you for joining in! :>

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The Eternal Night (Part 1)

Summary: You ask for protection from the Night Lord in the hope of being saved from other space marines. Not realizing that you yourself walked into a mousetrap.

Jago Sevatarion/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, power imbalance, violence, body horror, torture, predator/prey

Word count: 2560

Song: She Wants Revenge - Out Of Control

But then she noticed me glance at her I had no choice but to dance with her

The funny thing is that mothiir just recently released headcanons about the first captain. Today is Sevatar's day.

The very thought of serving on a Night Lords ship was terrifying. Many remembrancers chose Fulgrim or Horus Lupercal. Some ventured to the Conqueror. But as your lady noted, only the bravest and courageous are ready to board the Nightfall.

Stupid and naive, you wanted to tell her. But your mistress was too self-confident, too spoiled to listen to anyone. She justified her reckless action by arguing that the Night Lords were still Astartes, the Space Marines of the Imperium. And you…

What are you? You were her personal maid. You weren't supposed to have an opinion. You kind of missed freedom. But is it better to be a healthy serf than a hungry child? You are already lucky that her kind family took you into their home.

But while cleaning the mistress’s room on Nightfall, you want to return to the depths of poverty. It was dark here. Cold. And scary. No matter how much you smelled the chlorine or your lady's perfume, you couldn't get rid of the smell of blood. It seemed to be absorbed into the ship.

You behaved as quiet as a mouse. Didn’t interfere, didn’t talk too much. Made friends with a couple of serfs without distracting them from their work. Tried not to tremble in the presence of the Astartes passing by. The main thing is to continue to remain invisible. Hide in the darkness and it doesn’t matter what these lords rule the night.

The lady was an easy prey. She just asked to be gutted. You shouldn't think that way, but it was true. The way her knees shook and she sweated out of fear. Although it was difficult not to do so when even in the quietest corners of the ship distant cries of pain could be heard.

“I'm so scared. They look like that, as if a little longer and they will twist my head.” - the lady once complained to you before going to bed.

“You shouldn’t be afraid. This won't happen." - you calmly notice. The girl’s calm face, full of hope, changes to horror and disgust as soon as you continue your thought. - “First they will skin you alive.”

Compared to her, you seemed so gloomy and strange. Weird. The other servants jokingly called you lady crow. Although you didn't understand the humor. Nightfall looked more like a burial ground. How could you want to stay here for even one minute if you are not a scavenger? Besides, you are not a bird, you are a human.

And despite this, your mistress tried to gain respect among mortals who had seen the real horrors of war. And her desperate attempts to personally meet Konrad Curze are akin to a desire to quickly depart to the afterworld.

And she achieved her goal. Even more. The primarch himself decided to visit the chambers of the restless scribe. Either out of idle curiosity or out of a desire to calm down the annoying woman. Just the knock on the door sent a shiver down your spine, and his massive black figure in the doorway sent a terrible feeling of foreboding.

Konrad Curze, in his grim elegance, entered the chamber and greeted the woman. And then he looked at you. Long and drawn out, cold and concentrated. His black eyes probed every piece of your flesh and soul. And then he smiled.

The lips stretched to the ears, revealing clawed teeth. But the worst thing was when he laughed a nasty laugh. The kind that makes your bones crack. He continued to look at you and laugh, putting the lady in a stupor. And scaring you terribly. A gloomy foreboding clouded the little mortal heart, and the words only nailed you more firmly to the floor.

“How interesting~” - the primarch grinned carnivorously while saliva collected in the corners of his mouth. - “The little mouse will offer itself to the crow. And he will only be glad. What's worse? To be eaten by scoundrels or to be protected by a monster?”

He bursts out laughing again, this time quiet. He sighs, disgustingly satisfied. Until he finally pays attention to your mistress. And something in his face changes. You can’t explain it, but it’s as if doom and anticipatory bloodthirstiness have merged into one. As if Konrad Curze saw something terrible. And he liked it.

“Perhaps we should discuss everything in private,” his voice softly envelops you like night. It is impossible to explain how a man turned from madman to primarch. Although no one knows whether the Emperor's son can go mad.

Your mistress nods and with a wave of her hand kicks you out of the chambers. You quickly leave the room, closing the door behind you. The primal desire to hide increased a hundredfold. You rush to one of your secluded places, which you discovered by accident. For the first time in your life, not watching the road and not hiding too much from prying eyes.

You should never give in to fear. You must always be on your guard. A momentary weakness can and does lighten the soul. But you will definitely have to pay later. And you understand this as soon as you hit your forehead on something iron at a turn.

A characteristic sound is heard and you whine and grab your forehead. There will be a bump and most likely a huge one. But the pain just vanishes when you understand where it came from. And especially when you hear an unpleasant chuckle.

He looked intimidating. Outstretched wings of a gargoyle and a skull on a huge armor not intended for an ordinary mortal. The characteristic appearance of the Nostraman did not frighten you. As well as the scars on the eyebrow and lip.

But his smile was scary. How his black eyes filled with sparkle, and the corners of his lips twitched strangely. It’s as if someone is touching the threads sewn into the skin of a corpse, imitating human living emotions. All the sons of Curze were terrifying, their “smiles” were more like the grin of animals. But this one was different.

“Careful, little one. If you had met one of my brothers, you would already be hanging on a hook” - his eyes sparkled with mischief, but nothing more. - “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

You swallowed. Didn’t want to answer, but silence could only provoke.

“My lady is speaking with Konrad Curze.” - the unpleasant meeting still echoed in your brain. It became more uncomfortable. - “I was told not to interfere.”

“Oh, that annoying scribe still managed to snag a meeting with the primarch. Your mistress talks too much and goes where she shouldn't. These usually end up with their guts out.” The man smirked and looked at you. Attentively. Like a carcass ready for slaughter. - “And where are you going?”

That's why you didn't want to get caught by the Night Lords. They played with mortals as if they were food. Important people for the Legion were still protected, but the serfs were meat. One is gone, it’s easy to replace it with a second one. The only thing that saved you was to be the remembrancer’s serf, her personal maid. Although judging by the attitude of the Space Marines towards her, this could only egg them on.

“To the compartment” - you don’t want to say where you’re going, but there’s no choice. In addition, it is unlikely that the Astartes will specify the exact location of your secret home. - “Into the trash compartment.”

A strange range of surprise spreads across the man’s face. Not disgust, but misunderstanding.

“Why the hell did you decide to go there?”

“There are a lot of rats there. They are my friends” - you almost calmed down as soon as you remembered the familiar sounds coming from under the garbage. You almost whisper a confession. - “They calm me down with their rustling.”

It was true. They listened to your stories, entertained you with fights between each other. They were soft and fluffy, although dirty. They were not evil from birth, they simply survived as best they could in such a place. And alas, the rats were much better than some of the people here.

The man just chuckled at these words. Did it seem to you or did a strange understanding flash in his eyes? And curiosity.

“Well then go.”

Not believing your luck, you open your mouth in amazement and blink your eyes. But you obey. While he gives you a head start, you need to run. There is no need to waste your luck. Especially when the one who could easily break you and not notice, lets you go while the going's good.

“And since they calm you down, mouse,” you turn around sharply and notice the same terrifying smile. But this time it's not scared. Something in a man changes when he calls out to you. - “It’s worth thanking them. Bring them meat... and fresh is best.”

Good advice. Maybe you're already used to Nightfall or this Night Lord seems less terrible. Or maybe you should really bring your little friends a well-deserved reward. You'll try to find something fresh and something... not made from human flesh.

You nod and quickly, trying not to attract attention, walk further down the corridor. You wish you could say that you didn’t feel the Space Marine’s gaze on you. But you felt it even when your figure disappeared from his gaze. Dead, mischievous, carnivorous. It was as if he had just found an interesting prey, but decided to let it go.

For a while.

***

You started to notice him. Previously all Space Marines looked alike. You just didn't look closely. Why the hell do you need this if they will torture you almost equally. But he wasn't like that. Or rather, a little more... humane? Kind? No, those are suitable. Wrong. Yes, that's much better.

First captain. Jago Sevatarion. You learned the name and title from one of the local serfs. You immediately became friends with him when you saw him. He was old. That's why you called him grandpa. He lasted a long time. Good sign.

Grandpa said that you were very lucky that the captain didn’t touch you. He did not participate in the local amusements so often, talking more with the primarch. Or keeping an eye on other Space Marines and a Atramentar. But still he was just as sadistic as the others. He killed, dismembered, skinned with grim pleasure. You couldn’t help but notice that he was the most feared of all. Unpleasant vibrations emanated from him.

It seemed like you were scared too. But it seems not. Alas, just as you were strange in childhood, you remains so. Although the local inhabitants even liked it. As if you almost one of them, unlike the other servants of the scribe. But you really couldn’t understand why no one noticed.

His weirdness. How he communicates with a couple of mortals. The same ones. You were sure he was keeping an eye on them. He made sure nothing bad happened to them. And he didn't touch you either. It is unlikely that your “status” would in any way prevent Sevatarion from quenching his thirst for murder. And he didn't laugh at your friendship with rats. Didn't find it disgusting or weird. It was nice gesture.

He also began to notice you. On distance. Didn't come up to you, didn't call you. No need. It’s just that now he knew what kind of new person was running around here. The Astartes began to notice you in the shadows, as you headed towards the rats or the local serfs. You didn’t see, but you were almost sure that at such moments he smiled unpleasantly.

Although probably all the Space Marines smiled when Curze called your mistress a traitor. He said that she decided to steal something and violated the Imperial Truth. You still couldn’t understand the words of the old serf who caught you in the corridor.

Rave. Your mistress was spoiled and annoying, but she would never betray the Imperium. She wouldn't even have such a thought. Is this a mistake or some kind of joke? The primarch could not blame her for something she had not done. Did he really decide to come up with justice just to send her to her death? She was kind. She didn't deserve it.

But a judgment is a judgment. Grandpa wasn't making fun of you. Now you and the other servants belonged to the Legion. But given the way this happened, you are unlikely to stay here for long. Alive.

With a feeling of guilt and tears in your eyes, you look at her mutilated corpse, nailed to one of the gates. They removed the skin from her, and then they squeezed out the body so that all the bones were broken, and most of the blood flowed away. Now her eyeless body, folded like a rag, looked at you accusingly.

Once you said that they would skin her, don't you?

Footsteps are heard behind you. Not lurking, but quiet. If you can say so, taking into account the armor of the Space Marines. You turn around and see Jago Sevatarion behind. The captain looks...tired. It was like he hadn't slept for days or weeks. A little bored. But quite happy with his work.

Apparently he also took part in the verdict.

“Your screaming scribe got into trouble herself, little mouse. You shouldn't mourn her when your life hangs by a thread. You will serve the Legion well and we will not touch you. Maybe." - the man falls silent and looks at you carefully. - “Or are you so used to being a personal servant?”

Maybe. If this world were a little kinder, you would even call your mistress a friend. But the Galaxy is full of horrors, and your patroness has turned into a leather rag. And you will be the same if you get caught. Or if you are not protected...

Grandpa said he was lucky. He had a tattoo. The ink mixed with the blood of the Space Marine he served. And no one touched him. Nobody offended him. Because he was not a “free” serf. He was no one's toy on the road. He had his own tormentor. But it's better than the unknown. Isn't it?

The First Captain raised an eyebrow. Apparently a little hope slipped across your sad face. It’s alarming to ask, scary to beg. But what choice do you have? Sooner or later you will be found and gutted. So you have to take risks.

“Take me to you,” you almost devour the man with your eyes, trying not to cower in fear. - “I will serve you. I'll be obedient. Will not interfere. I'm very quiet. Please."

You didn’t know why you mentioned that you are quiet. It came out on its own. The Night Lords rather like screaming, begging, and crying. The louder the better. But before your eyes was the tired appearance of the first captain. Even now he didn't look his best. Although something lights up in his eyes. For a moment, the walking corpse looks almost alive. A terrible sight.

“Call me Sevatar.” - the voice is surprisingly soft and relaxed. You look at him in disbelief. The man just grins at your funny look.

"This means?"

"Yes."

[tryingmybestpls]

I Know The End

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: She meets him. They fall in love. She dies, he mourns. The cycle continues.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, mildly graphic descriptions of death, grief, mentions of injury

In every universe, she dies.

It was a canon event-completely unstoppable if they wanted the multiverse to stay together.

Every Spider-Person knew this. Every time they saw a version of her at HQ, they knew not to get too attached. She'd disappear and another version would take its place, looking slightly different from the previous version of her, but her nonetheless.

In every universe, she also fell in love with Miguel O'Hara.

It was a canon event and Miguel had to just let it happen, no matter how much it hurt him.

Every time she'd swing into his life, he had to let the cards fall where they may, even if he knew exactly where they led to.

In one universe, she had a baby who looked just like the two of them. She balanced being a mom and being Spider-Woman almost effortlessly. Miguel, once again, was able to play dad, was able to pretend like this could be his life. He would spend the night in her universe, sleeping with her in the bed, helping her with the midnight diaper changes and three a.m. feedings. Hell, he had even thought about marrying her, wanting so bad to ignore the canon, wanting to find a way that he can have his cake and eat it too.

She had gotten impaled on some rebar after saving a kid from Green Goblin and the others had got there too late to do anything about it. Peter B. Parker had watched as Miguel lifted her off of it, her blood staining his suit. He could hear as his friend whispered something to her over and over in Spanish. Peter had kept his distance, knowing that Miguel needed this moment. Her daughter-the one that had his hair and her eyes-went to live with her mother's family in California.

In another, she was a nurse. She helped save lives off and on the clock. She would tend to the other Spider-People's wounds, stitching them up when needed, giving IV's and injections and millions other things. They had spent so many nights together in his room post-mission where she’d take care of him. Her lip drawn between her teeth as she carefully focused on her work. As soon as she was done, as soon as she came out of that almost trance-like state, his lips would be on her skin, wanting to repay her. Medical supplies would be tossed to the floor, injuries ignored.

She had gotten taken out by her universe's Doc Ock. Miguel had personally hunted him down after that, unable to control his rage. Peter B. and Hobie had to drag him off of the guy.

In one, she had been married to someone else, but that hadn't stopped the relationship from forming. She'd slip away from her universe and into Miguel's, and in between helping take down anomalies, she'd be in his bed. She had been sick the whole time and every time she used her powers she had gotten worse. They could all see it-the gradual decline even if she wouldn’t tell them outright, but Miguel knew. He wouldn't let her do missions anymore, but she still continued to be Spider-Woman in her universe. She died in her sleep beside the man she was married to, but not the one she loved. Miguel had attended the funeral, but had kept his distance. He had waited and watched as she had been buried. He had been the last one to leave the cemetery that day.

There were versions of her that were artists, models, chefs, actresses, teachers, but they were all her. And they all fell in love with him, one after another. No one could stop it, no one could prevent it. It was just fate.

She meets him. They fall in love. He mourns. And then the cycle continues.

The Y/N they had right now, she has lasted longer than all of the others. She had been with them for a few years now, which has felt like a lifetime compared to the time they got with the rest of them. That had only made them all uneasy. Every mission, every missed visit to HQ, they all thought that was going to be it, but then she'd show up, a smile on her face and jokes spilling out of her mouth without a second thought . Miguel was constantly checking in on her, which was something she teased him about.

"I guess you really do like me, eh bug boy?"

God, he did.

It was terrifying how attached to her he was, how his whole demeanor seemed to change as soon as she enters a room. His stoicism and broodiness completely melts away, no instead he gives her a version of himself that no one else sees (save for maybe Mayday-she's a baby, so how could he be a dick to her?). At first, Jess and Peter B. used to tease him about it, but as Y/N died over and over, the teasing came to an end. Now all they could offer was sad smiles when Miguel talked about her.

He was selfish-he wished he could keep her at HQ forever. Miguel wanted to ignore the canon and just hold onto her as long as he could, keeping her all to himself. Who cares if the multiverse falls apart? He’d have her, he’d have a life with her. That’s all he needed, isn’t it?

But he’d never go against the canon.

-

"I know, you know. How this ends. That we are doomed to repeat this over and over." She announces one right, moonlight-or at least what she thinks is moonlight-streaming in through the gaps of his curtains, his room smelling like the two of them-a mixture of her perfume, his cologne, sweat, and sex. Her finger absentmindedly traces a mark she’d had left on his skin moments ago. He sits up in bed, looking at her with wide eyes. His mind was racing. Had someone told her? Had he somehow let it slip? How did she know?

"Y-You do? Mierda. Why didn't you say anything?" He questions, his brows furrowed together. She shrugs, tucking an arm behind her head as she looks at him, as if it wasn't a big deal that she knew about her own coming demise.

"What's the point, cariño? I die, I come back, this starts all over again. Why spoil the time I get with you?" She responds, her eyes focused on him, "It's me and you, always."

"It's me and you, always."

She said it so nonchalantly, as if a piece of him doesn't die with every version of her that does. As if he doesn’t meticulously check for signs of the next version of her after she disappears from his life. As if it doesn’t feel like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders when she starts to don her black and pink Spider suit, because he knows he’ll be with her soon. He lets his eyes shut for a moment as her fingers trace a scar on his shoulder. He thinks about what he should say, about if he should be upset that she knew and didn't tell him. But it's Y/N, and he can't bring himself to be mad at her.

"How long have you known?" Miguel asks, his eyes opening and landing on her. In the moonlight, he could see that her neck and chest were littered with marks-bruising from sucking at her skin, angry red lines from where he had dragged his fangs against her, puncture marks from biting her. They had already started to heal, just like the matching marks on his skin had started to.

"I think we all know-at least I did. We get bits and pieces of it, of you mainly. Of a life with you. I think for the most part, we all think it's a dream-that you're just a hot guy in a dream and then we meet you." Y/N explains, her gaze turning soft as the corners of her mouth turn upward. He keeps himself from rolling his eyes at her little “hot” compliment, his mind still reeling.

The rest is left unsaid-the fact that she can see all the different ways she has met her end, how she knows how it feels to die. The feeling of falling on that rebar, the sickening snap of her neck, her being strangled by a Doc Ock’s tentacle, the crushing feeling of a building falling on top of her, choking on her own blood, the feeling of her organs spilling out-

Sometimes she’ll reach down and expect to feel metal sticking out of her, tearing her apart.

"And you're-You're okay with that?" Miguel's eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at her. Her eyes were on him, but she wasn’t there, not fully. He wished he could take a peak inside of her mind, wanting-no, needing to know how much she could remember. He studies her face in the moonlight, trying to read her, trying to understand how she could be so…okay with all of this.

"I still get a forever with you, don't I? I still get to live a life with you, even if it's just bits and pieces." Her voice is soft as her smile starts to grow ever so slightly, "And I'd take that any day."

His lips are suddenly against hers once more, his hand cupping her cheek. She’s a little surprised, but returns it eagerly, her hand slipping into his locks, holding him to her. Y/N knows that Miguel isn’t good at expressing his feelings, that talking about his feelings is like pulling teeth for him. She also knows what the kiss means, what he wants to say. Each kiss, each bite, each thrust-she can decipher them all.

I wish we had more time.

I wish it wasn’t like this.

I want this, with you, forever.

This isn’t enough.

I can’t keep watching you die over and over.

I need you.

It’s me and you always.

-

This Y/N still meets her end, just like the dozens of others before her.

When she goes this time, she’s in his arms, crimson spilling out of her, covering both of them. She’s looking up at him, tears in her eyes from the pain as she gives him a small, pained smile.

“Don’t be sad, pendejo. I’ll see you again, yeah?” She says hoarsely, blood covering her lips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. He stays there a moment, his eyes shut. When he pulls away, there’s tears streaming down her face, but she is still trying to smile at him, trying to tease him. Even like this, she’s still trying to make him feel better. So Miguel tries to smile back at her, but he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.

“Yeah. You’ll see me again.” He murmurs, wiping away her tears. It’s more like he’s reminding himself rather than agreeing with her. He swallows the lump in his throat, “It’s you and me.”

“It’s you and me.” Y/N manages to get out, her breathing more ragged. Her hand moves to rest on top of his, where’s he’s putting pressure on her wound even though they both know there’s no point. Her fingers intertwine with his and he holds her hand. There’s tears streaming down his face, his like there is every time he watches her dies.

Miguel just sits there, holding her hand long after her body stills, her head laying on his chest. He knows eventually he will have to get up, that he will have to take her back to her universe. For now, he just sits there with her, holding her body to his, quietly telling her all of the things that were left unsaid.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 4 || touya x fem!oc [modern au]

chapter summary: Shouto finds out about a secret she held from Touya. Meanwhile, Touya recalls a certain darkness within himself.

themes: mentions of unplanned pregnancy, sex, ED, SA, abuse, violence, etc. (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: I haven't updated for so long 'cause I got busy with attending social events and life 😭

masterlist

Shouto took in the apartment where she lived as the woman silently prepared tea in the kitchen. It was a decent apartment, nonetheless. There was no tarnished paint or specks of dust in sight. Everything was well kept, and the place smelled so good that you would think you were in a 5-star hotel. What caught his eye was his brother's picture frame on this one table at the corner by the couch. It was Touya sitting on a bench at the park while sipping his iced coffee. If one would look closely, there were still dark specks at his brother's hair roots. It was like he had his hair freshly dyed in white.

"I hope green tea is to your liking," she mumbled, settling the tray on the table as she noticed Shouto's line of attention.

Shouto quickly turned to her and bowed slightly. "I don't mind," he replied as Kaori sat on the couch beside him.

"Umm..." She picked up her cup to warm herself, remembering how she secretly took that picture of Touya even if she had no idea if he was fond of having pictures taken of him or not. "I had no other pictures of Touya in my phone, so that was the first thing I took. I think he looks so good there."

Shouto took a sip of his tea. "Oh."

Silence. What should she do? It has been a while since she last heard of an update from Touya. The last night they were together was bliss. Kaori could even compare it to the feeling of finally reaching heaven because, for the first time, Touya opened himself up to her. He told her who he really was. Todoroki Touya, the oldest son of Todoroki Enji (CEO of Endeavor Corp.) and Todoroki Rei (one of the most famous models in Japan). He ran away at the age of 19 and fend for himself, doing odd jobs until he met her and she took him in without question. Touya told her meeting her was the best thing that happened ever since he left home, that she was his miracle of some sort in his own hell.

He just didn't tell her personally that he had to leave for her sake. She understood why he couldn't. If he did, it would make it harder for him to leave. He had seen her cry many times before, but that time was different, and leaving the person he loved the most would hurt him. Of course, she hurt too. Her world was suddenly put to a halt, not knowing how to start a life without Touya being physically there, and only the letter he left for her was her reminder that he would still come back. Nonetheless, it was still hard; not to mention the fact that she found out later that she was 3 weeks pregnant with his child.

So when his youngest brother came to personally deliver his letter, it came to her as a relief—that Touya was serious about wanting to be together with her; that he was still working on himself so he could be the man she deserved. But, this doesn't mean she was not having second thoughts, especially now that there was a human living inside her body.

"How is he?" she asked nervously.

"Touya-nii is doing fine. I don't know about anything else but he's doing his best to combat his addiction," Shouto replied truthfully. "He only started writing to us after his 4-month stay there, and he didn't write too much after, so that's what we only know."

She imagined Touya probably lashing out on his own as he battled within himself to fight his alcohol and cigarette dependency, but she also believed he would manage out there. After all, he said in his first letter that he would do everything just to be with her again, and if his words were true, he would make sure of it.

"How far along?" This time, it was Shouto's turn to ask. Honestly, it was shocking for him to find out about her pregnancy, and he kind of worried about her since all his eldest brother knew was, she was handling herself all alone. It's not a good thing considering she's carrying his nephew inside her.

"6... turning 7," she answered meekly, trying not to break down or her negative feelings might affect her child.

"Does he know?"

Her awkward silence already gave it away for him, though. So Touya-nii doesn't know. And when she mentioned the number of months, Shouto had to do a quick calculation in his head before he deduced when it all started.

The day before he returned? Or maybe a few days before he returned? Shouto gave a brief glance at her who worriedly placed a hand on her belly and sighed. It would be bad for her to see Touya-nii since she's pregnant. The additional stress from the treatment center will be too much.

"Do you want to tell him?"

She nodded, but she was still hesitant about it as she fiddled with her skirt and mustered the courage to speak what was in her mind.

"Can you please not tell Touya about this?" she requested. "I know this is important for him too, but you see... I..." This was embarrassing; she should be ashamed. "This pregnancy... I... it shouldn't happen in the first place. It's my mistake."

Shoto's mind went blank as a rush of painful memories flooded in, triggered by her words. It was a stark reminder of the hardships he and his siblings endured during their childhood.

The pregnancy... it shouldn't happen... The pregnancy... is a mistake?

Upon seeing his crest-fallen face, she immediately tried to clear things up, aware of Touya's painful childhood with his siblings. "I didn't mean it like that, S-Shouto-kun! It's just that... I wasn't supposed to be... pregnant. Y-Yeah, that was it."

Shouto was relieved, and to think he thought she might still be considering abortion.

"Touya deserves to know his son with me," she started, "but the thing is... I forgot my pill intake, hence my pregnancy. I-I know it's my fault for being stupid, and I just don't want to push the responsibility on him."

Shouto took in her words, carefully analyzing them. Well, it's a good thing it wasn't as grave as their parents' situation before. But still, this was a delicate situation.

"Understood. I won't tell him anything."

"T-Thank you."

Then he added, "Just so you know..."

"Hm?"

"I don't think Touya-nii would think of it as a mistake."

She was confused. "Oh... okay."

"If it's any consolation, you did it together."

She wanted to cry at his words. Of course, he was a Todoroki. This shouldn't surprise her if Shouto had the same foul mouth as Touya, even though the youngest Todoroki only meant to comfort her.

"And... can I have a request?"

"Yes?"

"Can I take a picture of you? Just a proof to Touya-nii that I went here."

"But..."

"Only your face will do."

In a few seconds, she composed herself as Shouto readied his phone camera.

"Smile."

Snap.

------

Touya scrutinized the picture in his hand, eyes narrowing into slits and one could see the slight distaste as Shouto only sat in front of him like he did nothing wrong. Well, it was a good picture of her with a soft smile on her face, but the thing is, the picture kind of felt forced. Well, it was a given since Touya hadn't formally introduced her to his family.

But still...

"I don't think it's blurred though," Shouto pointed out seriously.

"What do you think of me? Blind?" Touya retorted in annoyance. "But why is she looking like she's posing for an ID?"

Shouto tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Touya waved off in negation, not wanting to elaborate on the topic. "Did she say anything?"

"Like what?"

Touya got a bit flustered, looking away from his brother to hide the blush creeping on his face. "Like... you know..."

Shouto was only dumbfounded. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Touya grumbled. So much for relying on his youngest brother when he doesn't understand basic things in life. "Never mind. Just wanna know if she was doing okay."

"She's..." She's pregnant; almost 7 months in. "She's doing okay. She had only been eating snacks and fruits when I met her."

Touya couldn't hide his surprise as he made this unexpected discovery, which immediately caught his attention and made Shouto more alert and aware.

"Is something wrong, Touya-nii?"

"She... doesn't eat anything aside from soup."

Touya could remember her eating routine and it was so hellish she might even survive by just living off water. She had been a tad insecure when she first learned about her ex cheating on her, so she decided to lose weight and fit his standards. But she knew she wouldn't be able to, so she was left with a hidden eating disorder, making her reject all kinds of food given to her, except for soup. Anything filled with broth was the only way she would eat food.

He found this trait later on when he decided to order pizza for them, only for her not even to finish a slice and puke it all out in disgust, crying to him that she couldn't eat as much as she did before. To this day, cursing and ruining her ex's life (even when he was out of the picture) had become his golden dream that he swore if he ever saw him again, he'd have him begging for his life.

"Is that... bad?" Shouto pondered. "I mean, soup is good."

"So... what was she eating?" Touya quickly reverted the topic to the food.

"She drank green tea and ate 2 whole oranges. Then she snacked on pumpkin seeds."

Touya smiled fondly at that. "That's a relief then."

------

Touya had almost reached the 8-month mark in the treatment center when he decided that the best way to shut himself off from the rest of the world was in the library, reading through the random books he could find. Most of them were self-help books and a few Christian ones for those who prefer reading the bible. But honestly, Touya got so bored of them that he opted for that mini section with science and math, solving the equations in every subject exercise like he did whenever he skipped classes.

Being one of the top performers back then made his name so prominent that students were either amazed or intimated by him, whispers following him around along with the name of his parents. Well, what could he expect? His father was one of the richest guys in Japan, and his mom was one of the most famous models of her generation. Gossip and media would really follow him and his siblings around like a damn plague.

As he was busy with his own time, the door suddenly slid open and a boy entered looking scared, only to sigh in relief and mumble, "It's a man." Judging from the bruises and the way he was covering his skin with his long sleeves, Touya already had an idea, and it reminded him of the old days. As such, he stood up, taking the book with him and exiting the library.

The boy felt a bit ashamed by this, but before he could go out the door, he grabbed a random adult coloring book and a set of colored pencils to cure his boredom and finally left the place.

------

Touya was in his room, eating his cigarette candies as he was busy coloring the pages of the adult coloring book, shading the random pictures as he recalled in his head all the jobs he had taken and how they all affected him in some way. To be honest, it opened a whole new world for him, making him see much more painful things in life than the things his father did to him.

He got his first job from a senpai from his school, diligently working in a convenience store as their cashier. So far, it was a tame job and he could pay off his rent and get to eat 3 meals a day. It wasn't enough for him to buy him his alcohol and cigarettes though. After all, he wasn't the same rich kid he was before, so money had been an issue for him as a high school dropout. So at night, he would take a part-time job at the nearest warehouse, checking inventory of every item to be delivered and helping out in carrying boxes to trucks. When his day job wasn't paying well, he shifted to a logistics company where he was assigned as a staff member to deliver items via motorcycle. He was secretly glad he learned how to ride bikes by constantly being in the arcade with a few "friends" from school (Who was he kidding, though? They weren't friends. They were pawns he used to keep up the good son facade.)

When he got tired of doing two jobs at once, that's when a random guy from work told him there was an opening for an assistant bartender job at a certain host bar at the Red District, something along the lines of: "You won't be a host there. You'll just be trained to mix drinks and serve them to the guests, that's all." Touya was skeptical about it at first, but he badly needed the money, and he was craving for some rest in between so he took a shot. Truth be told, he was just really trained to assist the bartender in making the drinks.

It was only that until there was an opportunity.

------

"Do you think sex is fun?" Touya suddenly asked his therapist, who seemingly paused from taking notes on his file.

"Come again?" The therapist heard what he said. He just had to make sure he heard it right before answering.

Touya sighed. "I said, do you think sex is fun?"

The therapist put down his file on his desk, clearing his throat to feign his embarrassment. It was unusual for Touya to ask questions so might as well provide an appropriate answer for that.

"It depends on the experience and with whom I did it with," he supplied. "If both people are communicating with each other properly and making sure each other's needs are met, then I think it would be a fun experience."

Touya stared blankly, probably seeing through his answer and thinking if it was right or wrong. Maybe he wanted an honest answer. He didn't know since the eldest Todoroki son was not giving hints on what was going on in his mind.

"I didn't think of sex as fun though," he revealed.

"And why is that?"

Touya shrugged nonchalantly. "Sex for me is a chore."

"Does this have something to do with your job at the host club?"

"Partly." A pause. "I don't know."

"So why is sex for you a chore?"

Silence. Touya was collecting his thoughts, and he thinks maybe he was the weird fucker who doesn't think of sex being equal to satisfaction or pleasure. Well, not until with her, of course. But for him, in general, it was a chore.

"I actually worked as an assistant bartender in a host club, and customers thought I was part of the club's gig where the host acts as a bartender," he started his story, the awful memories coming back into pieces was enough to leave a foul taste at the tip of his tongue. "The owner thought it would be nice if I could be a host during Mondays and Fridays—on a condition that a customer cannot choose which host she wanted for the night."

"So you're like the secret host of the club in case they cannot choose who they wanna be with," the therapist deduced.

"Yes."

"So how did sex becoming a chore for you is related to this?"

And then, Touya opened Pandora's box and the darkness he held inside him.

next chap

masterlist

tagging: @rueclfer @crookedherringcolorclod @suksatoru @skiiyoomin @allurearia @m-4399

[mercyreg]

“Just Barely.”

Notes at the end!!

Strollonso “Just Barely.”

Taglist: @spookystitchery @rockingpeeble @wawawaka @sweet-allien

Model!Lance , Driver!Fernando

Summary (What started it all) :: “A possible fic where big shot model Lance spends his 20th birthday at a club where he goes home with someone, That someone Just so happens to be a World Champion Formula One Racer. More specifically Fernando Alonso. Only to find He is now the cover boy for his team by a phone call a day later.”

Day 1 ? Chapter 1?

The music was loud and the colored lights were glaring out into the streets, a beautiful glance at the party going on inside whenever the door slung open to yet another mind who wished to drown in the place. It was exactly what Lance wanted at least. The only problem being his age which was what most of his friends argued, yet it really wasn’t a problem, not when he’s touring London. 

The life he lived for being so young as people would say, is eccentric, ecstatic. Ecstasy, and Sex bundled into one with the occasional flash of camera that caught his good side. Every side of him was his good side and damn did he know it. Lance took pride in the name he’d built for himself, The natural Stroll fame he received couldn’t compare to what the model had built up for himself over his career. The very same career people claim is too young to be as fair as he’s claimed. Truth being, when your father is a trillionaire and you get blessed with insanely good looks? You’re bound to be set in life. 

Lance handed over his ID, The line awaiting for the club had finally came own to him and the group of people he arrived with. The glance over his ID and a quick smile later, Lance was in the club. Him and the group he arrived with quickly found a table and started ordering drinks, all with loud cheers and celebrations to Lance. He didn’t see the big deal, It wasn’t a milestone like 21, 18, or 16 but he had a reputation to live up to. He was hardly like that in all reality. 

The hard drugs, endless sex, and partying wasn’t the life he lived. Not when he is who he is. Really he’d never done a hard drug in his life let alone have sex with regular drinking. The scathing stories of how majority of models came to be was just not one he lived. His father was already famous as it was, giving him a free easy gateway to any career possible. Lance was undeniable in front of a camera, He knew what to do and he did it well, He even took pride in it. For that exact reasoning he usually avoided.

He looked around the bar, his mind swirling with so many thoughts as he downed a shot handed to him, The souring taste of vodka hitting him like no other. Everyone had started migrating to the dance floor, the buzz of oncoming alcohol and loud music kept everyone in cheerful moods but Lance stayed sitting. His mind was on the offer his dad said he was given, He didn’t even know what it really was for besides the fact it was some random motor sport happening all over. He had a flight to catch to Spain for it in two days, His Spanish skills did need some improving anyways. A staff member waltzed over, drink in hand and a surprising look in his eyes as he hands Lance a drink he knew for a fact, He never ordered. 

“Drink on the house for you, It’s from a guy a few tables that way.” The guy said, seeming to be in a rush as he hurries off to do his job. Lance takes the drink eyeing it before taking a nimble sip of it, expecting a tarnishing taste to ruin his mood for the night but instead being met with a pleasant fruity mixture that made his eyes crinkle with a smile.

He looked in the direction the waiter had motioned to when the drink was handed to him, his eyes searching through the people until he made eye contact with a guy across the bar, Shining and mysterious brown eyes met his, a smile playing at the man’s lips as he raised his drink, nodding his head to Lance as he took a sip of his own drink. 

Now Lance would a flat liar to say he wasn’t intrigued by the man. He was good looking and rightfully so. What better thing to do than to go talk to him? He lived by a strict “You miss every chance you don’t take” lifestyle and he wasn’t going to abandon that now. He needed excitement in his life and older men did nothing more than fulfill that just right.

He got up, holding the drink gently between his fingers before walking over to the man, navigating his way through the crowded club goers with somewhat ease. “Hi there..” He says upon reaching the now clearly VIP, The line drawing right before the Older Man’s table. Lance leans on that very line, smiling his usual big smile.

“Hello there… mí Sol.” His accent thick as the words flowed, a glint in his eyes as he looked Lance up in down, taking in the delicious sight of the young man before him. Now Lance doesn’t know a lick of Spanish, nor has he ever cared but the man sitting front of him has him craving to hear every world roll of his tongue in the language. “I’m Lance.” He says, eyes gleaming as he looked at the older male. A smirk tugged at the Spaniard’s lips as he eyed Lance again as he said “Pleasure to meet you Lancito.. Call me Fernando.”

A devilish look was in his eyes, one that turned Lance on if he was being truthful. “Fernando? I like that.” The Canadian says, testing how the name feels on his tongue, evoking a dark gleam in Fernando’s eyes that caught his attention again. He tilted his head and smiled, doe eyes meeting a ravishing gaze. “How old are you, sweetheart.” His voice called over the music, making Lance lean in a bit more, the question sounding more like a demand. “20 Today, sir.” He replied swiftly out of habit, his eyes quickly meeting Fernando’s again to be met with a grin. “Oh you’re a young one..” He said more to himself if anything, taking a sip of the drink on his table, eye contact not wavering. “Just barely..” Is all Lance could say as Fernando motioned him closer with one finger. Lance knew one thing and one thing only he stepped through the VIP area, sitting his way to sit beside Fernando. 

Tonight is going to be fun.

Okay I know what you’re gonna say! I did not forget about this idea!! I just got wrapped up in a whole of Microfics and Drabble. (Expect those soon.) I did not proof read this but bear with me. I’ll try to upload every two days for This fix and “Visit A Far.” Hope you enjoyed it!!

[chaotic-nick]

a/n: im writing this on my phone because it's one of those days of moving on *again*, and Nanami is just the perfect guy for it. warnings: unedited, rusty fic-writing, hurt/comfort

nanami kento x reader, friends to lover au

It's satoru's annoying habit of suddenly leaving them whenever they were out that directed Kento's eyes at (Y/n). No one hasn't pointed out how they'd become softer when he looked at her in silence, listening to her hum. Even talk about literature that he'd never read. Though today in the crowded streets of a shopping district, they sat on a bench, his back straightened when she said,

"I'm not meant for marriage, wonderful realisation last night, ken-chan." The casualness in her tone, surprising his mind.

"I am," he countered. He was often the one to worry in secret. Wondering if he'll find the love his parents found in each other. and before them, his grandfather finding love in a foreign land. "is the floor mine or yours?"

"I wanna hear yours after mine!" she gleamed. "my ex, there was this love that we shared, you know. you're in your 20s once and there's so many things happening. compared to him, I'm a very big dreamer–"

"ambitious?"

"YES! ambitious," she offered him the bag of chips she opened, "and well, I can only be his type for so long before he found someone softer ... someone who wasn't like me— and then I thought, men really are all the same. So I settled with just wanting companionship." She shrugged, "or perhaps he scared me enough out of marriage. I'll never really know. You know I kept my hair short around him— cause he liked short haired girls."

"You've grown fond to it then?" He asked, clenching him jaw.

"No, not really, I like being adventurous with my hair and you can only do so much. So, kento, why marriage?"

"I've grown up around love—" Suguru's tired body slumped beside (Y/n), in front of him Shoko who seemingly didn't care.

Their exchange of tiring him out enough when he hasn't even explored the second floor cut his and (Y/n)'s conversation. Yet his eyes stayed on her.

Always so bright and lips pulled to one side, he always wondered what was in her mind. ... and now, hearing about her ex, he wondered if the hurt he gave her was all it occupied.

Would there be any room to allow him to show her what love could be like— if he needed to wait, then how long?

"You like her?" Suguru asked cutting Kento's trance-like state as he watched (Y/n) and Shoko walk away from them.

With all the love he wished he could give her, Kento could only muster a weak, "I think it's beyond that now."

[oppaspearl]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 (𝙆𝙈𝙂)

Pairing: Idol!Mingyu x Non!Idol reader

Genre: heavy angst. 

Summary: It was not just a nightmare or even a dream, to wake him up and make him realize what he has now. 

Date of release: 23/3/23 

Words count: 11,209 words

Sequel of 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙤 (𝙆𝙈𝙂)

MINGHAO woke up at six in the morning before he went to clean his face and takes thirty minutes to do his daily meditation. 

Usually, Minghao by himself or accompanied by one of his group members will go out to grab bites for breakfast or even just call away. On his busy day, the manager nim already prepared breakfast for the rest of the group including Minghao before they start the busy day ahead. 

Today is an off day since they already spent two months going back and forth from Seoul to Japan. As it became his habit, Minghao woke up at six o'clock sharp and finished his meditation at seven. Minghao just landed his body on his couch as he checked his phone to find some messages from his parents and… Mingyu? 

He couldn’t help himself to frown as he read Mingyu's message that was just sent five minutes ago.  In the message that he sent to Minghao, Mingyu asked the younger one to grab some breakfast at the kimbap store that they often visit. It looked very normal for normal people when Mingyu asked Minghao to grab breakfast with him at seven in the morning. But it was strangely odd for Minghao to find Mingyu's message at seven in the morning, especially on their off day. 

Other than any members, Minghao knows how long Mingyu sleeps and he also knows that Mingyu rarely wakes up at seven in the morning on his off day. Besides that fact, Minghao also knows that Mingyu usually spends his morning or his off day with you. Yes, both of you sometimes invited Minghao or other members to have some breakfast with you. But usually on the first day or even the only off day that Mingyu had, he just spent it with you. 

While questions keep ringing in his mind, there is another message from Mingyu that pops out on Minghao's phone screen. 

Gyu  07.05  Before we go, can you pick me up first? I’ll send the address.

As the Minghao eyes the last question that came from Mingyu, there was a strange feeling that suddenly lingers in his mind alongside new questions. But again, Minghao decided to push away those feelings and thoughts. Minghao then told Mingyu that he would pick him up after he got ready and asked the manager to borrow his car. 

After Minghao got his manager's permission to use the car, he then went straight on the way to the address that Mingyu sent. The drive was smooth as usual even though it was the early time of the day when usually many cars filled every corner of Seoul streets. Minghao then remembers that he has not told Mingyu yet that he was already on his way to the address that the elder sent before. So, as he approaches the red light and stops by it, Minghao decides to call you. 

Instead of having the calm greeting that Minghao always gets, Minghao was greeted by the operator's voice. From the operator's voice, Minghao noticed that your number is currently inactive which made him frown even more. It was oddly strange too because Minghao knows that you always keep your phone active. Since he knows that your work acquires a lot of your mobility, Minghao notices that something happened here. 

Was Mingyu telling Minghao to pick him up at seven in the morning because he got drunk and sleep in somewhere else besides your place? 

Minghao knows that Mingyu is a social butterfly. It was no secret that the visual of Seventeen has more friends if it is compared with Minghao’s. The big connection that leads Mingyu to be invited to some party. Or maybe because of it too, your phone becomes inactive? But then Minghao knows that you have drink tolerance and he also knows that you always keep yourself sober when you have to accompany Mingyu to a party. 

Or… Mingyu didn’t tell you that he went to a party last night?

There were so many possibilities that flew through Minghao's mind and it was complicated enough for Minghao. So Minghao decided to drop that and sent Mingyu a message that he will be arriving at the address in five minutes. It was not until five minutes after he sent the message, Minghao got Mingyu’s reply telling him to get to the basement. 

The black car that Minghao drove slides smoothly to the basement level that Mingyu told him before. Aside from the soft jazz music that accompany him through the driving, Minghao also prepared some questions for Mingyu. The questions that at least can make his mind go silent for the whole day. 

However, Minghao seems cannot stop his mind to ask more questions as he realized that the address that Mingyu sent was not yours. His mind kept asking the newest question as the car that Minghao drives slid down to the basement levels that Mingyu told him earlier. Minghao knows the place that he visits now is an apartment complex. But what he doesn’t know, is whose apartment Mingyu slept in last night. 

Minghao parks the car right in one of the empty parking slots in front of the main door. He then sent Mingyu a message to tell him that he already arrives. As the message was delivered, Mingyu looks around from his seat. One thing Minghao notices is there are some luxurious car parks in the parking lot. From what he sees, Minghao believes that Mingyu must be spent his night due of hungover in one of his famous friends’ apartments.

Still, Minghao's minds keep lingering on you. 

Did you already know where was Mingyu last night? 

By that question, Minghao decides to call you again. Minghao’s phone pressed to his ears, but again it was the operator's voice that greeted him. Minghao then let out a sigh before deciding to send you messages to let you know where Mingyu was. For almost two years since the first time you introduced yourself to Seventeen and later as Mingyu’s girlfriend, Minghao never saw you turn off your phone. You always pick up whenever Minghao asks you to help Mingyu or even when he needs help with work. 

His frown goes deeper as he notices that the message he typed was not delivered, confirming that your phone was still turned off. But it gets deeper, as Minghao looks up and finds Mingyu walking out from the lift with…Lisa?

At that time, Minghao could feel his body become frozen as he makes eye contact with Lisa. Minghao knows who she is, besides the fact that she is Lalisa Manoban, and he also knows her relationship with Mingyu. Minghao knows because he was there when they were lovers, and when they decided to become friends.  

What made Minghao freeze was…

What is Mingyu doing in his ex's apartment in the early morning on his day off?

More importantly, did you know about it? Did you know that Mngyu spent his night at his ex's apartment? 

Those complicated questions fly around Minghao's mind until he didn’t realize that Mingyu already knocks on the driver seat windows. Rolling the window down and pressing unlock buttons, Minghao's eyes then look straight into Mingyu’s eyes. For someone who spent a night in someone else place without bringing any clothes, Mingyu looks so fresh. Even when they are still separated by the car doors, Minghao can smell Mingyu cologne pretty clearly in his nose. 

With a blank face on his face, Minghao then says to Mingyu, “You drive.” 

Mingyu, who was still outside, just nods at him like there was no problem. Minghao slides into the passenger seat beside his previous seat before Mingyu slides into the driver seat. His brown eyes look at Lisa who seems waiting for Mingyu's departure, then he looks at Mingyu.

There will be so many questions for Minghao to ask Mingyu.

Minghao even didn’t know where to start. 

—

A portion of tuna kimbap and a portion of fried shrimp kimbap were on the table for MInghao and Mingyu breakfast that day. 

The restaurant was oddly quiet for such an early hour. Only Mingyu and Minghao sit in the corner while enjoying their kimbap. What made it odd was usually the place was fulfilled by customers who were pretty busy enough to pack their food and decided to buy the kimbap instead.

As Mingyu typed something on his phone with a small smile on his lips, Mingyu just look straightly at the taller one with a frown on his face. The questions in Minghao's mind were getting wilder each time like they are demanding answers from the person who sits in front of him now. Minghao knows that after this, the only thing he needs is to meditate again to calm his mind. 

“Mingyu,” Minghao calls the person in front of him with a stern voice. Hearing his name being called, Mingyu looks up from his phone screen and finds Minghao’s eyes straightly looking into his eyes with his arms folded in front of his chest. “What happened?”

“Huh?” 

“How much did you drink last night until it made you pass out?” Minghao asked more clearly this time. 

Mingyu frowns and slowly shakes his head. Still confuse by Minghao's question, Minyu then replies, “I didn’t drink last night?” 

“Huh?” Now, Minghao was the one who was dumbfounded by hearing Mingyu's replies. “Then why was I picking you up from your ex’s apartment, idiot?” 

The question that just left Minghao's mouth was successful enough to make Mingyu realizes his action. Minghao could see very clearly how MIngyu’s eyes go wide as he sips his tea. But still, it doesn’t answer the questions that linger in Minghao's mind. It even worsens. 

“And why YN’s phone is inactive? Have you told her already? I want–” “I broke up with YN,” 

Minghao’s eyes go wide as Mingyu release those statement. Now, Minghao was the one that look at Mingyu with confusing expression because Minghao was truly shocked by the statement. What made Minghao confuse even more was the expression on Mingyu's face that was like telling Minghao that he already move on from you.

Still, Minghao doesn’t know what to say because he was shocked enough. 

“When?”

“Two months ago,” Mingyu sighs. 

“Why? I mean… how? You both seem happy and–” Minghao paused as he realized something. Something that Minghao didn’t expect and prayed that it was not the main reason why you broke up with Mingyu. “You didn’t cheat on her, did you?”

Mingyu leans to the table, “YN knows my feelings for Lisa.”

“What?” Minghao narrows his eyes. “Your feelings for Lisa? But you guys broke up a year ago.” 

“We never know how the fates work, Hao.” Mingyu quietly tell Minghao before solving the kimbap in his mouth. “I know it’s confusing, but I’m glad YN knows about it.”

That made Minghao almost throw his glass at Minyu. “Are you on drugs or what, Mingyu?” 

“Hao–”

“No, it was very confusing, okay?” Minghao begins. “First, you didn’t tell me about your break up which okay I understand that you don’t want me to shoot you with so many questions about it and our tight schedule. But Mingyu, how could you fall in love again with your ex as you have had a relationship for a year?” 

Again, Mingyu sighs before replying to Minghao, “I honestly don’t know, because it just came so suddenly, maybe it is also because I spent time with her too.”

“You spent your time with your ex when you were still in a relationship with YN?” Minghao asks. 

Mingyu just nods. 

“The hell,” Minghao curses under his breath. “You realized it’s called cheating, right?” 

“I told YN about it before,” Mingho says. “I explain that Lisa was homesick and since all her member was busy with their schedule and YN was okay with it.” 

“Pabo-ya.” Minghao couldn’t help himself to yell at Mingyu. Thankfully there were no people around them otherwise some eyes would instantly glue at them after Minghao let out a yell. Even Mingyu, who sits in front of Minghao, widened his eyes due to Minghao’s reaction. “I don’t know if you are too innocent to be in a relationship or you are just so stupid, but you don’t do such a thing to the person that you love, Mingyu.” 

“But-”

Minghao holds his hand up to pause Mingyu to speak further. “Yes, she said okay with it, but did  you even think about how she feels after you said that? Here’s the thing, let’s switch the position here okay, let’s put you in her place and she is yours. What if one day she came up to you and told you that she preferred to spend more time with her ex because her ex was homesick? Don’t pull any ‘that’s normal’ thingy because that was far from normal, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu was too stunned to speak and just stared at Minghao with a blank expression. Minghao, on the other hand, knows that he already pulled some trigger on Kim Mingyu's short brain. Among all the members, Mingyu is the one that spent more time with Minghao. It was not a lie that Mingyu often asks for Minghao's perspective when he has problems. As for Minghao, the only problem that he has with Mingyu was his too-bright personality. 

Yes, it is good to be friendly.

Yes, it is good to make everyone happy. 

But, Minghao couldn’t pinpoint the reason why Mingyu will do that to you, the person that Kim Mingyu fell in love with. Without Mingyu's extravagant explanations, Minghao knows that his friend has utterly fallen in love with you. Minghao also knows the real reason why Mingyu and Lisa’s relationship didn’t work out. If Mingyu told Minghao that the main reason for your breakup was him already falling out of love, Minghao just laughs it off.

Because Minghao knows that Mingyu has fallen out of love with Lisa, not you.  

“I know I was being a little rough,” Minghao sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because I know that you truly love YN, but you also need to know that it was not your job to sacrifice your happiness to make everyone happy. I get it, you may be happy now with Lisa, but I just want to warn you that sooner or later you may realize…that your love for YN was bigger than you have today.”

Mingyu just looks down as he slowly chews the kimbap that is in his mouth. 

“If you're happy with Lisa now, I’m happy for you,” Minghao adds. “But I also cannot lie that I’m pretty disappointed in you. If you feel that your love for Lisa is growing again, then you should break your relationship with YN in the first place before it’s getting bigger, not using her to make you realize how big your love is. Because we both know here that YN will do anything for you, including letting you find your love again even without her.”

–

LISA  18.00 I’ll be home later, gyu, we are still in the middle of practice, don’t wait up, love. 

Mingyu reads the newest message on his notification list on his phone screen. He let out a sigh and put his phone beside him with the screen down to the surface of the sofa. It was almost six in the evening when Mingyu and the others just finished recording some content for Seventeen's Youtube account. After the shoot, Mingyu decided to take a break at Jihoon's studio as the older one was busy composing something for Soonyoung. 

From his seat, Mingyu could see that the sky become darker. The combination of blue, purple, and orange make the perfect view for today’s sunset. Even when Mingyu was on the thirteenth floor and there was much building in front of his eyes, Mingyu couldn’t lie that the sunset make him calm. To think again, it’s one of the reasons why Mingyu likes to enjoy the sunset. It didn’t have to be on the beach or any outdoor side to be able to enjoy the sunset. 

Now, the sunset was also something that reminds Mingyu about you. 

It has been three months after both of you broke up with him and it’s been radio silenced. Mingyu feel it was best to give you space, but it didn’t mean that he stop contacting you. Sometimes, Mingyu always spares his time to just send you a message like reminding you to eat well and rest well. You also managed to reply to his messages even if it took some hours or even a day after he sends them. 

But Minghao’s word was flying around his mind. 

“Have you contacted YN lately?” Minghao asked him when they were on their way back to the dorm. “I tried to call and text her but did not get any reply, it seems like she changes her number or something?” 

Looking back, Mingyu realizes that the last time he sent you a message was a week ago. To make sure of his thoughts, Mingyu urgently checks his phone to see the time. His shoulder falls as he finds out that it was true that the last time he sent you a message was a week ago. What makes Mingyu's shoulder falls, even more, as he realizes that you have never seen or even reply his message. It is just written that the message was sent not delivered. 

Again, Mingyu just sighs and throws his phone back beside him before he leans onto the sofa. 

Mingyu could not stop himself to wonder about your well-being. He knows that you need time to heal but this sudden silence made him wonder even more about how you doing. Maybe it’s because there is still love in Mingyu heart’s that he knows was supposed to be yours only. It was complicated if someone asked Mingyu about what he truly felt right now. On one side, Mingyu is utterly falling in love with you, like there is no day his mind didn’t think about you. But on another side, his feelings for Lisa also grow like they used to. 

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you guys, turns out you are here.” 

Seungcheol sighs as he drops himself to the empty side beside Mingyu, making the younger one shift a bit. 

“We already told you, hyung,” Jihoon says. “That’s why it’s important to check your message, you know?” 

Hearing what Jihoon says, Mingyu just snorts. Seunghceol who sits beside him just glares at him before throwing the small pillow beside him. “YAH, I READ YOUR MESSAGE, THAT'S WHY I CAME HERE.”

Soonyoung sighs before handing him a cola. “Aish, you better save up your voice, hyung.” 

“Yah, whatever.” Seunghceol gulped his cola. “Anyways–in case YOU DON’T READ THE GROUP CHAT–tomorrow we will have a meeting with the content team to discuss some projects, Suhoon said it’s better if all of us come just in case we got some insights.” 

Hearing Suhoon's name being mentioned by his leader, made Mingyu’s ears perk up. Usually, Mingyu will just roll his eyes as he heard your boss's name because it will remind him about how strict Suhoon was and how he comes very protective of you like your brother. Throwing back to the first time Mingyu asked more about you to Suhoon, Mingyu remembers very clearly when Suhoon interrogates him for hours. Not just that, Suhoon also gave him a peep talk when he knows that Mingyu dated you.

Different like it used to, Mingyu seems like he got something as Seunghceol mentioned that tomorrow's meeting will involve the team (which Mingyu also knows that it also your and Suhoon's team), Suhoon, and there is a chance that you also gonna be there. Thoughts of meeting you somehow make Mingyu feels… glad? 

“Yah, gwenchana?” Seungcheol nudges Mingyu's shoulder, making him turn his head. 

Mingyu seems to hesitate before nodding. “Yes, why?”

“Dunno,” Seunghceol. “You seem to have some thoughts.”

“Nah, just some stuff.” Mingyu smiles. “What time is the meeting tomorrow?”

Seungcheol seems to try to remember before replying, “After lunch, as I remember. Oh wait, you have a photoshoot tomorrow, right? You can just join us by video calls or something.” 

“No, it’s okay, hyung.” Mingyu shakes his head. “My shoot finished before lunch, after that I’ll straight come here.” 

As the older get an answer from Mingyu, Seunghceol just looks at him with an expression that Mingyu couldn’t tell what is it. Not all member knows about the breakup of your and Mingyu's relationship, but Seungcheol knows about it. In fact, Seungcheol was the first one that Mingyu told about. He was indeed shocked, but not too shocked since he was also the one that contact you, and yet he still is. 

Five seconds later, Seungcheol just nodded before gulping his drink. 

“Do you want to meet her?” 

Out of nowhere, Seungcheol asks Mingyu with a lower voice and makes Mingyu looks at him with a dumbfounded expression. Seunghceol just looks at him, waiting for the answer from the younger one even though he already knows the answer is– the truth. 

“Will be great if it can,” Mingyu sighs. “But I’m not hoping that much.” 

Seunghceol just smirks and focuses his gaze on the sunset. “Okay then.” 

One thing on Seungcheol's mind is, Kim Mingyu is a bad liar. 

– 

“I don’t know you are home earlier,” 

Mingyu looks up from his phone as he heard the familiar voice on his voice. His eyes open widened as he finds you sitting on his sofa with your laptop on your lap. You are here in his house, looking comfortable with wearing his shirt. A smile was drawn on your lips and Mingyu froze on his feet. 

He just couldn’t believe that you are in front of him, looking beautiful as always. 

A frown appears on your forehead as you realize that Mingyu was shocked by your appearance. Without thinking twice, you put your laptop back on the coffee table before you approach Mingyu that still standing a few meters from the sofa that you sit on. 

“Gwenchana?” You ask softly. 

“...”

Your warm hand then touches Mingyu’s forehead to check his temperature. The frown on your forehead goes deeper as you realize that your boyfriend is healthy like the last time you remember. 

“Have you eaten, love?” you ask again. 

“YN,” Mingyu softly whispers your name as his eyes bore into you. 

“Hm?”

“You are here,” 

You chuckle at the last sentence that just left Mingyu's mouth. “I am.”

“H-How?” 

Again, you look at Mingyu with confusion. “Because… you gave me the key, remember?” 

“I am, but…” 

“You haven’t answered my question, chagi.” You smirk at him. “Have you eaten? If you haven’t I’ll cook some ramen for you.” 

Without hesitation, Mingyu nods but his expression is still confusing. “I have, chagi, don’t worry.” 

“Are you sure you okay?” you ask one more time. “Is work stressing you out, loves?” 

Then without warning, your warm hands hold Mingyu’s other empty hand making the man look at it. As your finger interviewed with his, Mingyu couldn't even understand the feeling that he had at the moment. Mingyu couldn't understand why there was so much noise in his mind that mostly told him to ask your forgiveness. Mingyu couldn’t understand why he has the big intention to hug you tight and didn’t want to let you go. 

“Chagi,” you call him softly. “How about you take shower and we can just rest for the night, hm?” 

Mingyu nods his head, while his eyes are still glued on how your finger is perfect with his. 

“I already prepare your clothes, but I need you to wash up a little bit, okay?” you ask one more time before Mingyu nods and looks straight into your eyes. Difference from the previous, now you look at him with a smile on your lips. The urge for Mingyu to kiss you on the lips was big, bigger than it used to be. 

And so, Mingyu does it. 

Without any warning, Mingyu took off his hand from your hold and crawls your face with his one hand before he kisses you hard on your lips. You were shocked at first but then as his other hand now moves to your waist and pulls you closer to his body, you become relaxed and eventually return his kiss. 

The taste of Mingyu’s typical mint flavor now meets with your watermelon-flavored lip balm as the kiss grew intense and your arms wrap securely around his neck. Mingyu couldn’t remember went the last time he kissed you like this like there was no day for tomorrow. But Mingyu also couldn’t forget about how your kiss always felt warm like a home. The rhythm of how your and Mingyu’s lips as both you kiss, how soft your lips, and how your arms wrap securely around him made him never want you to let go of it. 

Out of nowhere as Mingyu drowned in the kiss, you decide to slowly pull from his lips. His eyes drop low as he looks at you who blushing hard right now. Your arms were still wrapped around Mingyu's neck, as his arms wrapped your body between his big arms. Without realizing it, Mingyu's lips mirror your soft smile as his cheek eventually blushed like yours. There are so many loves that spread around your eyes just like the stars in the night sky. 

“I didn’t know that you missed me that much,” you say as your finger plays with his hair. Your eyes still look at him with so much love, and your lips still tug a lovely smile that makes Mingyu melts in every second that has already been spent as both of you standing there. As your finger plays with his hair, Mingyu could feel his body eventually become relaxed. The warmness that radiates from your body heat and Mingyu’s made the man don’t want to do anything besides melts in your arms, in your love. 

It’s been too long, way too long. 

Mingyu nods and softly pushes his forehead to yours, “I miss you, so much, chagi.”

“You do?” He nods again and you give him a peck on his lips. “Well, I miss you too so much, love.” 

“Love,” Mingyu calls you softly. “I love you,” 

You smile at his words before nodding at him. “I know, I love you too,” 

“So much?” 

“So much, baby.” 

And Mingyu kiss you again, which made your smile wider before you reply to his kiss. Deep down, Mingyu feels extremely happy but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he feel so happy and wanted to kiss you over and over again. The urge for him to show his love to you was big. But among the urges that have been dominating Mingyu’s mind, there is one fear that is very contrasting if compared with other thoughts. 

The fear of losing you. 

“As much I love to cuddle with you,” you broke the kiss and smile playfully. “How about you change your clothes into something comfortable and after that, we can cuddle and rest, hm?” 

Mingyu nods, making you smile, and led him to the bedroom. As both of you walked to the main bedroom, Mingyu couldn’t help to glue his eyes to his hand that hold yours. He couldn’t help to let out a smile as his bigger hand tighten its hold on your smaller one. The view not only makes him smile, but somehow it brings butterflies to Mingyu's stomach. He feels like he was back to the age when he has a crush on one of his classmates. The tickles and the warmness that he felt were too real and yet Mingyu doesn’t want this to go, he doesn’t want you to leave. 

And so, as both of you enter the bedroom, you let out Mingyu’s hand which made him frown at your action. Mingyu couldn’t help it but he feel empty as you let off his hand from your grip. Mingyu eyes then trail to you, who takes the clothes that have been neatly folded and placed above the bed. 

“Here,” you hand Mingyu his clothes with a wider smile on your lips. “Give me your bag and your phone, you go change, okay?” 

Without hesitation, Mingyu then nods and does what you just said. Bringing his clothes, Mingyu walks to his bathroom to change and wash up a little bit. As Mingyu was in the bathroom, changing and washing up a little bit, he can hear the muffled voice of your walking step into the bedroom. Smirking as Mingyu starts to brush his teeth, he knows that you must be turning off some lights and getting ready to sleep. 

To be truth, Mingyu doesn’t know why he suddenly acts clingy to you. Yes, if Mingyu could admit, he is the clingy type of boyfriend but today is different. It feels like he didn’t see you for a very long time which results in him to be wanting nothing more than to hold you—-to love you. His schedule today was not too packed, he just went to the office to shoot the video reaction for the leader unit music video. 

Five minutes later, as Mingyu just finished his skincare routine, he steps out of the bathroom looking fresh and ready to cuddle with you. His brown eyes then look at your figure that has been laying on your side of the bed. Your hair was sprawled on the pillow, as you typed something on your phone. The warm feeling was back to Mingyu’s thought as you look up from your phone and tapped the space beside you. 

Mingyu arms make their way to wrap around your body as he lies on the bed. The smell of your perfume was very strong in Mingyu’s nose as he snuggle to your neck. His arms which already wrap to your waist, hold you tight as your arms wrap around his wide shoulder. 

Again, it feels like a home for Mingyu.  

“Are you okay, love?” you ask him softly. “I didn’t mind having clingy you, but you act weird since you step into the apartment earlier. Is everything okay?” 

Mingyu was silent for a while, which make you pull yourself a little bit from him to see his face. His gaze was lowering and there is no sunshine like they used to and you know there is something on his mind. You also know that it disturbs him. 

 “You know you can tell me anything you got, love.” you brush away some hair on his forehead. 

“Will you stay with me forever, love?” Mingyu suddenly shoot you the question that you never expect. “Will you stay with me even after I hurt you?” 

“You know, I will, chagi.” you cup his face with your hand, making Mingyu look at you with sorrowful eyes. “I will always stay with you, no matter what happened.”

“Even when I hurt you?”

“Something that hurt can be healed, love.” you smile a little bit. “It’s okay, I can take it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you are worth it for every pain, Kim Mingyu.”

And as the sentence leave your mouth, Mingyu widened his eyes, and the tears start flooding his eyes. The sentences that just left your mouth were like a lighter that succeed to trigger something in Mingyu’s mind. Mingyu doesn’t know what it was, but his mind is screaming and telling him to hold you tight, apologize for hurting you, and love you like he has to.  

“Love?” you shook his shoulder softly. You straighten your position and hold his hand tighter. “Tell me–”

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says between his tears, a second after he hugs you tight. “Gosh, I’m sorry, YN, I’m sorry.” 

You slowly return his hug, now hand softly patting his toned back as he cries on your shoulder blades. You can feel the wetness of his tears on your hair and how his body shook on your arms. Mingyu keeps apologizing as his hold on you goes tighter every second. You have never seen him like this before. Yes, you saw Mingyu cry but he never cries so hard as this. Like he did something wrong to you. 

So, you let him cry on your shoulder and slowly you also cry. Your hands still softly patting his back, trying to calm him down. The soft pad on his back was something that you always did whenever Mingyu told you about his issues. It was the act that you both know can make him calm and eventually will talk about his issues with you.

However, tonight is different and you know it. 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Mingyu says between his sobbing. “I’m sorry for every pain that I caused you. I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry for letting myself be that cruel to you.” 

“It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” you mutter. “I’m okay, you are okay.” 

“It’s my fault, YN,” Mingyu's voice rose, without him realizing it. “I don’t deserve you, gosh, I hurt you.”

“Hey, hey.” you softly push him so you can hold his face. In front of you, Mingyu was a mess with ruffling hair, and swollen and red eyes, and he avoids to look you in the eyes. “I’m okay, baby, I’m okay and I’m here with you, okay?” 

“Don’t leave,” Mingyu mutters before looking up into your eyes. “Stay here with me okay? Punish me, yell at me, or do whatever you want, just don’t ever leave me, please?” 

“I will always love you and stay for you, Mingyu.” you smile and rub his cheek lovingly with his thumb. Tears flow freely from your eyes as you look at Mingyu who has the same condition as you. “You are okay, it’s not your fault, okay? I’m here.” 

“Stay?” Mingyu softly asks. 

“I’ll stay for you, love.” you smile softly. “I’ll be here whenever you ask me and you needed me.” 

Mingyu took a deep breath before letting it go and kissing you on the lips. As he kisses you, you can feel the saltiness that came from both of your tears. But you didn’t mind a bit about it, you just focus on his kisses. You broke the kiss and erase the tears from his eyes slowly with your thumb. 

“Let’s sleep, shall we?” you ask him softly, as soon you realized that Mingyu is calm enough. You rub his shoulder before Mingyu nods at you and lays back on his side with him facing you.  

Now, both of you sleeping facing each other and holding each other hands. Mingyu looks at you with his brown eyes, as you focus your gaze on your hand that comfortably holds his. Mingyu still couldn’t believe that you are in front of him, in his bed. What he does believe is that sleeping withholding you is always the best sleep that Mingyu had in his life. 

“YN,” Mingyu softly calls your name, making you look up from your gaze. “Will you  still be here when I woke up?”

You smile at him and pull him into your arms, so he can snuggle into you like the previous time. Mingyu closes his eyes as he can feel your arms wrapping around his shoulder. He snuggles his face more into your neck, breathing your scent, and enjoying your warmth. 

“Sleep, love,” you whisper. “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” Mingyu sighs comfortably. “So much, love.” 

“I know.” 

With that, Mingyu drowned in his sleep. His mind was back in calm mode as he takes your warmness. 

But without Mingyu realizing it, you didn’t answer his last question. 

Because all of this only happens in Mingyu’s dream.  

—

Mingyu knows attending this meeting was a good idea. 

This morning, he woke up to the sound of his alarm and the cold side of the bed. Strangely, the cold side of the bed was also too neat like it had never been slept on before. There was no trace of you, as Mingyu also could not find your laptop on his desk as he remembered very well last night. Not stopping from there, Mingyu also realized that the shirt that he used was different from the last night. 

Well, Mingyu was hoping to see you making him breakfast since you know that he has an early schedule. The expectation was you cooking breakfast wearing his shirt in his kitchen. You will be greeting him with good morning and telling him to wash up as you prepare his breakfast. 

But oh, well, reality hits Mingyu in every inch of his heart. 

Because as soon as Mingyu steps out of his bedroom, he is greeted by a dark kitchen and a dim living room. There was no you. The reality was far away from the expectation that Mingyu had. Truthfully, Mingyu feels a little bit disappointed. Were you leaving him after you promised to stay with him? 

Were you lying to him? 

So that's why Mingyu sent you a message asking where you were during the preparation for his photoshoot. Not a message but five messages. He feels more saddened and disappointed as he finds out that there were no replies from you. It made him check his phone several times after the photoshoot was done until he went to the Hybe building. 

Then Mingyu realized something. 

The meeting. 

It was obvious that you’ll be there since you were the right hand of Suhoon. Maybe it is also because of the meeting that made you go home in the early morning. Mingyu knows how detail-oriented you were, and how you want everything to be efficient. Again, it was also strange because it was still six in the morning when Mingyu woke up and it was too early for you to leave. 

As the manager's Nim car arrived at the basement of the Hybe building, Mingyu didn’t want to spend any second and just straight away left the car, bringing his belongings. Anyone seeing him walking could tell he was in a hurry since he walks very fast. Besides the fact that he will be late, Mingyu is also chasing the chance to talk with you before the meeting. He knows that he can talk later once the meeting ends, but he just literally needs to make sure that you’ll be there. 

Once Mingyu arrived in front of the meeting room, he took very long and deep breaths to calm himself. Not because he just ran, but the fact that he feels nervous. Mingyu didn’t know why he felt nervous but he could feel his heart beating faster than it used to. So when Mingyu realizes he is in good condition, he opens the glass door and pairs of eyes immediately look at him. 

Among the eyes that look at him, Mingyu just focused on Suhoon. 

The older one looks at him with a different gaze than usual. 

Not cold nor warm but something like…pity? 

Suhoon quickly turns his head as one of his team approaches him to discuss something, making Mingyu sigh softly before bowing. He could see most of his memory was there, but then his eyes scans the room to look for you. Instead of finding you, Mingyu just found some unfamiliar faces. Were you in the restroom? But Mingyu knows that you rarely went to the restroom five minutes before the meeting starts. 

“Yeah, Mingyu-ah, come sit here.” 

Mingyu turns his head to Minghao who patted the empty chair beside him and Seungcheol. Without wasting more time, Mingyu quickly sits in the chair that Minghao patted. Maybe I should call her now, Mingyu thought while taking his phone from his bag.

“Did you just have a photoshoot?” Minghao asks him, turning fully and facing him. 

“Ah, yes.” Mingyu nods, typing something for you. “The meeting has not started yet, right?” 

“Seunghceol hyung just came right before you, so probably in a few,”  Minghao explains. After answering Mingyu’s question, Minghao then looks at his surroundings before leaning toward Mingyu. “Where is YN?” 

Mingyu shakes his head slowly, “I don’t know.” 

“Have you contacted her yet?” Minghao asks, earning a nod from Mingyu. “Did she reply to you?” 

Mingyu sighs and shakes his head for the second time, “I tried, but—” 

“Okay, guys, since the manager-nim is here and all of you are already here, we can start the meeting now.” Suhoon cuts Mingyu’s words, making him and Minghao turn their heads to Suhoon who is already standing in the middle of the room. Minghao gives Minyu a sign that their last conversation will continue after the meeting and starts to lean back in his chair. Besides that, Mingyu who sits beside Minghao just put down his phone as his mind is still wondering about where’ve you been. 

His mind even becomes wilder as there is a girl who stands beside Suhoon. Not only on Mingyu’s forehead, but the frown also appeared on some members as they watched the girl stand at your place. Suhoon, who noticed that most of the member's eyes were looking at the substitute, sighs softly and smiles then bows to greet the member alongside the manager. 

“Well, before we start the meeting, I would like to say thank you for your attendance today,” Suhoon begins. “I know that it’s a little bit sudden, however, we need to have this meeting to discuss the Seventeen digital content plan since there will be an upcoming world tour ahead. Unfortunately, I have to open this meeting by also announcing the news that I know is also very sudden to inform you.”

By hearing Suhoon's announcement, the members straightened their seats like they were preparing for the worst to come. 

“Starting this day, Ms. YN YLN will no longer be a content creative officer due to her departure.” 

In an instant, Mingyu and the rest of the members, widening their eyes after hearing that sentence, left Suhoon's mouth. But not everyone was widening their eyes and was shocked by the news, Seungcheol who sits behind is only sighing and lowers his head. 

“Ms. YN YLN has received a scholarship and also an offer from our headquarters in New York to lead our digital communication team.” Suhoon took a deep breath, before continuing. Mingyu could see how lost Seunghoon was by his eyes and also by his action. “Personally, YN did say that she’s sorry for not telling you all in the first place, but due to the short time that her school and our headquarters gave to her, she didn’t make it. So, she left it to me to tell you guys her forgiveness and she also wishes all the best for you, for all of you.” 

The atmosphere of the room then changes to very tense now. Minghao glanced at the person on his left because he knew that the person next to him was utterly shaken by the news. From his seat, Minghao could see how Mingyu’s finger shakes so hard and how his broad shoulder falls. Without asking for permission, Minghao slowly holds Mingyu's hands to calm him down. But truthfully, even with Minghao’s action, Mingyu cannot calm himself. 

How can he become so calm when he just finds out that you are not in here anymore? 

How can Mingyu be calm as he just finds out that you already left without saying goodbye to him? Without giving him one more chance to ask for your forgiveness for the nth time? 

“Moving forward, Ms. YN YLN will be replaced by Miss Choi Haram, she is your creative content officer now that will help you during your shoots and of course will be my right-handed.” Suhoon smiles weakly at the girl standing beside him. 

All the members' attention went to the girl, Choi Haram, as she introduced herself. But Mingyu just stared blankly at his phone. He should have known that you were leaving, but one particular question appears in his mind. 

Why?

Why did you just leave without telling him? 

Mingyu knows that he hurts you, he knows that he hurts you so badly. Were you deciding to take the offer just because you want to heal from him? Thousands of questions cannot stop leaving Mingyu’s mind but they cannot cover the pain. The pain slowly crawled to Mingyu’s heart as his mind tried to accept that you were gone.  

Between the chaos, at that moment, Mingyu realizes two things. 

First, Mingyu realized that you never answered him when he asked if you would be there when he woke up.  

Second, Mingyu realized that it was too late for him. 

—

“Mr. Lee, pardon me, but Kim Mingyu would like to speak with you in private.” 

Suhoon looks up from his screen as Haram stands in front of him. It was roughly six in the evening when Suhoon just finished his meeting and was currently in the cafeteria when Haram approached him. Without asking Haram, why Kim Mingyu wanted to talk in private with him, Suhoon knows the questions that he will face. 

It’s less or more about you. 

Since it has been your request to him, Suhoon just nods to Haram before bidding goodbye to his colleague. As Suhoon and Haram just walk five steps from the cafeteria, he already saw Mingyu standing near the cafe and looking straight into Suhoon's eyes. 

“Ms. Haram, would you help me to pick a black box on my passenger seat?” Suhoon kindly requests Haram and hands her his key car. 

Haram nods and takes the key before walking out and leaving Suhoon alone. 

“Do you have a place for us–”

“Follow me,” Suhoon nods as Mingyu leads him towards a place so they can walk privately.  From Mingyu’s cold tone, Suhoon could tell that Mingyu was nothing but confused, angry, and shocked. 

Turns out, Mingyu led Suhoon to a surprisingly quiet garden. The spring breeze greets Suhoon as both of them step out. After Mingyu closed the door, he then lead Suhoon to one of the benches that had been in the corner of the garden. Suhoon let Mingyu sit first then him before eventually, Suhoon sits next to him. As Suhoon sit beside him, he could feel how tense Mingyu was and Suhoon could not blame him for it.  

“Mingyu–”

“When?” Mingyu asks Suhoon without any greetings or even eye contact. Mingyu just looks straight at the view in front of him.

Suhoon just sighs before lowering his head before he answers, “She left two weeks ago.” 

Truth be told, Suhoon's answers turn out not to satisfy Mingyu. The younger one just nods even though his eyes start to tear up. In his silence, Mingyu silently does some calculations about your departure. From the information that Suhoon told and with his calculation, it could be concluded that you were still in Korea the last time you replied to his message. If it is also true, Mingyu predicted that there is a chance you replied to his message as you were boarding at the airport. 

“If you are wondering why she has not told you,” Suhoon begins. “It’s because she didn’t want to interrupt you with this sudden news. I tried to talk with her to just contact you one last time and she said she did but you weren’t replying to her.”  

It hit Mingyu the most as he realized that he didn’t reply to your message when he had the last shot. He lowers his head and tries to blink up some tears from his eyes as Suhoon opens his mouth. 

“I know that you love her so much like she loves you, Mingyu.” Suhoon pauses before continuing. “After your break up, things get a little bit different. As long as I know YN all this year, that was the only time I saw her pretending hard to be happy–to be okay. I don’t know if she thinks that I’m one of the people that she can fool about, but I know she tries hard to be okay in front of me.  She even told me not to blame you for all this, but every time I saw her eyes… I know she is more than just hurt.” 

“Suhoon hyung–”

“Do you love Lisa, Mingyu-ah?” Suhoon asks Mingyu, making him turn his head to look at the older one. Same as yours, Suhoon could see the redness and the tears that just left Mingyu's eyes. “Do you love her so much that it makes you sacrifice your happiness and your love?” 

“Hyung…” 

“If you love Lisa, then I wish you a lot of happiness, Mingyu.” Suhoon pats Mingyu's shoulder. He can feel the tears leave his eyes. “But do you know what I thought? I think you are falling in love with the idea of always being there for her, not utterly falling in love like what you feel about my dongsaeng. You know, you and YN are the same–both of you were too falling in love until you sacrifice your happiness, just to make the person that you love happy.” 

“...”

Suhoon sighs. “I’m sorry for not telling you about her departure, Mingyu. With her gone, I just had a simple favor to ask you, as someone who witnessed her pain that was caused by you, I beg you to let her go, Mingyu.” 

“What?” Mingyu looks at Suhoon with wide eyes. 

“Let her go, Kim Mingyu, let YN heal from your pain and let her chase her happiness,” Suhoon tells him, looking straight into Mingyu's teary eyes. “YN let you go because she wants you to be happy and because she loves you. If you love YN, then love Lisa with all your heart and let YN become something that lives in your memory.” 

It feels like Mingyu was just struck by a thunderstorm right into his heart. His hand now shakes harder than before, the tears could not stop flowing from his eyes. Truth be told, what Suhoon said was right. Without Mingyu's realization, you are doing what he does to Lisa, it was fair game, to be honest. 

“You know what YN tells me on the day of her departure?” Suhoon smiles weakly as he plays the memory back in his mind. “She said, " If we are meant to be together, there will be thousands of ways that make us back to each other. But if not, then we just really need to let go or else we get hurt more. All you guys need right now is space, for you and her. If both of you are ready, the universe will know and let you be each other happy like in the old time. But now, you need to understand and have peace with yourself, Mingyu.”

“What if one day she realizes that she is out of love for me?” Mingyu asks, still looking at the floor. 

“She will not, I believe that,” Suhoon pats his shoulder softly. “She loves you that much, Mingyu, I don’t know if you are too blind but I can see it pretty well.”

Mingyu slowly nods his head before looking up and asking, “What should I do now, hyung?” 

“Ask yourself,” Suhoon replies. “Ask yourself the question that I just asked you earlier, Mingyu, and make peace with yourself. That’s at least the best thing you can do right now.” 

“Will I ever be able to meet her?” Mingyu asks softly. “Will I get the chance to love her and to be loved by her like the old times, hyung?” 

Suhoon sighs and nods his head. “You will, Mingyu.”

“I dreamt about her last night, you know?” Mingyu smiles as he recalls the dream. The dream that was too good to be true. “We do our routine after a long day, cuddle up and you know what's so funny about it? At the end of the dream, I asked her if she would be there when I woke up but she never answered. Until the meeting, I thought it was real… I thought she'd decided to back with me, but… turns out it was just a dream.” 

“...” 

“I didn’t realize that I missed having her in my life that much,” Mingyu softly sobs. “I missed her and I lost the chance to fight her back, hyung.” 

Suhoon nods and rubs Mingyu's shoulder. He nods his head, looking at Mingyu who cried in silence. Suhoon knows that he may be a little hard on Mingyu at first time, but he also knows how big Mingyulove is to you. It was that big until it made Mingyu confused by his own feelings. 

“If you have contact with her,” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “Please say my forgiveness to her, please tell her that I love her.” 

“I will and she knows about it,” Suhoon nods. “She forgave you already, Mingyu. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself, okay?” 

“I didn’t know where I should begin, hyung.” Mingyu chuckled sadly. “How can I forgive myself when I know that I was the one that hurt the person that I loved the most?”

“You will, Mingyu,” Suhoon says. “You will know how to.” 

Mingyu just nods at him and sobs on his hands. Suhoon's heart breaks a little as he can see how broken Mingyu was. He could not help to imagine that it was you, not Mingyu. It must be harder than this for you and Suhoon cursed himself out for not being there when you broke down.  Deep down, Suhoon is also grateful to be on Mingyu's side when he was in the same phase as you were. 

So, Suhoon stands up from his seat and Mingyu just looks at him still with his swollen eyes.”Both of you will be fine, but now space is the only thing that you need. When the time comes, I know that you are better than today.” 

The only response that Mingyu could give was just sighs and nods. Suhoon once more pats his shoulder before he spots Haram already looking for him bringing a black box. The older man raises his hands for Haram, and as she notices it she straightly walks to him. Suhoon smiles at Haram after saying thank you and then tells her to wait in the lobby while he is gonna say some things to Mingyu. 

As Haram walks and leaves the two men alone, Suhoon couldn’t help to stare at the box that he holds. Looking at the box makes Suhoon remembers again how everything was doing so fast, how your departure also brought some changes into his life. Among all the things, what made Suhoon's heartache the most was when you asked him to give the box to Mingyu under one condition. Suhoon remembered very well that the one condition that you mean is that Suhoon must give it to Mingyu when YN has already gone and nearing his birthday. 

Today, however, was the five days before Mingyu’s birthday and Suhoon knew that it was the perfect time to give the box to Mingyu. 

Mingyu, who seems to notice Suhoon's silence, looks up and slowly rises from his seat as his gaze focuses on the box. A small and sad smile was drawn on Suhoon’s lips as he handed the box to Mingyu. 

“She wants me to give it to you,” Suhoon says. “It was supposed to be your birthday gift, but since she can’t be in here, she asked me to give it to you.” 

With shaking hands, Mingyu accepts the box and some tears start to fall the boxes. He could feel his heart shatter as he read your handwriting that wrote his name. It was a simple thing for him that was reflecting you and it made him feel like punch by so many things at the same time.

“Open it when you are ready, Mingyu,” Suhoon notes. “There are some things that she left for you.” 

Mingyu slowly nods his head, but his eyes are still glued to the box in his grip. “Thank you, hyung.” 

“I’m just doing what she told me to do, Mingyu.” Suhoon smiles. “But if you need anything, just hit me up, okay?” 

Can I ask you to turn back the time? If I ask you to bring her to me now, can you do it now?

The questions stay on Mingyu’s tongue tip as he nods. Mingyu takes a deep breath before looking up and meeting Suhoon's worried gaze. In front of him, Suhoon was looking at him like he was vulnerable and to be honest, Mingyu hates it. Mingyu hates it when someone looks at him with pity or even sadness. 

“I’ll be fine, hyung,” Mingyu assures Suhoon. “I’ll tell you if I needed something, alright?” 

Suhoon looks at him briefly before nodding and sighing. “Okay, I’ll go now, yeah? Tell me anything.” 

“Yes, hyung.” 

“And Mingyu?”

Mingyu looks at Suhoon, waiting for Suhoon to continue his words. 

“She misses you too,” Suhoon sadly smiles at Mingyu. “A lot.” 

—

Lisa was fast asleep beside him when Mingyu’s eyes bored into the ceiling of his bedroom. 

His eyes then flicker to the watch on his desk that already shows two in the morning. It was one of the nights when Mingyu couldn’t sleep and his eyes won't corporate with him. But the difference from the other night, was tonight there is one certain thing on Mingyu’s mind that made him couldn't sleep. 

You. 

You are the one that keeps him stay awake that night. 

Today has been a lot for Mingyu. Waking up with a big hope of you will be beside him when he wakes up, knowing that you are leaving him, and… receiving the box. It was too much for Mingyu and yet it feels like it was a slap for him to wake up from a long slumber. A slap that made him realize that you are playing a big role in his life, even bigger than he ever imagine. 

Mingyu couldn’t lie that he feels his heart breaking a little bit, his anger flames inside of him, and the strange feeling of loneliness as he listens to Suhoon 's announcement about your departure. He could not stop wondering if all of this didn’t happen at all if he wasn’t breaking your heart into pieces. 

You probably will be the one that laying next to him tonight, wrapping tightly in his arms. 

That thought makes Mingyu’s heartbreak even more as the loneliness feels makes its return. His head turns to Lisa as he looks at her feature. She was beautiful, but somehow she wasn’t you. Mingyu knows that any man will be dying to be in his place, but Mingyu is willing to die to be the man who wraps his arms around you as you sleep in his arms tonight. When every man was looking for a way to be in Mingyu’s place, but now Mingyu only wants one thing. He just want to be the man that can make you happy, the man that didn’t want to hurt you like he did. 

But if there is any man that is already in his position, Mingyu couldn’t say anything then he’s happy for you. 

At least, you are happy and healed from the pain that he caused. 

Staring at Lisa, makes Mingyu realizes one thing. 

The box. 

He needs to open the box for the last time. Even when his heart was screaming for mercy and begging him to not do that. Because true of the truth is that he wasn’t ready at all, Mingyu wasn’t ready to see what you left for him. 

Rising from his bed slowly, Mingyu then walked out of his bed and went to his study room where he left the box. Mingyu can feel his heart beating fast as he walks to the study room. Sweat was flowing on his hands. His heart keeps screaming for him to stop and back to bed as his mind tells him to go. 

The knob of Mingyu’s study room slowly being push and make the door open before he slides in and closed it again. His mind, his eyes, and his feet now focusing on the box on the desk. Slowly, Mingyu walks towards it and his eyes are still glued to the box as he sits on the chair. Reflectly, his hands slowly touch the box like it was something fragile. 

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu then unwraps the white ribbon from the box before opening the lid slowly. His eyes couldn’t stop the tear as the lid was open and he finds two polaroid pictures of both of you. Without thinking twice, Mingyu then picks it up. It was the photo that his sister took as both of you went to visit his parents' house. In the first picture, both of you and Mingyu were smiling happily at the camera. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands were on his chest.

It was a great photo, but the other photo punched Mingyu even more. 

In the second photo, you and Mingyu were laughing at each other. There was a difference between the first one, the second one taken Wonwoo's birthday dinner. One thing that Mingyu noticed and what it hit the most was the way you smile widely at the camera. It hit Mingyu the most because you look genuinely look happy and it’s been a long time since Mingyu looked it in your face. 

He missed it. 

He misses you. 

So much.

Mingyu then put the polaroid carefully on the other side of the table before moving to the other things inside the box. His shaky hands then open the white tuile that protects whatever is inside of it. At that moment, Mingyu can feel that he lost his breath as he realized what the tuile protected. His jaw drops as he slowly lifts the jacket. It was the jacket that Mingyu wants and always rambles to you about how rare is that. 

The simple black jacket. 

But as Mingyu lift the jacket, there was a thing that distracted him which is the envelope. Without having to think again, Mingyu open the envelope and find two papers folded neatly inside it. Taking another deep breath, Mingyu then opens the first and small one. 

Happiest 27th birthday, my lovely dork and yet hottest boyfriend! Please mind my weird act for the past few days because I know that you will love this. Happiest birthday my love, there’s nothing that I wished for you than healthiness, happiness, success, the best thing, and everything you wanted (LIKE THIS JACKET KKKK). I know that you’ve been eyeing and TALKING about this jacket, so I thought why not give you one? I hope you like my gift, and I want you to have your special day with your new jacket. I love you, Kim Mingyu. Happy getting older by one year, yeah? Don’t worry I’ll be with you every time you get older, love. - YN. 

Now Mingyu’s cheek was wet because of his tears as he read the letter. By just reading it, Mingyu knows that you already planned this way ago before you left, before he broke your heart. Not stopping from there, Mingyu wipes his tears before moving on to the second one. 

Dearest, Kim Mingyu. 

If you reading this, it means that… I’m already gone to New York. Surprise, baby, I got the scholarship! I am so shocked when I received the news, and the only thing on my head was you. I can imagine how shocked you were as we both read the mail on our couch and then cry in each other arms after this.  But if you reading this too, that means we are also in a different way.  But that also means you are happy, right? As long you are happy, then it is also okay for me, love.  As I wrote this letter, you were spamming me with your message and your calls asking me where was I. I’m sorry for not picking up your call or answering your message, love. I guess it’s just a little bit hard for me now to face you. But please, don’t be hard on yourself because I am already a big grown girl, okay?  I guess what I really can say right now is that thank you and I love you. Thank you for being with me at the lowest, thank you for bringing out the best of me, thank you for being you, and thank you for loving me. I never thought that we can date this long, but as the time spent, I realize I found myself on you. You know at the beginning of this relationship, I was hesitant about you. There were a million reasons but the biggest was I was afraid to fall in love with you.   I was afraid that I cannot fit in with you and that you will leave me eventually. I think most of the time, in the beginning, my insecurities played a big role that made me hold myself from you. But eventually, as we spent more time together, I start to be brave to fight myself and my insecurities. Loving you makes me realize that turns out I could love someone deeply without being someone new and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful to have you by my side. I’m grateful to be able to call you mine without feeling insecure about myself.  I’m more than grateful to have the chance to love and be loved by you, Kim Mingyu. That’s why I let you go. Because I want you to feel gratitude as I did when I’m with you. It’s sad, but it’s more saddening if you don’t get the happiness that you look for. Promise me some things, please? Promise me after you read this letter, you’ll forget about me and us. Promise me that you will love Lisa and always makes her happy. Promise me that you will hug her and kiss her after you read this letter, okay? I’m glad you finally got your happiness, baby.  I may be away from you, a thousand kilometers far away from you. But I’ll be alright, as long you are alright and happy, arraseo? So please, be happy and love her as you should, Mingyu. Please live the life that you earn, and like what you deserved because I’ll be okay without you.  Even a thousand miles away from you, please know that I’ll love you forever, Kim Mingyu. With much loves, YN YLN

As the letter releases from his grip, his other hand clutches the polaroid photo of you to his chest, and tears blur his sight, Mingyu realizes one thing. 

He has lost the biggest star of happiness in his life. 

You. 

Finally chapter 2 release! Longer than the first chapter, hehehe... constructive criticism or insight will be good, folks! Love you all <3 - oppaspearl.

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER SEVEN

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

WEDNESDAY APRIL 24TH 2024  MEXICO, 0000 HOURS

The pain in your chest is getting worse.

It's hard to sleep that night for many reasons.  One: with all the rain of the other night it's hard to find any wood dry enough for a fire.  Mexico has relatively tame weather compared to what you're used to, but Springtime is a whole different beast, inconsistent and unpredictable.  Nearly ninety degrees in the daytime and then dropping down to the fifties at night, you find yourself sweating all day just to be freezing and damp when the sun sets.  The thin blanket you pull out of the back of a wrecked truck doesn't help much and neither does the fact that you've developed a fever.

Two: you're definitely sure you have at least one broken rib.  The first day after the battle you had the adrenaline to numb the pain, but now that it's faded, it's easier to notice how it takes a great deal of effort just to breathe without your lungs spasming painfully.  Each breath aches, rattling in your chest.  You can't put pressure on your side without seeing stars and the bruises are damn near black across the expanse of your ribs.  Still, you won't rest more than a few hours at a time—knowing that the second you do, you might not be able to get up again.

And that brings you to the last thing; the radio is still dead silent.

You're staring at the ceiling, leaning back against the truck's wall as you listen to it; the static.  The charge has died twice now and both times you've revived it with an emergency battery.  Once that runs out, you plan to charge it with the SUV.  The longer you listen to the buzz of an empty signal paired with the steady sound of Ghost's breathing beside you, the longer you get to thinking about what might happen if nobody comes to find you.  

You think about the first time you put your survival training to use; left for dead in some safe house during your tour in Yemen, left by your squadron in a rushed retreat.  Back then, the pain in your side had been a nasty knife wound to your ribs, but now it was shattered bone and bleeding organs.  The longer you listen to the static the easier it is to recall the coldness of concrete on your skin, the burn of sand-caked sweat and blood in your eyes.  The sputtering static of your comms picking up no signal and the growing panic of being forgotten.  The blood.  The death.  The memory once so far away now felt tangible again; real.

It's funny.  The longer time went on the easier it was to forget about moments where you weren't so strong, but it was also easier to get lost in them whenever they unearthed themselves at the most inconvenient of times.  

Then a warm hand on your shoulder shatters the illusion—and you panic.

Within moments, you're up again.  You grab the unknown enemy by the front of his shirt and force him back against the floor with an audible thunk—causing weapons and gear to swing and the truck’s suspension to bounce.  When the red clears from your vision, your eyes are locked with two tired, brown irises blown wide with surprise as your grip tightens on his wrists against the floor.

Shocked to your core, your body goes rigid.

You lost a lot of your usual muscle mass during your first few weeks in Camp Viking; after Yemen and everything else that happened.  Stress, too much sleep or not enough, and a complete lack of appetite were a fatal combo to all the progress you made after signing your life away—so when Ghost met you, you were the weakest you've been since before joining the military.

Now: your shoulders are broader, arms and legs thicker and crisscrossed with ragged scars.  Skin glistens with the sweat of a fever as you hold him, still bigger than you, pinned to the floor.  

The breath knocked from his lungs; he's panting.  You're close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face, to see how your own labored breathing stirs the hair laying on his forehead.  Close enough to realize you've only ever seen him out of breath like this one other time—

Christmas Day.

His eyes flash with something familiar and you know he remembers it, too.

You shoot off of him in an instant.  Mind reeling, you turn to leave.  Run.  Do something to quell the fire in your veins and the burn of memories in your delirious mind.

"Angel, wait—"

The nickname falls on deaf ears.  Before he can gather his bearings enough to scramble upright, you've grabbed the radio and disappeared into the night with a burning face and a newfound heat in your bones.

WEDNESDAY APRIL 26TH 2024  MEXICO, 0300 HOURS

"Echo 0-2 to Actual."  

Your voice sounds rough with insomnia whenever you speak into the radio for the hundredth time.

It's been two nights since you've been in the van with Ghost, two nights since you've talked.  You're avoiding him—it's just as clear to you as it is to him—and embarrassment ravages your mind as you continue to keep yourself upright, keep yourself moving.  Now, the stretch of bodies was four lines deep instead of two.  Now, sitting on top of the SUV with ruined boots dangling over the edge and a raggedy blanket on your shoulders; it officially burned like hell to breathe.

Above you, the stars are the brightest you've seen since Camp Viking.  The night is just as quiet.

You close your eyes for a long time, dread settling in your stomach at the thought of staying here much longer; of what might happen if you're not found.  You think about how long the walk from here to the next civilization might be—if, by some miracle, they don't shoot you on sight.

Bandaged, anxious hands hold the radio tight in your lap before pressing the button and bringing it to your face once more.

"Again, this is Echo 0-2 attempting to reach Actual.  I've got a wounded Lieutenant with me…is anyone there?"

Static.

You try again, "Echo 0-2 to Actual.  Watcher.  Anyone."

Again, nothing.  You sigh, batting the side of the small machine against the heel of your hand.  Crickets chirp somewhere far off in the distance as you curse and eventually give up.  Tired eyes fall over the pitch-black landscape before you, getting lost in the quiet.  Your skin prickles against the cold air as your eyes sink shut. Shoulders slump for what feels like the first time in weeks as exhaustion, a gentle but swift current, sweeps you under.

"Nice night."

You jump and whip around, clutching the fabric of the front of your uniform.  

"Fuck," you breathe out.  "Just you."

He stands with what appears to be two of the American MREs you found in hand, his uniform notably cleaner now—having shed his dark, dirt-matted jacket for a dark compression shirt that stretches over thick muscles.  He looks…better.  Able to stand upright, at the very least.  There's more color to his face but that could very well just be the cold.  The fresh bandages you helped him put on the last time you talked don't show any signs of being bled through and he definitely doesn't have a hard time sneaking up on you—a good sign.

"Well…don't sound too excited."

You only huff at his remark, turning back around to look at the radio in your lap as your face burns with embarrassment.  Your hands are still shaking as you take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, and you wait for him to finally mention it—acknowledge it.  Your hands on his wrists.  His heaving chest.  Your breath on his face.  Christmas Day.

He shifts and at first you think he might be leaving now that he knows where you are.  Instead, he appears beside you, sliding down to dangle his legs over the edge and wordlessly hand you one of the MREs.

Your throat constricts at the very thought of food, staring down at the sad, brown package as he tears his open and sets it up to heat.  You squint at the label to read the contents.

Cheese Tortellini in Tomato Sauce.  Well, there are worse things. 

"No luck?"  He asks.

You let out a sigh of relief and mentally thank whatever God above he decided against bringing it up.  Instead, you shake your head wearily as you set the MRE aside, deciding to save it for when you know you'll keep it down.  Hypocritical, you know, but you've only been able to find a handful in the rubble thus far.

"No," you breathe, disheartened.  "Still nothing."

A moment passes, filled only by the sound of crickets and the rustle of plastic packaging.  There's movement in the distance followed by barking.  Coyotes, no doubt.  

You both sit in silence for a while and your thoughts slip back into dark territory.  You rub your chilly arms as you stare out over the hellscape before you—wondering how many more bodies out there you have left to gather.  How many families you're failing; leaving their beloved soldiers in the mud to rot because you're losing the ability to walk straight.

Then, Ghost speaks, ripping you out of the depths of your head.

"Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"

You shoot him an incredulous look.  Then, you shake your head with a scoff.  You know what he's trying to do; lighten the mood, in his own strange way.  For a moment it works, and it's easy to pretend you're somewhere else. A simpler time, maybe, where all you had to worry about was which hallways to take to avoid being seen sneaking around the barracks.

You try not to let his obvious attempt at lifting your spirits work.  So, you only raise an eyebrow at him, "really?"

"Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"  He repeats again, nonchalant as ever, as he pushes his food around the package with his fork.

You stare at him for a while before deciding to humor him with a sigh.  "Too many bananas…or something?"

"'Cause he's dead."

"Hm," you nod your head, pursing your lips into a line.  "That was bad even for you."

He huffs, "too soon?"

"Far too soon." 

"Noted."  He shifts, placing his food to the side to take something out of his pocket.  After all these years, it surprises you that even he's still off-put by the smell of death in the air.  "You got a light on you?"

A stupid question—and he knows it.

"Always.  Why?"

He pulls a full pack of Marlboro Reds out of his pocket, flicking the top open.  The packaging is slightly crumpled but otherwise remains spotless, unlike the rest of him.  He plucks one out and holds it out to you.

You glance at the cigarette, then up at his face—almost shocked he managed to keep them safe while the rest of him is so beat up.  You notice bruises are beginning to show under his eyes from his broken nose and there's a stubble starting to form on his jaw, patchy with scars you never noticed until now.

You take out your lighter.  An orange glow lights up his battered face as you flick it twice, let the flame catch, and then shut it again.  He takes a deep inhale, sitting back on his other hand, before letting the smoke billow out past his chapped lips.

"Fuck," he sighs, already slumping with relief.  "Could always count on you for a light.  Good to know that hasn't changed."

"What can I say," you respond, managing what you can of a small smile.  "I'm an angel."

He chuckles lowly.  "You're anything but, Colonel."

He offers the cigarette to you.  It's tempting, really tempting, but the pain in your lungs is far more annoying than the nagging effects of withdrawal. 

"I'm good," you brush his arm away and attempt to hide the tremor in your hands.  "I quit a few years ago."

"Hm," He seems surprised, or maybe he's humoring your obvious lie, you're unsure.  Nevertheless, he presses the cig to his lips again.  "Good on you, then."

You find yourself relaxing again slowly, anxious thoughts easing as you breathe in the smell of nicotine and look up at the stars above.  It's silent save for the sounds of the desert, and you find yourself thinking about a time where you both sat just like this for hours.  Getting by with nothing but the warmth of a heater, a flickering lantern, and a pack of cigarettes to keep you both company.  You remember laughing until your stomach hurt at his dry humor, once upon a time.

"This place is hell," Ghost says, deadpan as ever, as he exhales another cloud of smoke.

Flashes of cold concrete, rough sand, and nauseating heat flash through your mind again.  You realize, then, you prefer the warmth over the cold any day—no matter what you've gone through. 

"I think I'd rather be in hell," you mutter, rubbing your arms.  "At least it's warm, there."

He chuckles a little, and you wonder if he's reminiscing just as you are.

"That it would, Colonel," he says.  "That it would."

It's quiet again.  Years ago, the silence might've been filled by soft touches—a head against a shoulder or a hand on a back.  Instead, you both just sit there.  His hand is just centimeters away from your own, and you wonder if it would be easier to take it or pull away.  Or just…talk.  You want to speak, want to apologize or something—but the words are stuck in your throat.  You want answers, you want closure, but your hand curls into a fist as you realize that fuck.  You're not strong enough to break the question.

He's staring at you.  You can feel when he does it.  For some reason, you always have.  After a moment, you hear him take a breath.  He leans back on his hand as the other flicks his cigarette and comes up to touch the sore part of his head.  

"You know…"  He begins with a sigh. His mouth opens and shuts again, hesitant.  Suddenly, he looks away.  "I—"

"This is Watcher trying to reach Echo 0-2 and Bravo 0-7," a garbled, female voice interrupts him from the radio.  "We hear you, Angel."

@crazy-phan-girl13

[kaylatoonz]

You know, I haven’t really seen that many stories of crazy Carl taking in A mobian beside maybe one story so here my take. Although my first choice for mobian that crazy Carl would take in would be sticks for obvious reasons but since Amy is more likely to be in the films (hopefully), then sticks, I’m gonna go with her.(maybe he could adopt sticks too)

Context:

Since everyone knows about Sonic, plus the gang, Tom has insisted that Carl take down any traps he still has in the forest. Carl begrudgingly agrees to take down the more dangerous traps he placed. Despite him still being a little salty That Sonic drove him crazy for years trying to expose sonic and his paranoia of something else being out there he doesn’t want to risk hurting the blue little guy or his friends.

During one of his late night searches for the last of his traps, he discovers that he was right that something else was out there. Unfortunately, that something got injured in one of his traps. Another hedgehog like sonic but pink and a girl.

Feeling extremely guilty he decides to take in the pink hedgehog just until she’s healed up. Carl carefully releases the pink hedgehog from the trap and patches her up until tomorrow so he can take her to Maddie(who proceeds to chew him out the next day).

Over time they develop a genuine bond between each (they have a grandpa and granddaughter relationship ) despite Amy later learning the trap was Carl’s.

Carl goes from “she’s just staying until she heals up” to “ if anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in this room, and then myself.”

Maybe after a couple of weeks Maddie and Carl deems she ready enough to meet Sonic and the gang since Amy has healed up enough, and she’s less skittish compared to day one. Ever since Maddie told Sonic about the other hedgehog, he's been dying to meet her. Unfortunately for him living with crazy Carl her idea of the blue devil has been secured a bit. So while Amy greets tails and knuckles with warmness and kindness she greets sonic with the cold shoulder.

She tells him that she doesn’t like hedgehogs, who like to bully poor old men. Turns out, Amy wasn’t too fond of finding out that Sonic has been messing with Carl for years to the point that the whole town thought he was crazy. Sonic tries to convince her otherwise, but Amy isn’t having it.

Cue Carl wheezing in the background, while Sonic begs Carl to clear things up with Amy.

Thankfully Carl decides to clear things up after letting sonic squirm for a bit (revenge).

Amy is a bit nicer to him after that but she warns him not to mess with her gramps.