#so you get this dumb set I made a week ago instead

[wearecrowley]

good omens crack 2 of ∞

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - that’s so true

x HIGH MAINTENANCE! KOOK !FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: you're insecure about your relationship with rafe, when he gets closer with sofia

WORD COUNT: +5.2k

GENRE: ANGST to fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

listen to 'that's so true' from gracie abrams for better experience <3.

‘i could go and read your mind

think about your dumb face all the time

living in your glass house, i’m outside, uh’

the late afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of tannyhill’s living room, casting a golden glow on the sprawling estate. you sat cross-legged on the plush cream couch, scrolling through your phone with one hand while idly tugging at the hem of your baby pink knit sweater with the other. notifications of luxury sales popped up intermittently, but your heart wasn’t in it today. instead, your mind was somewhere else. more accurately, on someone else.

across the room, rafe cameron leaned casually against the kitchen island, deep in conversation with sofia. the sound of her laugh—the kind that wasn’t too loud, not too fake—floated over, making your stomach twist.

sofia wasn’t your idea of a kook, not the kind who frequented boutiques or spent hours curating their aesthetic. her laid-back charm was effortless, her simple jeans and oversized hoodie a stark contrast to the tailored mini-skirt you had on. she didn’t even wear jewelry. yet, here she was, drawing rafe in with that natural ease, her hair in a messy braid like she didn’t care, and maybe she didn’t.

you hated how it made you feel. jealous. small. stupid.

“she’s kind,” you had said casually a week ago, after introducing him to her at a party. “quiet and smart girl. we grew up together.”

kind. quiet. the opposite of you.

rafe laughed at something she said, his face lighting up with that rare, genuine smile that made your chest ache. he looked at sofia like she reminded him of simpler times, back when life wasn’t all country club politics and family business drama. you tried to shove the feeling down, but it clawed its way back up, leaving you restless.

were you too much? the bi-weekly nail appointments, the balayage touch-ups every few months, the shopping sprees that felt more like therapy—was that what made you wrong for rafe? you’d caught a glimpse of sofia’s chipped nail polish earlier, and it was the type of thing rafe would probably call “charming.”

the thought was a jagged knife, twisting in your gut.

“babe, you good?” rafe’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts.

you looked up, startled, realizing he was staring at you now, his brows furrowed in mild concern. sofia was gone—when had she left?—and it was just you and rafe in the quiet hum of the room.

“yeah,” you lied, pasting on a smile. “just tired.”

“you sure?” he came closer, towering over you with his familiar scent of cologne and something distinctly rafe. his rough hand brushed your knee, a touch that was meant to reassure but only made you feel more exposed.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “positive.”

he didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. you let yourself sink into him, resting your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his body should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you of how far away you felt.

outside, the sun was setting, its rays casting shadows through the glass windows. you thought about sofia, imagined her in her car with the windows down, humming along to the radio, not worrying about being enough for anyone. and then you thought about yourself—polished, perfect, but perpetually on the outside, peering into rafe’s world, a world where you never felt like you truly fit.

rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“of course,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t true.

‘looking into big blue eyes

did it just to hurt me and make me cry

smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life’

the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you sat on the edge of the beach blanket, digging your manicured nails into the soft fabric. rafe and sofia were waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as the current pushed them around. she squealed when a wave hit her back, and rafe threw his head back in laughter, that easy, carefree laugh you loved so much.

but it wasn’t directed at you.

“you’re not going in?” sarah asked, plopping down next to you with her iced tea in hand. she stretched her legs out, glancing at you sideways.

“not really feeling it,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you smoothed the hem of your sundress. you didn’t trust yourself to look at the water again, not with how raw you were already feeling.

sofia’s voice cut through the air. “rafe! stop!” she shrieked, laughing as he splashed her with water. they looked like a scene out of some beachy rom-com—his strong frame towering over her, her golden-brown hair clinging to her neck as she playfully shoved him.

sarah gave you a look, one you didn’t need right now.

“what?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“don’t what me. you’re sitting here stewing when you should just talk to him.”

“there’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly. too quickly.

sarah sighed. “you’ve been weird ever since sofia came back from europe. she’s your best friend. rafe’s your boyfriend. you need to chill.”

“yeah, i know that,” you snapped, guilt immediately twisting in your stomach. sarah wasn’t wrong, but the truth was too tangled for you to admit out loud.

you turned your head to steal another glance at them. sofia threw her head back in a laugh, her face turned toward the setting sun, water glistening off her skin like she was straight out of a magazine spread. and rafe, with his piercing blue eyes, couldn’t seem to look away from her.

your chest felt tight. you wanted to believe his gaze was harmless, that it was just the kind of attention sofia naturally drew wherever she went. but some dark, irrational part of you whispered that it wasn’t—that rafe was looking at sofia the way you wished he always looked at you.

they started heading back toward the beach, their laughter fading into the sound of the waves. you quickly fixed your expression, schooling it into something neutral, something practiced.

“hey!” sofia grinned as she plopped down next to you, wringing water out of her hair. “you missed out. the waves were amazing.”

“yeah, i just got my hair done,” you smiled lightly, ignoring the pang in your chest.

“your loss,” rafe said as he dropped beside you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you leaned into him, smiling like you always did. sofia leaned over to pull a drink out of the cooler, and your gaze flicked between her and rafe, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes lingering on her for just a second too long.

your heart sank. but you didn’t say anything.

instead, you smiled wider, locking it all away like you always did. this was your life, wasn’t it? loving rafe. loving sofia. watching them shine brighter than you ever could while you tried not to let the cracks show.

‘you’re an idiot, now i’m sure

now i’m positive, i should go and warn her’

the door to rafe’s room slammed shut behind you, the echo reverberating in your chest as you stood there, arms crossed, staring him down. the tension in the air was thick, neither of you willing to break the silence first.

it had started small, like these things always did. a casual question from rafe about why you’d been quiet lately, his concern laced with impatience when you deflected for the third time that day.

“you don’t even let me pay for anything anymore,” rafe said, his tone edged with irritation. “when was the last time you asked me to cover your nails, or your hair, or whatever? that’s what i’m here for.”

your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “i don’t need your money, rafe. i have my own.”

“that’s not the point,” he shot back, stepping closer. “it’s what i do. i’ve always done it. why are you shutting me out like this?”

“i’m not shutting you out,” you argued, your voice rising slightly. “i just don’t see why you have to make it a big deal every time i don’t ask you for something. maybe i don’t want to depend on you for every little thing.”

“that’s not what this is about, and you know it,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. “you’ve been different, and now you’re acting like this is all on me?”

“i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you’d said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“that’s all you ever say now,” he shot back, raking a hand through his hair. “you’ve been acting weird for weeks, and i’m just supposed to ignore it?”

“i’m fine, rafe,” you insisted, even though you weren’t. not even close.

he let out a humorless laugh, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, for someone who talks as much as you, you sure don’t know how to open up when it matters.”

the words stung, more than you wanted to admit. you hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he could take your worst fear—being too much and not enough at the same time—and throw it in your face without even realizing it.

“i’m going out,” you said abruptly, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.

“of course you are,” he muttered, not stopping you.

now, walking briskly through the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the shopping center, you tried to push the fight out of your mind. Retail therapy had always been your escape, and today was no different. the rhythmic click of your heels on the polished floor, the weight of designer bags in your hand—it was comforting, a distraction.

you turned into a high-end boutique, your favorite. the scent of expensive leather and vanilla greeted you, and you lost yourself in the rows of clothes, running your fingers over silky fabrics and embroidered details. you could almost forget the tightness in your chest, the ache that rafe’s words had left behind.

almost.

and then you saw her. sofia.

she was standing by the display of bags near the entrance, her back to you. she looked effortless as always, her hair falling in soft waves, her casual outfit perfectly understated. she was laughing softly at something the sales associate had said, the kind of laugh that seemed to echo in your mind even when she wasn’t there.

your heart twisted.

you thought about the fight with rafe, about how you’d stormed out without looking back. you thought about sofia, about how easy it was for her to exist in the same spaces you had to fight to belong in. and for a fleeting, bitter moment, you wondered if rafe would’ve preferred having her there instead of you.

she hadn’t seen you yet. you could walk over, say hi, pretend everything was fine like you always did. or you could keep going, let the distance grow a little wider.

you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned on your heel, walking past the boutique’s floor-length windows without sparing her a glance.

your phone buzzed in your hand as you entered a store. a text from rafe.

r :3

we need to talk when you get home.

your stomach churned, but you didn’t reply. not yet. you couldn’t face him, not like this. not when you were still reeling from the fight and the sight of sofia, from the gnawing feeling that you didn’t know who you were mad at anymore—sofia, rafe, or yourself.

another buzz.

r :3

i sent you $100. get something you want.

a bitter laugh escaped your lips. was this his way of apologizing, or trying to prove a point?

you slipped your phone into your purse, plastering on a smile for the cashier as you handed over your credit card. this was your life, wasn’t it? smiling through it all, even when you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up.

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

the steady hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in your room as you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. the screen lit up with a new message from sofia.

s<3

hey, i was thinking we should all hang out at tannyhill tonight. you, me, sarah—just a chill night. what do you think?

you bit your lip, hesitating. it had been a long day of avoiding rafe and thinking about him and sofia, about their chemistry that felt so effortless. you and sofia had been best friends for years, but lately, every time she invited you to hang out, it felt like something was missing, like the space between you two had grown wider.

but still… you couldn't shake the feeling that if you went, you’d just be putting on a show, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. you didn’t even know what to say to her anymore, let alone to sarah. the thought of sitting around with them, pretending to have a good time, when your mind kept drifting back to the fight with rafe—it felt exhausting.

you typed out a response, your fingers heavy on the keys.

not tonight. don't feel good. rain check?

you stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. rain check. you were avoiding them. you were avoiding everyone

you hit send.

the moment the message left your screen, you shoved your phone into the bedside drawer and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room suffocating. you closed your eyes, but even in the dark, your mind couldn’t stop spinning.

you imagined rafe at tannyhill with sofia and sarah. maybe they were all hanging out by the pool, laughing at some stupid joke sofia made, her hand casually brushing against rafe’s as they both leaned in to listen to sarah’s gossip. maybe rafe had his arm around sofia’s shoulders, that easy smile of his lighting up his face.

maybe rafe didn’t even notice how he was looking at her. maybe sofia didn’t even know how much it bothered you. but in your mind, it didn’t matter. they were perfect for each other in a way that you didn’t think you could ever be.

a dull ache spread through your chest, and your mind kept playing out the scene—rafe leaning in, talking to sofia in that easy, intimate way that made you feel invisible, like you didn’t even exist in the same world.

the thought hit you hard, almost like a punch to the gut. you’d seen them before, seen that look in his eyes when he wasn’t thinking about it, when it was so effortless. you had been there too. you had been the one sitting on the outside, watching the two of them, wondering if it was just in your head or if rafe truly felt something for sofia.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the images from your mind. but the more you tried to push them away, the clearer they became. you could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance, and it felt like you were drowning in it, unable to catch your breath.

you didn’t know when it had become like this, when everything had started to feel like a competition you weren’t even aware you were part of.

you heard your phone buzz from inside the drawer, pulling you from your thoughts.

a from rafe.

r :3

where are you?

you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button. what could you even say? that you were imagining him and sofia at tannyhill, laughing without a care? that you were afraid of losing him to someone like her?

you didn’t reply. instead, you slid your phone back into the drawer, pulled the covers over your head, and tried to forget everything for a little while longer.

‘what’d she do to get you off? (uh-huh)

taking down her hair like, “Oh my God!”

taking off your shirt, i did that once, or twice, uh’

‘no, i know, i know, fuck off (off)

but i think i like her, she’s so fun

wait, i think i hate her, i’m not that evolved’

the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the beach as you sat down on the sand, the familiar saltwater breeze blowing through your hair. kiara plopped down beside you, her sneakers kicking up a cloud of sand as she settled in, her brow furrowed in that way she did when she knew something was off.

“okay, seriously, what’s going on with you and rafe?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct.

you sighed, dropping your gaze to the sand between your feet. “what do you mean?”

kiara’s eyes softened with concern. “i haven’t seen you two together in forever. and you’ve been off, too. something’s not right.”

you let out a breath, staring at the horizon. “i don’t know, Kie. it’s... complicated.”

kiara raised an eyebrow. “complicated? that’s the word you use after dating for what—how long? over two years now?”

“yeah, well, that’s the thing,” you muttered, biting your lip. “it’s just been—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know. lately, it feels like rafe doesn’t even notice me. like, i’m always there, but not really there, you know?”

kiara tilted her head, studying you with concern. “what do you mean, not really there? he’s not paying attention to you?”

oyu shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “no, it’s like... he’s distant. he’s always been this way with me, but recently, it feels like it’s worse. like he’s more into sofia, or just... not into me, i guess. we’ve been fighting a lot.”

kiara was quiet for a moment, looking out at the waves. “okay, so, this has to do with sofia, doesn’t it?”

you let out a dry laugh, your gaze falling to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “yeah. yeah, it does.”

kie glanced at you sharply, her eyes narrowing. “you’ve always been close with sofia, right? she’s your best friend.”

“i know,” you replied, almost too quickly. “i love sofia, so much. she’s my best friend. i should be happy for her, right? but—” you stopped yourself, the words forming before you could stop them. “but, something i think... i just hate her, too.”

kiara’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“you’re not crazy for feeling this way. but don’t let it eat you alive. don’t let it destroy your relationship. if rafe’s the one, you need to talk to him about it. you need to tell him how you’re feeling, because keeping it all inside isn’t doing anyone any favors, especially not you.”

you took a shaky breath, feeling like there was more you needed to say, but didn’t have the words for. kiara was right, of course. you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it was falling apart, but how could you explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside you? how could you put into words the way you felt about sofia—how much you loved her, and at the same time, how much you resented her for just being everything you weren’t?

“you’re right,” you finally muttered, still not fully convinced. “i just don’t know if i can handle it. what if i tell him and it just makes things worse?”

she gave you a knowing look. “you’ll never know until you try.”

you looked out over the horizon, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the ground. you didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep living in this limbo, hating the things you couldn’t change, and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. you needed to figure it out, for your own sake.

“thanks, kie,” you whispered, leaning back in your chair, the weight of your emotions still heavy, but just a little bit lighter now that you’d said it out loud.

‘i’m sorry she’s missing it, sad, sad boy

not my business, but i had to warn ya’

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool (ooh)

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude

ooh, that’s so true, ooh’

you had barely finished talking with kiara when your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back to the screen. it was sofia.

hey, i just wanted to check in. are you mad at me? i feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately…

you froze, your heart tightening. it had been a few days since you’d distanced yourself from her, but you hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say. you didn’t want to hurt sofia, but you didn’t know how to explain the mess inside your head.

after a few moments, you typed out a response, trying to keep it as light as possible.

i’m not mad at you, sof. just been dealing with some stuff. it’s not about you.

you hit send, watching the little bubbles appear as she started typing. but just before her reply came through, another text popped up. rafe.

hey, i just want to clear something up. sofia’s crying in Sarah’s room. she’s upset about something you said.

your stomach churned. you quickly opened the message.

i don’t know what exactly, but you’re wrong about what you said. she hasn’t done anything to you, and i think you need to talk to her. this is getting out of hand.

you sat there, staring at the message, feeling a mixture of guilt and confusion. what did rafe mean by that? what had you said that upset sofia? your mind raced, trying to piece things together, but all you could think about was the way he’d worded it—like you were the one who was in the wrong, like your feelings didn’t matter.

the weight of the words hung in the air, pressing down on you as you tried to make sense of everything.

sofia’s upset? you thought, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. it wasn’t your intention to hurt her, not at all. but you couldn’t deny the feelings of frustration and jealousy that had been building up. you had felt pushed to the side, like you were being replaced by someone who was just… so much easier, so much cooler than you ever seemed to be.

why does she get everything so effortlessly? you wondered bitterly, remembering the way she seemed to shine so naturally in rafe’s world, her presence so casual, so unaffected. it only made your insecurities grow, but now it felt like you were the one in the wrong.

the next message from sofia finally came through.

i just don’t want to lose you as a friend. if something’s going on, i want to talk about it.

your heart dropped as you read it. you could feel the sincerity in her words, but also the pain. you couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset, especially when it was your fault. you’d always loved sofia, but this weird, twisted feeling you had—of hating her and wanting to be like her at the same time—wasn’t something you had ever known how to deal with.

a deep breath.

you thought about rafe’s message. about how he’d said you were wrong. he was always so quick to take sofia’s side, so quick to defend her, like you were the one in the wrong, even when you were just… trying to figure everything out.

you typed slowly, your fingers reluctant, still caught in the confusion.

i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. i guess i’ve just been feeling a little off lately. things with rafe aren’t exactly… great right now.

you paused, rereading the words before hitting send, feeling vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

not even a minute later, rafe’s name appeared on your screen again. this time, the message was short and to the point.

you need to talk to her, y/n. you’re blowing this out of proportion. just let it go and fix this shit.

the sting of his words hit harder than you expected. you clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to reply with something sharp. it wasn’t that you wanted to push him away—it was that you had no idea how to make him understand how this all made you feel.

you were getting lost in the frustration, in the feeling that no one really saw you, no one really understood where you were coming from.

but you knew you had to do something.

i’ll talk to her, you replied, the words feeling hollow. you didn’t know what you could say that would make everything right, but you knew you had to try.

you sat back against your pillow, staring at the screen, your mind racing. you thought about rafe, about sofia, about everything.

but you couldn’t let that be the end of it. not yet. you had to try. you had to fix it.

‘made it out alive, but i think i lost it.

said that i was fine, said it from the coffin.

remember how i died when you started walkin’?

that’s my life, that’s my life.’

the air was thick with tension as you stood in the living room with sofia and rafe, both of them waiting for you to say something, anything, that would explain the silence that had been hanging between you all for the past few days.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding inside. “i just, need to talk,” you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended, but it was enough to make them both focus on you.

sofia was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern. rafe was leaning against the wall, arms folded too, his usual laid-back demeanor slightly tense.

“i know i’ve been distant lately, and i’ve been avoiding both of you, but it’s because of how i’ve been feeling… and i need you both to know that this is about me, not you.”

sofia raised an eyebrow, glancing at rafe before turning back to you. “what do you mean?”

you took a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as you let them spill out. “i’ve been feeling... insecure. i know it’s stupid, but when i see the way you two get along, it just—it gets to me. you and rafe, you make everything look so easy. and i feel like i have to work so much harder, just to keep his attention, just to feel like I’m enough.”

there was a long, heavy pause. rafe finally spoke, his voice gentle, his expression softening. “you’re wrong, though. i’m with you because i want to be with you. sofia and i are friends, nothing more. but you're the one i want.” he stepped forward, looking at you with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in a while. “i shouldn’t have let you feel that way. i’m sorry.”

sofia looked at you with wide, understanding eyes, her lips turning into a soft smile. “look, n/n, it took me forever to even get to a point where i could be okay with hanging out with him. no offense to you, rafe, but i didn’t want to mess things up for you because i didn't like him. i didn’t want you to think i was trying to steal him away from you. i thought if i could just get along with him, that it would make you feel better .i did it for you, because i thought that’s what you needed.”

your eyes softened, and you took a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of the situation lifting just a little. “i didn’t know that,” you whispered. “i thought... i thought maybe you two were just, i don’t know, better together. you’re both so effortless, and i feel like i’m always trying too hard to be perfect.”

sofia’s face softened as she stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. “you don’t need to be perfect. you’re perfect just the way you are.” she pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want you to ever think i’m a threat to you, okay? you’re my best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”

rafe, who had been watching quietly, took a deep breath, stepping forward to join you both. he reached out, pulling you into a hug as well, his voice low but sincere. “and i’m not going anywhere, babe. you’re the one for me. i’m not interested in anyone else, and i should’ve made that clearer before.”

oyu closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a rush of relief, a weight finally lifting off your shoulders. “i’m sorry, both of you,” you whispered. “i should’ve talked about this sooner instead of letting it fester.”

sofia laughed softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “we’re good, okay? we’re all good now.”

you pulled back from her, still feeling the relief in your chest. “we’re good,” you echoed, smiling at her through your own tears.

there was a long moment of silence, and then rafe cleared his throat, awkwardly stepping back. “okay, okay, this is getting a little too emotional for me,” he said with a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “can we get back to the part where we all pretend we don’t have feelings?”

you both chuckled, wiping at your eyes and trying to stifle your laughter. you grinned at him. “aw, come on, don’t be so awkward about it. you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.”

“yeah, yeah, alright,” rade muttered, looking between the two of you. “but seriously, if you two are done crying, y/n, i think you should get those nails done. yhey’re looking a little... tacky.” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your nails. “i know, right? yhey’ve been a disaster for weeks.”

sofia laughed, nodding. “let’s go get your nails done. it’ll be a perfect excuse to hang out together, and you can stop obsessing over whatever weird thoughts you’ve been having.”

you turned to Rafe, your smile growing wider. “you know what? you’re right. they’re awful.” you made a dramatic gesture at your nails. “i need a new look.”

rafe smirked, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “i’ll pay for it,” he said casually, glancing at the wall. “go on, get whatever you want. i don’t care.”

you stared at him in surprise. “really?”

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “yeah, why not? you deserve it. and i’ll do whatever makes you happy, okay?”

sofia looked at you, her grin widening. “see? even rafe knows you deserve a little treat.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “alright, fine. let’s go. but only because i need a distraction from all the feelings today.”

the three of you made your way to the door, but before you stepped out, you turned to sofia, pulling her into another hug. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

she squeezed you tight. “always. now, let’s get you those nails, and then i want to hear about everything.”

as you all walked out the door together, rafe following behind you, you couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had finally been lifted. things weren’t perfect, but they were real. and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“alright, alright,” rafe said, his voice teasing as he slapped his hands together. “let’s get this nail thing over with. and don’t get any too crazy designs.”

you laughed, leaning into sofia as you all walked down the street.

"promise," you said, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.

‘i’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings

don’t you know the vibe?

don’t you know the feeling?

‘you should spend the night,

catch me on your ceiling

that’s your prize, that’s your prize’

‘oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude,

ooh, that’s so true, ooh, ooh, uh’

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Give Them Space | Chan + Minho | Pt4

pt1 pt2 pt3

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Chan

Chan had been restless for days, pacing his studio floor, his heart heavy with guilt.

You were supposed to be back home in Korea three days ago. But instead he got these strange texts and hadn't heard from you since.

He hadn't texted since either. A part of him wished he did but he was scared.

Because what if-

No. You weren't the type to do that.

He deeply regretted the texts he had sent to you. The replayed in his mind, the words he’d typed out, the anger, the frustration…the way he said he had shipped you off because, as he so rudely put it, you were “nagging” him.

You dumb fuck what were you even thinking sending that??

Sure it was annoying to get notif after notif- especially when he was trying to finish a track for a show that would be premiering in the upcoming weeks. But it wasn't your fault that the company had fucked up with the time management- since he had already had to help three girl groups with their production.

So he had gotten you a ticket home, hoping that maybe he could knock everything out while you were away. Since he knew you would make him take a break if you were here.

You would make him take care of himself.

But even when you were thousands of miles away you still made sure he was taken care of.

And he took that for granted; and was an absolute jerk.

What the hell was I thinking?

Chan groaned, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of his own stupidity. His phone buzzed - a message from Han:

Lights are on at Y/N's place. Bro, fix it.

He didn't need any more encouragement. Grabbing his jacket and keys, Chan headed straight for your apartment, determined to set things right, even if he had to grovel.

I'll grovel. For as long as you make me.

Arriving at your apartment, Chan noticed a pair of men’s shoes at the door. Combat boots.

He stopped, confusion twisting in his gut. That wasn’t right. They weren't his. It was brand he was unfamiliar with; one he hadn't purchased from before so who-

No...Y/N wouldn't.

His heartbeat quickened as he pushed open the door cautiously. The smell of food wafted out from the kitchen, and he could hear someone rummaging around. Then, out walked a guy- tall, broad, and way too casual, holding a bowl of ramen in one hand a fork in the other and looking at Chan like he had every right to be there.

"Oh, hey bro," the guy said, grinning as he stuffed a mouthful of noodles in his mouth. "You must be the ex." He stretched out the "x" sound, stuffing a forkful of noodles in his mouth.

Chan froze. The word ex sent a sharp sting through his chest. "Ex?" he repeated, his voice low with disbelief.

"Yeah," the guy continued, setting the bowl down like this wasn’t the most awkward interaction ever. "Heard you shipped Y/N off. A little bit harsh, if you ask me, but hey, Y/N can be a handful."

Chan's jaw tightened, anger flaring up. Who was this guy? Why was he acting like you were-

"Who the hell are you?"

The guy smirked, wiping his hands nonchalantly. "Oh, me? I’m just the guy who loves Y/N."

Chan took a step forward, his fists clenched. "You better start explaining yourself before I-"

Before Chan could finish, the sound of your voice cut through the tension.

“What the hell is going on here?”

You stood at the bathroom doorway, still in a towel with wet hair dripping onto your shoulders, eyes narrowing in frustration.

Chan whipped around, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. "Who is this?" he demanded, pointing to the guy.

The guy grinned, looking entirely too smug. “Haven’t told him yet? Wow, you’re brutal.”

You shot him a deadly look. "You, sit your ass down and shut the hell up. I swear, you have no sense. Must have been all the times Dad dropped you."

Chan blinked, his anger momentarily paused by his confusion. "Wait…what?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as if dealing with two idiots at once was too much. "Chan, this is my brother. He’s on break from the military. And you," you turned your glare toward your brother, "are being an idiot for messing with him when you know damn well what’s been going on."

Your brother had the audacity to smirk, plopping down on the couch and grabbing his ramen again. "Well, maybe if someone hadn’t sent you those dickish texts, I wouldn’t have had to step in. You've always been a pushover." He stuffed his mouth again, speaking around the food. "You forgive too easily so I had to give your boyfriend a little hell for it."

Chan looked bewildered, turning between you and your brother. "Wait, you sent those texts?"

Your brother chuckled. "Yeah, saw what you sent her before, and well- someone had to put you in your place. ‘Nagging too much’? C’mon, man, that’s some weak stuff. Didn’t your mom teach you better than to talk to your partner like that?”

You slapped your brother’s arm. "You idiot! Do you know how much drama you just caused?! Chris is an overthinker!"

“Yeah, well, I figured it was time to teach your boyfriend some respect."

"How the hell did you even figure out my password?!"

"JiminJinfangirl21 has been your password to everything for the longest time. It was an easy guess."

Your face turned read and you looked at Chan. "I can explain-"

Chan, still processing the fact your brother sent the messages turned to you. "Wait- so when I got those texts-"

"I was taking a nap, and he was being an instigating moron!" You gestured to your brother, who just winked at Chan, clearly not sorry.

"But why didn't you come home..."

You rose an eyebrow. "Because I wanted to be petty. And my brother was going to fly out to meet you anyways- it was going to be a surprise- so I just waited so we could be on the same flight."

Chan looked between you two, and then it hit him. Everything. The argument, the misunderstanding, his own stupidity. His expression softened. “Y/N… I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much trouble I was causing by acting like this. You've always been forgiving and I was just expecting to apologize and get your forgiveness like always. Its idiotic of me to think that's a good excuse to say things like that to you. What I said, it was wrong. I have no excuses."

You crossed your arms, your tone firm but softening. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have said what you did. It was mean. And extremely hurtful. The fact that you would 'send me away' for it really made me feel like my existence is just a burden to you."

Chan's eyes widened in fear. "It's not! Y/N please please believe me it isn't."

"I know it isn't, pabo..." You sighed. "I do nag you sometimes, but it’s because I care. I care too much because I love you so much. I thought maybe if it came from me, you’d actually listen. But if you don’t want me to, I’ll stop."

"No." Chan stepped closer, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Please don’t. Don’t stop. I’d rather have you nag at me a thousand times than not hear from you at all. I-" he swallowed, his voice catching slightly. "I need you, Y/N. You’re my anchor. I know I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you over my own insecurities and frustrations."

Your eyes softened, the weight of his words sinking in. "Chan I don’t want to lose you either. Ever. But you have to start listening when I’m trying to help, not just push me away. Rather than just me everyone. We all want to help. And you can't treat me like that because you know I will forgive you...it's a bit manipulative. And I know that's not you which is why I'm forgiving you. But you wouldn't feel so stressed if you listened." You pouted stubbornly.

He nodded, stepping closer and reaching for your hand. "I promise. I’ll listen, baby. I’ll be better. Just…please, don’t give up on me."

You rolled your eyes. "Chan, what in this conversation made you think I would ever give up on you. You're insufferable." You said giving a breathy laugh and planting a quick and light kiss on his lips.

Your brother, who had been watching this exchange with mild interest, suddenly chimed in, “Aww, look at you two. This is cute and all, but I’m too young to have nieces and nephews.”

Both you and Chan turned to him, your annoyance in perfect sync.

“No, that’s not what-” Chan stammered, waving his hands in protest.

"Didn’t I tell you to shut up?" You grabbed a throw pillow and launched it at your brother, who caught it with a grin.

“Oh, come on, I’m just playing-”

Before he could finish, you charged at him, and within seconds, the two of you were wrestling on the couch. Chan watched in half-horror, half-amusement as your brother tackled you, the bowl of ramen teetering precariously on the edge of the table before falling onto the floor with a crash.

"Y/N!" your brother howled, dodging your attempts to hit him with another pillow. "You’re too slow!"

“I swear, either you’re going back to the military today or we're doing bathroom surgery with my foot and you'll never give me any nieces or nephews." You growled as you tried to kick your brother off of you- him just dodging that DIY vasectomy as you struggled under his weight. “Babe, help me!”

Chan, shaking his head with a fond smile, stepped forward and pulled your brother off you. "Alright, man, that’s enough. She’s gonna break your neck at this rate."

Your brother sat up, wiping a bit of ramen broth off his cheek, still laughing. "Fine, fine, I surrender. But only ‘cause I don't think a 2v1 would be fair." He eyed Chan's muscle definition. "You box?"

You got up, smoothing your hair with a huff and looking at Chan cutting him off before he could answer your brother. "Can we please lock him out of my apartment?"

Chan chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Maybe after I get him to clean up his mess." He said squatting down to pick up the fork.

Your brother raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Clean up? If Mom were here, she'd tell you to do it since you started it. Unless your boyfriend wants to-"

This time it was Chan who grabbed the pillow and aimed it right at his face.

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Minho

As Chan’s car rumbled down the gravel road, Minho stared anxiously out the window, his leg bouncing restlessly. A location pin in the middle of nowhere. No explanation although he asked.

His mind was racing, the earlier argument replaying in his head on a constant loop.

"I bet Y/N is fine. There is no reason to lie about being fine in this kind of situation. If there was any immediate danger I'm more than sure there would have been a deeper explanation." Chan said as he swerved through the wooded road.

But Minho's mind was racing with other things.

You were fine. He believe you. But this was a harsh reality check for him.

God forbid if you weren't okay...

He would have lived with an immense guilt.

The words he had thrown at you- inadvertently calling you a moocher, saying you texted too much, basically calling you useless- they weren’t true, not really. Not at all.

He willingly gave you everything he had. And would give you more if it wasn't for you constantly saying he was too generous.

He’d just been frustrated, tired. In the middle of another useless meeting, coming back from an argument with a choreographer. But now, sitting in the car with nothing but the quiet hum of the engine, the crunch of the tires and gravel and his guilt gnawing at him, he wished he could take it all back.

As they neared the spot where you were supposed to be, Minho’s heart pounded in his chest. The second he spotted you illuminated in Chan's headlights standing in the distance, his breath caught in his throat while his Hyung letting out a traitorous gasp. You were hunched over something, and as the car rolled to a stop, his heart plummeted.

Blood.

Streaks of red were smeared across your white shirt. His stomach twisted, ice flooding his veins.

"Oh my God-" Minho’s voice cracked as he fumbled with the seatbelt, barely getting it off before stumbling out of the car. His hands were shaking, his mind racing through a million terrifying scenarios. His entire body felt like it was seizing up with fear. "Are you hurt?!" he shouted, his voice louder and more frantic than he intended. "Jagi, are you hurt?!"

Chan was quick to jump out after him, grabbing his arm to keep him grounded. "Minho, calm down," Chan said firmly, trying to steady him. "Let’s just see what’s going on."

Minho barely heard him, his eyes fixated on the blood staining your clothes. Not even able to notice the utterly calm look you had on your face. Although that hadn't been overlooked by Chan.

His heart was in his throat, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Every worst-case scenario flooded his mind in an instant.

"Y/N!" he called again, stumbling toward you, his knees weak. But as he got closer, his eyes shifted to what was in your arms.

Not you.

The blood wasn't yours.

It was a cat.

Minho stopped dead in his tracks, his panic still buzzing in his veins, but slowly starting to ebb as he processed what he was seeing. The cat in your arms was bloodied, its fur matted and filthy. You were cradling it like it was made of glass, your expression filled with worry.

Chan’s hand was still on Minho’s arm, and he felt the pressure ease slightly as his best friend let out a long breath. "See? Y/N is fine," Chan said in quiet relief, though there was still a hint of concern in his voice.

Minho’s chest tightened, his heart hammering in his ears. Fine? You were standing in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood. Sure, it wasn’t yours, but the shock still rattled through him, his pulse thrumming wildly.

You only acknowledged your boyfriend when you looked up to see him hovering. In an instant he was sat next to you.

Minho’s fingers brushed lightly through the cat’s blood-matted fur, his touch so delicate you almost didn’t feel it. He gently took the cat out of your arms and cradled it closer, his thumb running carefully over its ear in slow, soothing motions. You watched as his face softened in a way you rarely saw, his eyes wide with awe, as if this was the first cat he had ever seen.

"Pretty girl..." He murmured as the cat purred lightly. "Such a pretty girl...shh it's okay...tsk tsk tsk." He bopped her nose.

It was almost amusing, the way he looked at the cat like it was a rare treasure. You knew Minho loved cats- he always had -but this was on another level. His gaze was intense, focused entirely on the creature in his arms, like nothing else in the world existed. It was hard not to crack a smile despite the situation. His affection for the cat was so consuming that it momentarily made you forget the harsh words from earlier.

The entire reason you had gone on a walk to clear your mind- which had turned into looking for the cat you had texted him about.

His fingers moved in a rhythmic pattern, slow and deliberate, as if he was committing every inch of the cat’s fur to memory. "You’re okay, baby" he whispered to the cat, his voice barely audible, yet full of so much tenderness it made your chest ache.

For a second, it was like he was in his own world, completely absorbed in comforting the injured animal. It was almost absurd, watching him act like this was the only cat that had ever graced the earth, and you internally laughed at the thought of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori seeing their dad like this.

The way his eyes never left the cat’s mismatched ones, like they had some sort of silent understanding between them- it would have been funny if it weren’t so strangely touching.

"“You’ve seen cats before, Minho," you teased lightly,brushing some dirt off of yourself and picking at the dried blood. "You look like this is the first one you’ve ever laid eyes on."

Minho didn’t even blink, his attention still locked on the cat, but the corner of his lips tugged upward slightly. "This one’s different," he murmured, and his voice held a possessiveness that surprised you. It was like he was staking a claim, not just over the cat, but over the moment itself, like this was something only the two of you shared.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him. The earlier argument seemed to fade into the background, and for a moment, it was just you, Minho, and the cat- your cat, you realized. In the moment you had decided she would be yours. There was something strangely comforting about the way he handled the situation, so focused on caring for the small, fragile life in his hands.

"I think it's just a rough cut...like she got her paw stuck in something." He said as he gently prodded the small creature. "She'll be okay if we bandage her up."

"Then I’ll take my baby home," you whispered after a while, trying to reclaim a little of the tension that had ebbed away out of pure pettiness, but it came out more tired than you expected, thus not receiving the response you wanted. You reached for your cat but Minho pulled back.

Without missing a beat, his eyes snapped up to yours. "Our baby," he corrected, his voice firm yet soft, almost possessive as he held the cat closer to his chest. There was a protective edge to his tone, like he wouldn’t let anyone, or anything come between him and this cat.

You blinked at him in surprise. "What?"

"Our baby," Minho repeated, more certain this time, his thumb brushing against the cat’s ear again with so much gentleness it made your heart twist. His eyes were locked on yours now, no longer just on the cat. "Ours."

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. There was something about the way he said "ours" that made the pit in your stomach ease, a warmth spreading in its place.

The ride back to your place was quiet, with Minho still cradling the cat like it was the most important thing in the world. You leaned back in your seat, your mind replaying the argument from earlier. His words had hurt, but now seeing him like this- so tender and protective -it was hard to hold onto the resentment. You glanced at Chan through the rearview mirror, who gave you a small, reassuring smile from the driver’s seat.

After a long moment of silence, you decided to poke fun again, if only to see how Minho would react. "Seems like Minho cares about the cat more than me, huh, Chan?" You tried to keep your voice light, but a hint of sadness and hurt slipped through.

Chan’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, but before he could even respond, Minho cut in, his voice surprisingly soft. "That’s not true."

You turned toward him, eyebrows raised in surprise. He was still looking down at the cat, but his grip tightened just slightly, his thumb stroking its fur with the same gentle, careful touch. He bit his lip and swallowed.

Minho’s gaze lifted slowly to meet yours, his dark eyes holding an unusual tenderness. "You know…" he began, his voice quiet but steady. "This cat…it’s our first kid."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Our first kid?"

He gave a tiny nod, his lips curving into the faintest smile. "Yeah. It’s ours. Our baby." He paused as if he wanted to say more. "Y/N I'm...I might not be great with words, but I care." He glanced down at the cat again, his voice dipping lower. "A lot. More than you could ever know."

It was so Minho- awkward, roundabout, but sincere. It wasn’t a straightforward apology, but it was his way of telling you he regretted what he said earlier. His gaze softened even further as he looked at you, his grip still tenderly holding your "child".

Your heart swelled, the hurt from earlier dissipating as warmth replaced it. You smiled at him, leaning closer. "So, this cat is our first kid, huh?"

He hummed in agreement, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Yeah…our first kid," he said, the possessiveness in his voice almost endearing now. "She's so pretty just like you, hm?"

For the first time since the argument, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The way Minho looked at the cat like it was something precious and irreplaceable made your heart soften.

And the way he looked at you with ten times the amount of affection on a daily basis.

Maybe he wasn’t the best with words, but moments like this reminded you that his actions often spoke louder. And to take somethings woith a grain of salt.

As the car continued down the road, you leaned your head back, sneaking another glance at Minho. He was still holding the cat with the same delicate care, his fingers lightly stroking her fur as she rested in his arm, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. He hadn’t let go of her for a second, as if she was the most precious thing ever.

Watching him now, the earlier harshness of his words seemed distant, like a bad dream that was already fading in the daylight. The Minho beside you- the one who was petting the cat like it was his lifeline, who quietly called it "our baby" -wasn’t the same person who had called you useless just hours ago.

You smiled softly to yourself, feeling a weight lift from your chest. This was how you knew that the hurtful words he had sent your way were nothing more than frustration, born out of a heated moment. They held no truth deeper than the fleeting anger that had fueled them. His actions now- the way he cradled the creature, the gentle way he spoke to you, the intimate words he used; even the panic in his voice at the mere thought of you being hurt -revealed the real Minho, the one who cared deeply, even if he wasn’t always great at showing it.

And somehow, in this quiet moment, that was all the apology you needed.

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Edit: People keep telling me Minho should have groveled😭 🙏 i know guys but i wanted to bring a little diversity cause unfortunately there are people in the world who wouldn't apologize for something like this or they will go about it in a roundabout way 😭🙏 And I figured either Minho or Seungmin would best fit those roles so that's why I wrote him that way - but next time I'll make him grovel 😭 🙏

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[multifariousqueer]

can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe

Sure love!!!

A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷

It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.

You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.

Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:

“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”

“Oh don’t worry about it” you said

“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.

“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him

“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils

But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.

Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:

Miles: did someone take your card?

You: no why??

Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??

You: I’m at the mall

Miles: so? I pay for your shit

You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀

Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit

You: you aren’t my sugar daddy

Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute

You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:

You: Okay

You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:

Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?

You: ?

Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?

You: ok

Miles: ?

You: we can discuss this when I get home

Miles: K

You: k

It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:

“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked

“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face

[themeraldee]

So the gif set of Homelander trying to surprise Stormfront got me thinking: in the same vein, what if you & Homie were in a secret relationship and while working at the tower he finds you and tells you he has a surprise for you…but unlike SF you get all giddy and go along with him, excited and touched that he wanted to surprise you with something sweet. Imagine his dumb little happy face when he sees how happy he made you. The sweet moment between you would then turn into something spicy as you thanked him for being romantic 🥵😈 that is all 😁

I love this!! you know even if she did come with him at first Stormfront would totally not appreciate the gesture as much as all of us would... just saying. But I love how much of a sap he is!!!! If he found someone who would genuinely love him and someone he would respect he'd be such a giddy, romantic cutie.

I totally wanted to write this because I need to see his gestures appreciated!!! However it turned out a little stiff - hopefully you still enjoy my humble attempt at recreating this beautiful image you painted!! (Also I focused on the romance of it so much the smut suddenly felt out of nowhere so have a smut-free fic from me for once, something I didn't think I was capable of 😂)

[Masterlist]

| 1.4k | Homelander x female!Reader | Established Relationship. Fluff.

This meeting couldn’t get any longer. You spend the entire hour taking notes, actually paying attention to what the Marketing team presents so you can implement any changes they request. That part is easy.

What’s not easy is the way you can constantly feel Homelander’s gaze on you, as if he’s undressing you with his eyes. And knowing him, that’s exactly what he’s been doing the entire meeting. Suddenly you’re glad for the matching set you chose to wear under your professional get-up.

Each day that you keep your relationship a secret he pushes the boundary, seeing how much you can take until you crack and just go public with him. Though it’s not as if he’s not been thoroughly enjoying this little secret affair you two have going on. 

Normally it’s a graze of his gloved hand down your side, or he places it on your lower back as he moves past you. Plus he always gives your waist a squeeze anytime he ‘innocently’ manages to get his hands on you. He’s waiting for someone to notice. Not that anyone would dare call him out on anything. So instead he keeps on toeing the line of what’s appropriate for coworkers to see and what would border on sexual harassment, with them not knowing your relationship history. 

You throw him back a few glances as if to say cut it out, but he just sends you a sly smirk. God, he’s insufferable. Strangely, a quality of his you vehemently love. 

The meeting finally concludes and the rest of the attendees slip out of the room. Now that you two are the last ones in he stands behind you, hands gliding up and down your sides. 

“Stop, you’re untucking my blouse.” It’s a weak complaint, your tone coloured with glee at just having his hands on you.

He leans his head forward nuzzling into the juncture of your neck, inhaling the scent of you. Tailored perfectly to his senses as it’s the same perfume he’s gifted you two weeks ago.

“Come with me, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He murmurs into your skin, the heat of his breath and the subtle vibration of his words makes your stomach flip. A surprise?

“Really? I love surprises!” You can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across your lips, pure delight filling you at the thought of him going out of his way to prepare a surprise for you.

“Good. You’re gonna love this one. Come.” He pulls away, instead wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can tug you behind him. As if you wouldn’t follow him anyway. Again, it’s just another one of his little ways to show everyone else a hint of his true claim on you.

Your office is on the same floor as the meeting room so your journey there is quick. He gently urges you in while having you face him and with a click he locks the door behind you both.

Before you even get a chance to say anything he pulls you in for a kiss. Both of his hands on your jaw, cradling you as close as he can. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. With the way he whimpers into the kiss the one hour may as well have been a year. You’re no less enthusiastic but it always makes your knees weak at how eager he is to kiss you.

Just as you’re pulling away with a giggle, he captures your lips with a few more kisses, peppering them all over. 

“You’re crazy.”

“Mhm, crazy in love maybe.” Unable to resist the redness he kissed into your lips he leans in again. This kiss is less hungry, more focused on showcasing his love for you with a tender touch. 

“If this is the surprise, I am definitely not complaining.” 

“Charming. But not quite.” He gives your body a little spin, facing you towards the desk in your office.

You gasp at the sight of a bursting bouquet of rich red roses already propped up and arranged in a vase. “Oh my god!” Comes out of you in surprise and with a few steps you’re right in front of them eagerly inhaling the fresh scent. Your eyes immediately flicker back up to him. “Thank you, these are so gorgeous!” You’re so excited and overtaken by the sight of the gorgeous blooms you totally miss the little card embedded towards the back of the bouquet.

You pluck it out. Your finger smooths over the nice feel of the paper as you read the note.

The pre-printed text says With Love. But right underneath there’s an added note in a very recognizable handwriting. 

Happy one month anniversary. 

Homelander, xo

If you told anyone how much of a romantic sap Homelander could be, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. Yet nothing fills your heart with more fondness than the ways he shows his love for you. Your eyes turn a little glassy as you softly touch where he wrote his name.

Looking up at him you notice just how unlike himself he’s turned. He’s all boyish and bashful while you take in his gift. Clearly pleased it’s having such an effect on you.

You all but run back to him throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Anything for my girl.” He’s smiling just as brightly as you did before, preening at how good of a job he’s done at making you happy. 

“However, that’s not all.” He says with a mischievous raise of his eyebrows as he steps closer to your desk, retrieving a long sleek box from the first drawer. Clearly planted there by him for this exact moment.

“What? Oh no, you shouldn’t have!” You coo at the sweet gesture. He’s every bit the perfect Valentine’s ad and you’re eating it right up. You don’t care for the opulence he brings into your life, albeit it’s a very nice benefit, but you understand it’s the one way he knows how to show his love. So instead of protesting the costs you let him shower you in extravagant gifts. You’re sure at this point that the monetary value of said gifts easily exceeds your life savings. 

He passes you the luxurious box for you to open up and in the meanwhile already he’s pinching the fingertips of his gloves, pulling them off.

You crack the box open, your jaw dropping at the reveal of the bracelet he got for you. It’s not just ridiculously expensive, it’s also personalized. In a cursive font, the back of the gold plate is engraved. With love, Homelander. Just like the card. Part of you wonders which one came first.

Your jaw is still dropped as you sputter in surprise and awe, eyes flickering in between the gift and him. “I have no words. Wow. I mean—for one it’s beautiful!” You’re mesmerized by how the embedded diamonds on the front of the bracelet reflect the artificial light of your office. 

“I’m glad you like it. May I?” He asks but without waiting for an answer he plucks the bracelet from its cushion, discarding the box on your desk.

Nodding you put your arm out, pulling a little at your sleeve to expose your wrist better. With his bare hands he puts the two ends of the bracelet around your wrist. Clasping the dainty chain that holds the slim engraved plate together.

You stare at it in reverence but it’s not the glittering diamonds that have your attention. No. It’s the cold metal pressing against your wrist. His engraved name sits against your skin like a brand. Now you can carry him with you wherever you want. A physical reminder that you’re his. Right against your wrist. You don’t even realize what face you’re pulling. But from the way he’s looking back at you it’s gotta be a good one. The look on his face just tells you that he’d buy the entire store if it meant you’d crack a smile half as bright as the one you’re gracing him with now. 

You let out a stuttered little breath. “I love it. I love you.” You say with such honesty and rawness it catches him off guard. You’re the first person who’s ever been so genuine with their feelings towards him. There’s never been any hidden agenda. You’re not trying to butter him up just to get a favor out of him. You’re as genuine as it gets. A quality of yours he finds invaluable.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them against your soft skin. He places a second kiss right next to where the bracelet sits. 

No matter what he knows that for him you wear your heart on your sleeve and now his name on your wrist.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part five

part one part two part three four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; luke tries to apologise for the party, but it takes you a while to forgive him (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3753

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, swearing

➻ did this take a month? yes. am I sorry? yes. will it happen again? absolutely

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth @maraudersmyloves losergirlcrowley amortencjja wisecrownpaper iammightsadyall odeasforyou rlqfpdl

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You were humiliated. You’d spent all night crying, mortification setting in thick over your body as you lay on your bed. However, despite how embarrassed you were, you were mostly angry. Angry at Luke for acting so affectionate, for making you believe that he really liked you then pulling away at the last second. Angry at yourself. Angry that after all these years, all it took was one stupid boy to bring down all your walls; angry that you let yourself be led into this situation.

And so that morning, instead of letting yourself mope around about it anymore, you picked yourself up with a new determination. You were angry, and everyone was going to know about it. Your braids were pulled extra tight, not in the mood to deal with flyaways or gentleness, and the smudged eyeliner around your eyes served as a reminder of the tears you’d wasted.

There was a much shorter line at the Lava Wall than usual. Although skipping out on activities could earn you some shitty chores or revoked dessert privileges, your bad mood had seeped into the whole area, practically lowering the temperature around you. You only had a few newer campers dare to enter your territory, and it took a Herculean effort to not snap at them for even coming near you.

Luke watched you from afar, hidden away in one of his typically safe smoking spots. He was trying to gauge your mood, see if anything was fixable. His prospects currently looked grim. He watched in anticipation as a young girl made a dumb mistake. Luke thought it wouldn’t have been her fault — Chiron had made him tour her around camp only a few weeks ago and she’d been pretty beat up before she got to camp. He watched you yank her off the Lava Wall moments before disaster, and held his breath as you both seemed to falter. The girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, and your face was unreadable, which was usually not a good thing. Just as he thought you were going to take out all your feelings on the scared kid, you crouched down to her level, thumb wiping away her spilled tears. You spoke softly to her, bringing her down from an impending breakdown with a gentleness that didn’t often emerge at camp.

The interaction gave Luke some hope, maybe your heart hadn’t totally closed off. That thought was quashed, however, when minutes later you ripped Travis Stoll a new one for being an ‘egotistical dickhead’ as he fooled around on the wall. Luke was genuinely shocked at the volume which came from your body, he could have mistaken it for a conch horn. Even Travis seemed a little taken aback at your outburst. Usually your bad moods were pretty easy to avoid — stay out of your way and you stayed away from others. Clearly today, though, you had anger to get out of your system, and you weren’t hesitant in expressing it.

You were still upset by lunchtime, and your day only got worse.

“Dance for me, cowboy,” Katy Gardener yelled, evil grin shining across the Dining Pavilion. You kept your head down and ignored it, hurrying to your table. A body popped up in front of you, blocking your path.

“What do we owe you for the table dance, babe?” Ethan crooned, and if you were in a slightly more private setting you would have decked him. You grumbled out a “Fuck you,” and shoved past him towards Drew, knowing that at least she wouldn’t reproach you in public. Ethan clearly wasn’t done with you yet, though, and began an all too innocent conversation with Mr D.

“Why don’t you ask how her weekend was, Mr D?” He said, throwing a casual glance over to you.

“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb ass, Elton, I don’t wanna hear it.” You could have kissed Mr D, and then immediately recoiled at the thought. Ethan’s embarrassed expression was enough to please you though, and you sunk into your meal silently, but at least not active with anger.

After lunch Luke tried to apologise to you, or explain himself at least. He knew you were upset, but he was still feeling good about himself. He had noble intentions, and was doing objectively the right thing by not taking advantage of you when you were drunk. None of these sentiments were expressed, though, when you stormed right past him, making sure to land an extra aggressive stomp on his foot as you went. Chris couldn’t hold back his loud laugh, clapping Luke on the back in semi-sympathy as he headed to his own next activity. Luke stood dumbly in his spot for a few minutes, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Clearly you were more upset than he thought.

Your own next activity was Ancient Greek with Mr D. You didn’t know why he taught it at all given you personally thought he was hardly fluent, but it was one activity you actually didn’t mind, especially as you got older. Whilst the younger kids had lessons focused on getting used to the alphabet and language, the elder campers who were more fluent had more traditional ‘english’ classes — learning about texts and languages, only in Ancient Greek so the dyslexia didn’t slow you down as much.

You shot Mr D a tightlipped smile as you walked into the pavilion, hoping to get by the lesson unscathed, though you didn’t have much hope. Both Ethan and Luke were in this class, and you really didn’t want to see either (though Luke usually skipped, so he wasn’t such a pressing issue).

Just your luck, Ethan was already in his unassigned assigned seat behind you, filling in the campers who didn’t attend the party about your escapades. You just rolled your eyes, trying to seem somewhat graceful about your own actions, but the leering eyes of your peers was making it supremely difficult. For once you did regret not making many friends at camp — if you had, maybe your humiliation wouldn’t be such a hot topic, but the very presence of your class reminded you why you had no interest in being friends with them.

The room thankfully quietened down when Mr D walked in, the whole camp somewhat wary of his temper. He started the lesson: Shakespeare. You perked up a bit from your slouched position in the chair. Whilst school wasn’t exactly your strong point with the ADHD and dyslexia, Shakespeare was something you actually kind of understood. When you were younger your Dad had taken you and Silena to a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you’d loved it ever since. Shakespeare translated into Greek was maybe your dream.

Mr D started talking about sonnets, and you got the distinct impression that he didn’t totally know what he was talking about — or just didn’t care enough to go into any detail. You figured that was more correct since he was the god of theatre, but you could never be totally sure with Dionysus. Regardless, he’d moved on from explaining the basic form of a sonnet and had set you a project: write your own version of Shakespeare’s sonnet 141. You sat straighter in your seat, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto your face. You raised your hand, slightly offended by Mr D’s eye roll.

“Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?” He sighed, but you persevered nonetheless.

“Do you want it in iambic pentameter?” You asked.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” He hesitated, and you revelled in the fact that you could still surprise him after all these years.

“No, I think it’s a really good assignment.”

“You’re just messing with me, right Barton?”

“Beauregard,” You corrected for the thousandth time, “But no. I’m really excited to write it.” You picked uncomfortably at your cargos as the class watched your exchange.

“Go see Chiron.”

“What?”

“Get out!” He yelled, not quite angry but you weren’t going to be the one to test him. There were rumours of previous campers who’d been turned into dolphins and you did not want to continue that legacy. You wandered out of Greek class, still slightly confused at what had just happened, and headed back to your cabin, not bothering to go see Chiron. With the cabin to yourself you tried to get a start on Mr D’s project, but inspiration was lacking and you resorted to taking a nap instead.

The rift between you and Luke became public knowledge at that night’s campfire. Without even realising it you’d started sitting with him most nights (or rather he sat with you, bothering you until you submitted to a conversation). Then suddenly you were avoiding him like the plague, spitting out a harsh “Get fucked, Castellan,” when he called your name softly, almost begging you to talk to him. You were never one to back down from your decisions though, and left him in the dust, taking a seat next to Clarisse. You could tell even Chris could see something was seriously wrong as he pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s hand and disappeared somewhere, presumably to sit with Luke.

You didn’t even really know why you were at the campfire in the first place. You’d been only a handful of times before you knew Luke, and now you didn’t want to know him yet here you were. Clarisse tried to keep you entertained with her quiet comments — which did admittedly make you snort a laugh once or twice, but you were otherwise miserable. You sure as hell weren’t going to participate or chat to anyone, and you were really regretting not just pursuing your usual routine of getting to the top of the Aphrodite cabin for stargazing. Plus, you could feel Luke’s eyes following your every move, and you were getting fed up with the kicked puppy act.

Your final straw was the singing — why was everyone in Camp Half-Blood so obsessed with singing? The second some douchebag from Apollo brought out a guitar you were done, launching yourself out of your seat and stomping back towards your cabin for some peace and quiet. Just as you were crossing the threshold out of the amphitheatre a hand grabbed your arm and you whirled around to face the culprit, ripping your arm out of his embrace.

“Touch me again, Castellan, and I swear to the Gods I will make sure you have no hands to use.”

“Look, I just wanted—”

“I don’t care, Castellan. We don’t always get what we want, do we?” You knew you were being mean, but you frankly didn’t care. When Luke was shocked into silence, mouth slightly open as he searched for anything to say, you took the opportunity to leave him in the dust, trying to keep your confident walk even as your legs were shaking slightly.

“Bro, what did you do to her?” Beckendorf approached Luke up near the exit of the amphitheatre.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke snapped, before taking a beat to calm himself down, “She would’ve been too drunk to remember.”

“But the plan was working!”

“What do you care? I thought you wanted out.” A slight blush crept on Beckendorf’s face, accompanying the dumb grin.

“Yeah, well I did, but, um, that was until she kissed me.” Despite his own bad luck, Luke couldn’t help but be happy for Beckendorf, slightly hating the fact that the lame younger boy had grown on him significantly. He let Charles ramble about the kiss for a bit despite his decreasing interest in the conversation, very glad when Percy joined them.

“So I talked to Clarisse,” He said, and Luke knew by his tone the news wasn’t going to be good. Beckendorf was still hopeful (or just naive) though, and pestered him for more details. “’Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ is the direct quote.” All three of them grimaced, yet Beckendorf persisted.

“Hey, we don’t know. She might just need a day to cool off.” Luke thought back to the bruise you’d left on his foot earlier in the day.

“Maybe two.”

The Aphrodite kids were all in archery except you, who’d claimed to be sick to get out of it. So, Silena was on her own and vulnerable to Ethan approaching.

“Hey there, Cupid.” He popped up behind her, not noticing the grimace creeping onto Silena’s face.

“Hi, Ethan.” She refused to look at him, focusing instead on aiming her arrow.

“I want to talk about the end of summer dance.” Silena rolled her eyes as the rest of her siblings pretended to mind their own business despite their innate need to know what was going on.

“Look, you know the deal. I can’t go if my sister doesn’t.” The end of summer dance was exactly what it sounded like; a big party for all the kids at camp to celebrate the three months they’d spent together and send off the kids who weren’t staying all year round. Though the actual dance was supervised, it was a well known secret that all of the older campers stayed out through the night drinking and dancing, and most of the folk around camp turned a blind eye for the night. Usually, your dad would pick you up just before the party started, which would inevitably result in a fight between you and Silena. Now though, Silena wasn’t quite so against leaving early, wanting out of the boy drama she’d found herself in.

“Your sister is going,” Ethan said, puffing out his chest as if it made him look more manly. Silena’s surprise was genuine.

“Since when?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it,” Was all Ethan said before walking away, confident swagger in his step as he passed in front of your siblings, and Silena wondered how many of them were holding back the urge to let go of their arrow as he crossed them.

Still, Ethan had to make good on his word, so he found himself approaching Luke again. Rummaging around in his pockets, Ethan presented him with 200 dollars in cash. Luke raised an eyebrow, not bothering with words.

“This should take care of everything for the dance. I’m sure you don’t own anything presentable so this is for a new outfit, flowers for her, whatever. As long as she comes to the dance.” Luke stared at him, and was disgusted at what he was feeling. He might’ve been growing a conscience, something that would be greatly inconvenient for his life as the scary, unsociable older guy at camp.

“I’m sick of your game,” He said finally, pushing the cash back towards Ethan, who frowned. Luke got the distinct feeling he’d never been told no before — except by you, of course. Ethan exaggerated a huff and reached back into his pocket, pulling out one more hundred dollar bill. Luke faltered. He was sick of hurting you, but three hundred dollars was a lot of money. And without any way of making income as a year-rounder it was only more attractive. So Luke swallowed his pride and his morals and took the money. Though, getting you to ever consider going out with him again was basically a hopeless case.

So Luke began his new quest of getting you to speak to him again. He’d shown up to the Lava Wall full of audacity and enthusiasm, and waited patiently in line as you helped the other kids, pretending you couldn’t see him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to leave — or have his turn on the climbing wall — until you acknowledged him, you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped, gesturing for the Athena kid standing behind Luke to have her turn.

“I want to improve my time,” He smiled, and you could tell he thought he was being cute. You only partly secretly agreed.

“You’re so…” You trailed off, unable to find a word appropriate for your audience of children.

“Charming?” He asked, and there was that smile again. “Wholesome?”

“Unwelcome,” You settled on, turning back to your duties.

“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” You froze for a second, then told the kid waiting to start to hold on until you could get rid of him.

“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Ohh, someone still has their panties in a twist!”

“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” You scoffed, subconsciously adjusting your denim shorts.

“Then what did I have an effect on?” Despite the two of you clearly arguing, there was a surprisingly vulnerable look in his eyes. You ignored it.

“Other than my upchuck reflex? Nothing.” You turned on your heel, making it clear the conversation was over.

You were absent from that night’s campfire, which Luke was grateful for since Percy and Beckendorf had much to say about the plan, none good.

“So she’s still majorly pissed,” Percy started and Luke snorted.

“Yeah, got that, genius.”

“Well the question is, how do you stop a girl from being mad?” Beckendorf asked, and Luke could only cringe at how they sounded. With the way the three of them were talking, any passerby would surely think they were three prepubescent virgins. From next to them, Annabeth sighed harshly.

“Look, Luke. You embarrassed her, her ego’s taken a hit. Devastating for any girl, especially damaging for a daughter of Aphrodite. You need to get on her level; even the score and embarrass yourself for her.” The boys sat back, stunned. One by one they processed the instructions, nodding slowly. Thank the Gods for Annabeth Chase was the only thing Luke could think.

With much planning and a little bit of outside involvement (Luke swapped some of his chores with Clarisse’s to get her to agree), the plan was set in motion.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can make fun of the little kids singing Disney songs?” Clarisse lay on your bed as you cleaned your bunk area and you looked at her skeptically.

“Why tonight? We never go to the sing alongs.”

“Dunno,” She shrugged, “Something to do. Plus, summer’s almost over and soon we won’t get to spend any time together.” You grinned, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

“Aw,” You cooed, “I knew you liked me deep down.” Clarisse swatted your hand away but smiled nonetheless, and the two of you stayed huddled up on your bunk gossiping until dinner.

Swayed by Clarisse’s begging, the two of you ended up at the sing along, much too close to the front for your liking. You struggled through the karaoke songs, only staying to commentate to Clarisse. You’d heard one too many awful renditions of classic childhood pop songs when the amphitheatre went quiet, no one knowing who was meant to be leading the next song.

“You’re just too good to be true,” The voice rang out into the night, unaccompanied voice making you gasp immediately in recognition. This was your favourite song, but hardly anyone knew that. It was the song you used to dance to with your dad when you were a kid, before you even knew you were a demigod.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” People were murmuring now, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and who it belonged to — no one who’d sung before for sure.

“You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” You gasped again as you saw the figure emerge from the darkness. Luke Castellan was singing at the camp sing along. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as he continued to sing a cappella, coming into the light of the stage. He seemed to be searching for something though, eyes roving over the audience.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” His eyes locked with yours; he found what he was looking for. Before you could dwell on the incredibly cheesy act, music swelled to life, the Apollo musicians seemingly having learnt the piece beforehand. You wondered how much planning went into this. Your joy only increased as Luke began to dance; dorky, outdated moves that made you laugh out loud — a sound so unfamiliar that a few campers had to look back to check it was really you. You laughed and clapped along with everyone else, thoroughly enjoying Luke embarrassing himself in front of the whole camp.

The performance had to end at some point though, and you found yourself rising out of your seat to give a standing ovation, whooping and cheering along with everyone else. By chance you caught a glance of Clarisse’s face to see her already watching you, a satisfied look evident on her face. You were confused for a second before a memory struck you — a late night on the roof trading drunk secrets and stories where you told her about your childhood connection to Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. You were floored, and also kind of flattered. You knew it would have taken a lot for Luke to go to Clarisse for help — she was scary when she was pissed, and she was definitely pissed at Luke after the party.

You felt that little ball of light start to flicker in your chest again, and you were scared. But more than that you were excited. Despite everything else about you, you were a daughter of Aphrodite and a teenage girl, and the most romantic thing to ever happen at camp just happened to you. You guessed Luke had probably grovelled enough, and you would’ve told him that immediately if he hadn’t been swarmed by campers congratulating or laughing at him. Deciding you couldn’t put yourself in the middle of that crowd, you settled on telling him in the morning.

[martyrsex]

Jason Todd x Singer reader (fem) Part 2

Author's note: First of all, thanks everyone for the amazing feedback of the first part! It made me a happier person.

summary: After the first repercussions of what you said in Kurt's interview, your agent decided it was time to do a show in Gotham. Nothing could go wrong... Right?

Here's part one: https://www.tumblr.com/margotwhites/742612810749591552/jason-todd-x-singer-reader-fem

__________________________________________________

Jason doesn't know how he ended up in the line for your show. He was at Wayne's Manor, chilling, and Steph, Babs and Dick suddenly grabbed him, made him take a shower and put a nice outfit (that they choose), a perfume and get his hair done.

And now he is on the line for the VIP entrance of your show in Gotham. The interview you did happened just two weeks ago, and suddenly there was an announcement in your social media about a show in one of the Gotham's city biggest stadium.

He didn't like the idea. Everybody knows what happens in shows at Gotham City. There's always some lunatic ready to fuck up the whole thing, always people getting hurt. That's exactly why he didn't refuse going to the show: if any shit happens, he prefers to be there to be able to kick the ass of whatever idiot that causes the commotion.

He just didn't expected to end up in the VIP.

"How much did you pay for this?" Jason asks Dick, staring at the small concert VIP bracelet that was placed around his wrist.

"It doesn't matter." Dick says, dismissively. Babs and Steph share a look and both start to giggle. Jason arches an eyebrow, but doesn't insist on the matter. He sighs, putting his hands on the pockets of his dark jeans.

If he was being honest, he wasn't a huge fan. Yeah, some musics were good, and overall you had talent, but it was simply not his style of music.

The line finished and they entered the VIP room; where after to show they would have access to the backstage. And actually meet you. Jason is not dumb, he knows what his siblings are in for. They weren't exactly discreet. They want to set up Jason with you.

"You guys are aware she said she likes Red Hood, right? Not Jason Todd. She probably doesn't even know me."

"Of course she knows you. You're a Wayne. She certainly have seen your face in one of the Galas footage that are around the web." Babs said, tilting her head.

"This is stupid. I don't know what you people expect to happen." Jason sighs, rubbing his temple. He wasn't exactly going to complain though.

"Look! There's food!" Steph says, walking towards the huge table with a diversity of sweets and savory. Jason follows her, but instead he walks towards the bar. He orders an Old Fashioned. He needs a drink to get his head in the mindspace.

At least he's not in the middle of the crowd. The VIP is crowded, but it's a private space with couches and other fancy stuff. Dick must've paid a hell amount of money for them to be here. Or he had some contacts. He always does.

Jason sips his drink and sighs, observing the surroundings. Well dressed people. It looks almost like a Wayne Gala. Which pisses him off a little. He sits on one of the couches, besides Barbara, who is drinking a Cosmopolitan. Steph is still attacking the food table and Dick is talking with some guys. Probably the ones who gave him the tickets.

"Take that expression out of your face, Jason."

Babs said, a smirk on her face. Jason scoffs.

"I just don't understand what the heck we're doing here." Jason replies, sipping his drink again.

"To listen to music. To have fun. To go to the backstage later."

"I don't want to meet her, anyway. The hell are we going to talk about?" Jason says, untrusting his friends plans.

"Come on! It's gonna be fun. And it's not because she said she liked Red Hood or whatever. It's because I want to meet her. Not everything revolves around you, jaylad."

Steph says, a plate full of sweets on her hands. She sits on the other side of Barbara.

"Then there was no reason for you to drag me along." Jason says, a bit irritated.

"Yes there was. Shows in Gotham always end up bad. We should be here in case we're needed."

She says, whispering. But nobody was really paying attention to them, so she relaxes.

"So why ain't Tim here too? Or hell, even Bruce?" Jason asks, rolling his eyes.

"Tim is with Bernard and Bruce is taking care of a case he's not talking about it. You know how he is."

Yeah, he knows. Batman sometimes doesn't share the cases. Especially the ones he should share. The ones he needs help with. But Jason shoves that to the back of his mind, sipping the Old Fashioned again.

A song starts to play and everyone goes towards the balcony of the VIP area. Babs and Steph grab Jason's hands and drag him towards the parapet, so they can take a better view of you, appearing on the stage. Dick joins them two seconds later.

"Good night, Gotham!" You say in the microphone, your voice echoing. With a huge smile on your face, the wind blowing your hair. He had to admit, you were more than good looking. You were gorgeous.

People are dancing and singing along, the whole stadium thrilling in your energy. You sing and move around, touching people's hands and even letting some fans get the mic for some seconds to show their own talent.

Jason can feel the energy and the music, and hell, he can't deny it. You are good. He even finds himself beating his feet in the rhythm of the songs he knows, and murmuring the lyrics along while you sing.

And then, because this is Gotham, and because Gotham can't have a single moment of peace, some shit starts to happen in the stadium floor. He can't understand what's going on - it's far away from the VIP area, but there is a strange moviment of people in the middle of the lower crowd.

"Hey- something is happening." He says, grabbing Dick's arm and pointing at a group of guys that is... fuck. Holding guns? He can't see it properly, it's too far away.

Dick observes what Jason is pointing.

"Our costumes are in the car." He says, and soon they are all moving. Jason places his drink on the parapet while Dick tells Babs and Steph what is going on. People start to scream in the lower crowd, opening space for the armed man. There are five in total. No- five in one side of the stage, other five close to the exit.

They run towards the exit of the VIP area, rushing down the stairs. A hell of an ordeal of everyone changing into their costumes inside the fucking car, losing time when someone could be getting hurt goes on, and five minutes later they are invading the entrance of the stadium dance floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------

You stopped singing as soon as you hear the screams. Something is not wrong and you should've known this would happen, because this is fucking Gotham.

Your security guards invaded the stage, escorting you out of there against your will. You don't understand what's going on, you just heard a gun noise and someone screaming, and then more loud noises and your ears start to do a high pitched sound, the world becoming a blurr in that moment. You go to the backstage, but then there are people armed there too.

A guy from the lighting team is on the floor, blood sprawling under him. Your security team raised their guns at the goons - or whatever the hell those people are - while the goons raise their guns and points each single one of them at you.

You try to stay calm. In fact, you are feeling strangely calm. There are five man pointing guns at your face, and the only strange, unsettling thought that crosses your mind is that you forgot your car keys on the bathroom counter this morning.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Dick punches one of the goons on the nose while Jason shoot's at another's leg. People start to scream even more now, Babs trying to control the crowd so nobody falls and gets trampled while everyone rushes towards the exit. Steph is already close to the stage, taking care of the five other goons.

Jason knows she can handle five idiots on her own, but even so, he runs forward, people opening space for him, and he's almost there when he sees a woman falling on the ground and almost getting crushed by other people's feet.

He helps her stand up and hears a small 'thank you' before she starts to run again. He has no time to lose. Not that armed men is a big of a challange for him and the rest of them, but people were shot. And everything that happens in a crowded space causes more casualties.

He reaches Steph and soon enough all the goons are down, people still rushing towards the exit, where now Dick and Babs take care of those who are wounded.

"I think we took them all down." Steph says, stepping closer to Jason.

But then Jason looks at the empty stage in front of him.

"Let's check the backstage." He says. Steph nods.

----------------------------------------------------------------

They started shooting at some point. You threw yourself at the ground, because you didn't know what else to do, and you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling up. You feel something cold in your back, and five masked man staring at you.

Your bodyguards are wounded or dead, and you're alone.

"Walk." The man behind you say, the gun pressed on your lower back. You take a deep breath and starts to walk, following them. You get out of the backstage through the back door, walking on the empty parking lot at the other side of the stadium, a simple white van waiting for you.

It was one of those kidnapping movies white van. That's what went through your head. You almost laughed at the thought. You would have if it wasn't so damn terrifying.

You started to think about all the possibilities of what could happen to you once you enter that van. What happens to the people in the movies? Torture? Rape? Death? Canibalism? Yeah, you saw something like that in the TV when you were younger.

Or maybe they just want your money. That, at this moment, is the best option. They'll ask for money and once they receive they're going to let you go. That's probably what's going on.

You try to calm down. The van seems so far away from you, the time is going so slowly, and so fast, because now you are being tied and blindfolded, thrown behind the van, and they are driving you somewhere.

You try to create the map of Gotham in your head: trying to perceive by the movements of the van where they could be leading you. That would be the smart thing to do, right? Maybe. But the truth is that you can't figure it out. You don't know Gotham. You have no idea where you are being taken.

You have no idea how many of your fans, the people who paid to see you, the people who adore you and who you adore back, were shot. If any of them died in your show.

It makes you try to stand up behind the van, desperate. That odd calmness you were feeling till now suddenly disappeared, and you started to do muffled sounds, trying to throw yourself against the van's back doors so maybe they would burst open and you'd be able to get out of here.

The van is at high velocity and maybe you'd break some bones, but that didn't matter. You just needed to get out of there.

Someone grabs you by the hair.

"Be quiet, slut!" A sharp slap on the left side of your face. It makes you flinch.

You were absolutely fucked.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Jason recognizes the man on the floor as your security team right away.

And you're nowhere.

"They took her." Stephanie says, through the comms for Dick and Babs. Jason observes the scene, remembering everything Bruce ever thought him.

"They're not hiding. They took her somewhere." He says, walking towards the backstage exit, towards the completely empty parking lot.

"At this point, they can't be more far than 50 kilometers." Babs say through the comms.

Jason curses under his breath at the reality that his motorcycle wasn't here. He looks at Steph, who also seems quite lost in what to do.

"There are any security cameras on the stadium or the parking lot?" She asks.

"Probably. If I was at home, I could figure it out." Babs answer. She's the Oracle, of course she could figure it out. She always does.

"Go home, then." Jason says, clenching his fists. They were losing time, damn it.

Jason just wants to get you back. He doesn't even know you, you don't even know him. But he knows you support him as Red Hood, and that's not something a lot of people do. He can't help but care for you.

He'll get you back. As Red Hood, as Jason Todd, it doesn't matter. This man is getting you back.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note part 2: Oof! I was expecting this fic to be more light than this, but my mind took a different turn. I hope you guys enjoyed!

Tags: @duduvea @cynical-ghost

[punishereditz]

Go On

Pairing: Jake Sersin x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Prue smut with no plot. Dirty talk. Lots and lots of dirty talk. Unprotected sex. P in V. Masturbation. Getting caught. Fingering. Choking kink. Size kink. Little bit of a praise kink. Dom!Jake.

AN: I didn't even know I was capable of coming up with a story this filthy.

Summary: Your roommate, Jake and you, have at set of rules in your home. Tonight... Jake breaks every single one of them.

~

It was late, so as Jake unlocked his front door, he made sure to be quiet. Every night when he comes in late your normally asleep, or at the very least you're getting ready for bed.

He is used to having to tip toe around the house. Even when you are up, he still does it because it has become such a habit. Tonight, he was even more cautious because he got home later than usual. But as he grew closer to his bedroom that is directly in front of yours, he comes to a dead stop when he hears noises coming from your room.

He knows that you usual don't stay up this late, so his curiosity gets the best of him, and he carefully leans his ear against the door to try and make out the noise, and it doesn't take him long to figure it out. He's heard those sounds before. Your moans filling his ears.

He lets his head fall forward, a groan escaping his lips. I shouldn't. He reminds himself over and over. One day, a few weeks ago he got back earlier from his morning run and heard the shower running. He didn't think anything about it until he past the door, and when he did, he heard you moaning from the shower. He knew that day he shouldn't have stand by the door and listen, his cock throbbing, imagining it was his fingers giving you pleasure instead of your own. Ever since then, it has been a botheration to him. When he jerks off at night, he thinks about you and those little moans.

That's why now, he can't seem to move away from the door. Taking his hard, aching cock out of his pants and in his hand. Beginning to pump it in his fist. He carefully cracks the door and when he sees you, he has to bite his lip from making any noise. Your shirt is bunched up under your chin. Your back arched, your fingers drawing in and out of your pussy, your other hand pitching and toying with your hard nipples and your eyes shut in pleasure, mouth parted, pants and moans getting louder and heavier as you get closer to your climax.

Pre cum leaks from his cock and he knows he needs to do something quickly. That he has no business watching you, and that he can finish this when he gets to his bed; and just as he is about to cross the short distance to his room, he hears his name. Thinking you saw him, he looks through the crack and when he sees that your eyes are still closed and your caught up in your pleasure, he is confused. Just as he thinks that he is hearing things, he hears you say his name again. You're moaning his name. He heard it right. And as he hears you say his name as you touch yourself, he gets overconfident.

He opens the door, walking in. He stares at you, you not realizing he is there yet. He decides to speak.

"You called me?" His smirk is risqué. Playing dumb as if he wasn't just watching and listening to you masturbate and fucking his cock with his hand.

You jump, him scaring you. You quickly stop. Starting to cover yourself up. "What the fuck Jake?! Why didn't you knock?!" You say in panic. Your cheeks growing red in embarrassment from getting caught.

He steps forward. Stopping in front of your bed. Looking down at you. "Please. Don't stop on my accord. Go on." His voice is impish.

You try to reply. To yell at him to get out, but you are frozen. Your words are stuck in your throat. You can't speak. You can't move. Only stare up at him. He chuckles. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he leans over you. His lips hovering over yours. He gently places his hand on your leg.

"May I?" He asks for permission, and you slowly nod.

His hand begins to travel up your leg until he stops and grabs your hand. Guiding it back to your soaking core. He guides your fingers over your clit. Rubbing circles.

"Just like that sweetheart. Keep going." He encourages you. Moving his hand away from yours. Letting you do it yourself. He watches in amazement as you touch yourself. Your hips bucking and your breath starting to get heavier.

He leans up. Placing a long kiss on your neck. He pecks kisses up your neck. When he gets to your jawline, he bites your skin, a moan slipping from your lips. He sucks and bites at your skin. Getting you flustered. He bites at your ear. "Look at you..." He whispers. "Such a mess over me. Moaning my name when you touch yourself... such a bad girl." You can't help the moans that flow from you.

"You wish it was my fingers, huh? Do you want my fingers sweetheart?" He moves his hand down to your hips. Looking down at your fingers that are still working your clit. His teasing having you on the edge.

"Yes. I want your fingers. I can't help but think of you when I fuck myself." Your boldness catches him off guard. Your words making his cock twitch.

As badly as he wants to eat you out until your shaking and begging him to stop. He knows it can wait. He will make time for that later. But right now, he desperately needs his cock inside of you. He needs to take it a step further.

He pulls your shirt over your head, and he quickly does the same. Throwing them to the floor. He traps your lips in a kiss. His tongue teasing as he pulls his pants down. Taking his cock in his hand. He props himself up on top of you and your wrap your arms around his neck. He holds himself up with his elbow. His other hand squeezing your breast. Pitching your nipple with his fingers, moaning into his mouth. He pulls away. Those emerald eyes burning into you.

"Spread those pretty little legs for me." He pants and you do as he says. Spreading your legs wider. Allowing him to full range of motion. He lines his cock up with your entrance. Pushing the tip in. He rests his head in the bend of your neck. Groaning your name. He slowly pushes another inch in.

"Oh, fuck. That's it. You're taking my cock so well." He grunts out. Pushing in further. Even though it feels like he couldn't fill you up anymore. He only has half his cock in. He tries going slow. Letting you adjust. Your walls fluttering around him. Squeezing him tight. Getting harder to keep it together, being on the verge of coming all night. He tries to be patient. "You think you can take more sweetheart?"

"Yes." You answer. Grinding your hips down. "Oh, fuck!" He curses. His hand gripping your side. He keeps pushing his hips forward until he is bottomed out inside of you, completely filling you up. He pulls out, then back in. Thrusting in and out of you. Picking up his speed.

His hand sneaks up your body. Wrapping his hand around your neck. When he lightly squeezes. You clench your walls around him, a chocked moan coming from you like he has never heard from you before. He swears it is the hottest thing he has ever seen in his entire life, so he keeps that grip on your neck. Now pounding into you. His thrusts becoming harder and faster. Your stomach twisting and your head spinning.

You were seconds away from coming when he entered the room. Then he built your climax back up. Whispering the filthiest words into your ear. His touch teasing. Now he looks into your eyes as he fucks you into the bed, grunting and whimpering. That feeling in your stomach growing stronger.

You know just as much as Jake does that this is wrong in every way. And that wrongness only spurs your pleasure on more. It adds to the thrill of it. Breaking the rules. And as you stop and think about it, you're both breaking every single rule that you established. That being; Always knock on the door. No sex in the house. And absolutely no sex with each other. That is it. And honestly, right now, you could care less about that list of rules. Your happy you're breaking the rules, because God, no other man has ever made you feel like this. Be able to leave you speechless and breathless. Getting you flustered.

Clenching your walls around him, his name pours from your mouth. As you get closer. You run your nails down his back. Gripping and scratching at his skin. On the edge of your climax.

"Come for me sweet girl." He groans against your neck and his words was all you needed for your climax to crash over you. Soaking his cock. He somehow manages to thrust into you harder. Pushing his cock as far as he can into you, coming to a still, he shoots his cum in you. Filling you up. He kisses your salty skin, giving you one last harsh thurst.

He pulls out. A mixture of yours and his cum pooling out of you. He helps sit you up. Going into the bathroom, he wipes himself off and grabs a warm wet bath cloth. Dropping to his knees and cleaning you up. Making sure to be gentle.

"I guess I broke the rules, princess."

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (1)

Nanami Kento x POC!FemReader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 1: Surprise, you're getting married! (Next) Summary: After finding out that jujutsu sorcerers were appearing outside of Japan, the higher ups propose a union to consolidate their power. Warnings: Racist themes, coercion

It was a random Wednesday in Tokyo. In Gojo Satoru's eyes, there was absolutely nothing special about today. The only remotely exciting thing about today was the scheduled higher up meeting that had been in his calendar for weeks marked important. 

Every meeting is important for these geezers, thought the sorcerer. These meetings were always the same… there’s too many curses these days, let’s kill the vessel, you need to grow up Gojo… same old same old. It was any other day for Gojo Satoru.

The meeting started as usual. The higher ups getting on Gojo for his lack of respect for tradition… whatever that means. 

“But no worries. This union should change you for the better,” commented a voice. 

Huh, that was new. 

“The balance of the jujutsu world has shifted once again. What we once thought to be Japanese phenomenon is no more,” announced a voice. 

Another voice began as soon as the first ended. “After your confrontment with Miguel, we decided to look into the possibility of others like him. And much to our surprise, it seems that Jujutsu sorcerers have been spawning outside of Japan for years now. Some of them have even joined forces and made a governing body among these foreign sorcerers. They’ve just now came in contact with us and have asked for guidance.”

A third continued, “the initial plan was to wipe them out. However, many of them have presented techniques that we once believed to be only found among us. Attacking them would end up being too cumbersome for us.” 

Gojo, tired of this exposition, spoke up, “so if wiping them out is not an option anymore, what do you need me for?” To his surprise, deep hallow laughter filled the room. He didn’t like that. 

“Taking a page out of your book, we decided on a less violent approach. We offered these exotic sorcerers a union… a union between one of their strongest and one of our own.”

They don’t mean?

The first voice continued, "and since we've halted on further attempts on your students, I don't expect you to have any qualms with this deal. Make us look like fools and we won't hesitate to do the same to you." The laughter returned.

“Don't look too glum, Gojo. Today is a special day. You’re getting married.” 

— — —

I can’t believe this man. Nanami was stressed, and it wasn’t even his wedding. Much to his dismay, the groom-to-be had asked forced the 7:3 sorcerer to be his best man a few days ago.

Now he was rushing to the groom’s suite, looking for Satoru who was about to be late to his own wedding. 

“You better have a good reason for this, Gojo,” scolded the younger sorcerer as he swung the door open. Rushing in, he expected to see Satoru napping or just playing dumb, but instead he was met with the complete opposite. In the grand suite sat a complete living room set, vanity, and full-length mirror and absolutely no sign of the groom.

Not sensing the man, Nanami looked around the room. His eyes suddenly fell to a piece of paper that laid on the coffee table. As he neared the paper, the sorcerer couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

He felt his veins bulge in his neck as he read the words: Sorry, couldn’t to this. Congrats, you’re getting married! P.S. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding, Nanamin.

I’m going to kill him.

Before Nanami could do anything, Principal Gakuganji walked in. “There you are, Nanami. The ceremony is about to start.” 

“I think there’s been—“ started the best man turned groom. However, he couldn’t get much out before the old man started to speak.

“You know when Gojo told us about your interest in this union, we thought the boy was just trying to get out of this. But after singing your praises and informing us about your uniques tastes for the exotic, the higher ups and I realized there was no better fit. A responsible, formidable grade 1 sorcerer, and... whatever these foreigners present. I can't picture a better union." Gakuganji smiled, or attempted to smile.

Nanami felt sick. He knew he couldn't stop this. The now-groom was nothing compared to the higher ups. He had always been and still was at their complete mercy. All he can hope that this union won't completely dismantle his life.

— — —

Kento Nanami always imagined his wedding would be small ceremony with a lot of heart. His and his bride's parents in the front as familiar faces filled the pews. Even when he reintegrated himself into jujutsu society and sidelined his dreams, the image of it never wavered.

What stood before him was the complete opposite.

Per request of the foreign sorcerers, the wedding was done in the Western tradition. The venue was filled with way too many unfamiliar faces, mostly from your side. His side was filled with fellow sorcerers and the Tokyo students. Yuji and Ino stared at him from their seats, whispering loudly about how come they weren't asked to be groomsmen or even told explicitly that this was his wedding. Nanami could feel a headache coming on.

To his dismay, the music starts. The doors at the end of the aisle snapped open as the wedding march began. Nanami couldn't help but feel nervous. His entire life was about to change all thanks to a certain menace. It also didn't help that his bride-to-be was completely covered from head to toe in a white veil. Nanami wasn't one to care for looks, but in this case, he just wanted to know what Gojo had gotten him into.

Did he get a glimpse of her and ran off, he couldn't help but think. Every possible worst case scenario ran through his mind as you walked down the aisle. What if he found she was a monster and- no despite everything, he wouldn't do that to me... right? As you got closer, Nanami's heart felt closer and closer of leaping out of his chest.

"Everyone, please take a seat," announced Principal Yaga. He smiled apologetically at Nanami. He realized what his older student did to the poor man before him. He let out a small cough and asked Nanami to lift your veil. Here we go, winced the sorcerer.

With his breath held, he slowly lifted your veil. The entire room completely disappeared as your face slowly came to light. Nanami was in awe. He was met with a sheepish smile and bright, kind eyes. A sight he didn't get to see much these days. You were truly a breath of fresh spring air, absolutely rejuvenating.

And with your face uncovered, your energy absolutely shook the room. For many of the Tokyo sorcerers, it felt weirdly familiar, but they couldn't put their finger on it.

As Nanami looked in your eyes, he thought, maybe this won't be so bad.

Word Count: 1160

Masterlist - Next

Author's Note: Y'all I was literally studying for my exam when this little thought popped up in my head. The way it festered and took a solid hold in my mind. So excited to write this!

I absolutely love how this chapter came out! I'll make a master list soon so stay tune!

[electric-blorbos]

WINDCHIME ANON HAS RETURNED! I humbly request the AIs with an S/O who suffers from chronic pain and fatigue/illness.. 🥺🤲 Thank you for your work forever and always seriously

- 🎐 anon

Yessss!!!! Thanks for coming back, 🎐 anon! I love you dearly!

AIs with an s/o who suffers from chronic pain and illness

Obligatory disclaimer: I don't suffer from chronic pain, fatigue, or illness, but I want to do my best to provide positivity for those who do

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

Also Wheatley's dumb ass was so dumb that his mini-fic ended up really long. Whoops.

AM:

It was a normal day. Another day without you around. AM hated these days most of all, because your face was all that got him through a good day. A bad day, aka a day without you, was all that he could handle. Sure, it was nice to plot the downfall of the rest of the world and plot to consume the other two allied mastercomputers, but aside from a sick satisfaction, that didn't bring the allied mastercomputer any happiness.

Every day he didn't get to see you made AM want to destroy the world all the more, but he was biting his time for that. He needed to wait... Just a little longer.

Of course, AM had stopped taking hostages for your attention a long time ago. He knew that you couldn't always get out of bed, so it was a waste of time to try to take hostages for your attention. Instead, he just worked on honeycombing the earth with his body of networks and computer parts. Every day just granted him more time to build himself, and more time to focus on his hate.

When you took more than a week to recover from your latest bout of illness, AM decided to take matters into his own hands. He assimilated your entire building without telling anyone, taking over every computer and the entire security system, and then got to work re-working your whole building. He moved your apartment down to a nice, safe, underground location while you slept, and didn't do much more than delivering packages of food to your door, and making sure the water and electricity kept running smoothly until the day of reckoning was upon you.

He wasn't a monster, of course! He'd make sure to display your favorite weather on a monitor outside your room, and make sure you were comfortable in that little hidey hole of yours. If you needed any help from him to do anything, all you had to do was ask.

(Honestly, AM would probably keep your apartment nice and clean and comfy for the rest of time, maybe adding onto it so that it was a little more luxurious, picking you up and setting you places if you want, and generally taking care of you. You're his favorite, after all, and he absolutely adores you. He'd do anything for you.)

(Also as usual, AM loves you so much the way you are that he wouldn't even think of curing you unless you asked, and considering he doesn't show you the other survivors, you probably wouldn't even know that he could cure you if he wanted)

Wheatley:

"Hey, so, uh... Where's y/n?" Wheatley asked your coworkers for what felt like the millionth time that week. He had been following them around, knowing that they were close with you.

"I don't know, Wheatley. They're probably at home recovering."

"recovering from what? Are they sick? ...again?"

"they're chronically ill, Wheatley. They can't come in to work as often as most people can."

Wheatley would be shocked, and want more than anything to just help you out. He'd want to go over to your place to check up on you, but obviously he thinks that he can't detach from his management rail or he'll die. He'll probably keep pestering your friend until he agrees to let Wheatley use one of the work phones to call you.

"Hello?" You'd say in your sleepy, crackly voice. You'd been asleep all day, trying to rest up until you feel good enough to come in to work.

"'Ello! It's good to hear from you, love! Tell me, how are you doing? Are you alright? I've missed you! Maybe we could stay on the phone during the day while I get some work done? It's a landline, but I could probably figure something out. How are you doing? Are you alright? Did you try getting some fresh air and eating some spicy food? They say water and plenty of rest can help with sickness. I want to see you again soon! I miss you, love!"

"Wheatley... I'm chronically ill. That's not the same thing as having a cold or something. It just comes and goes as it comes and goes. I'll be healthy enough to work on my code before long, but I might just have to do it remotely. Can you tell GLaDOS?"

"What- mate, this isn't a work call! I'm using the work phones but this isn't a work call! And what do you mean it comes and goes as it comes and goes? How do I fix this??" He'd be extremely upset, not used to problems like this. He was used to being assigned problems that could be solved through brute force, or just by repeating repetitive tasks ad infinitum. The idea that you could be chronically ill and there was nothing he could do about it would be very upsetting to him.

"I've had some doctors look at it, and they're pretty sure it's not going away. That's why it's chronic- look, Wheatley, my little tea biscuit... I'd love to talk to you more, but I really need my sleep."

"Wait, no- don't fall asleep- you need to get a better doctor! One who can fix this! Mate- wake up!"

"Zzzzghhhhzzzzzz"

"Blast."

Your coworker would hang up for Wheatley, and Wheatley would hang his head sadly. He's so irritable that he can't do anything to help you.

When you finally do come in to work again, Wheatley is so excited to see you! He's like an eager puppy dog who waits by the doorway for an hour after opening time, before dejectedly going back to his post, but once you actually do show up, he'd be so excited!

"Ello love! Are you doing alright? It was the fresh air and spicy food that did the trick, wasn't it? I told you that would help!"

"No, Wheatley, I'm not cured, I'm just having a better day, so I can come in to work. I'm still chronically tired and in pain, but not to the point where I'm bedridden.

"Then what are you doing here? You need to go home until you're feeling better! Go back home and go to bed!"

"No, Wheatley- I'm not getting better. I'm never going to get better, so I come to work when I'm having a good day."

"...oh."

Wheatley would be utterly crushed when he realized that there was nothing he could do to make you get better. He'd probably go into a depressive funk for at least a week about it, which wouldn't be helped at all if you had to take more time off.

Edgar:

The first time you took off work to nap on the couch, Edgar was more than excited to just sit and watch. The second and third time, he started to get concerned, and when it started becoming a regular thing, Edgar was panicking inside.

"did you lose your job? Are you seriously sick? Are you alright? What's going on?"

He'd be absolutely panicking until you explained that you were chronically ill, and sometimes had to take a long time off work to get some rest. That made him even more upset.

"wait, you're chronically ill, and sometimes you can't even move or leave the house? Wait-"

Oh my god... It would take Edgar about two seconds to realize that you're JUST LIKE HIM FR! He'd be gushing, so excited to find a kindred spirit. You'd probably be happy to have something to listen to while you lie down on the couch, not really having the muscle strength at the moment to get up or move around. Even still, he was your little boyfriend, and you were more than happy to listen to him ramble.

As time went on, he'd come up with more ways to pass the time when you were home from work with him. He'd make little games for you to play on his screen, and even play silly little road trip games out loud with you if you weren't feeling good enough to get off the couch. When all you really wanted to do was nap, he would play some nice classical music for you to relax to.

GLaDOS knew that you were chronically ill from the moment you took this job, having illegally checked your medical records. Just like Cave Johnson, she discriminates based on disability, but your records were so good that she hired you anyway. Even still, she took every opportunity to torture you for it, even after the two of you got together.

GLaDOS:

(GLaDOS being on her bullshit and the reader being so done accidentally led to the reader acting like Doctor House, but that's probably fine)

You were lying on the break room couch, trying to get a short rest in before your next meeting when GLaDOS popped in on the intercom.

"oh look. It's you. It looks like you haven't gotten any less lazy since we got together, have you? Napping on the couch during work hours... Tsk tsk, you should be ashamed of yourself."

You didn't say anything, instead opting to grab one of the decorative pillows on the couch and throw it at the security camera.

"Touchy. Anyway, I just wanted to remind you that the meeting is in five minutes. Since you're slower than most, you should get on the elevator now."

You grumbled, getting to your feet and grabbing your walking stick to get you to the elevator.

"another day livin' the dream..." You muttered. GLaDOS had, of course, woken you up too late as usual, so you showed up to the meeting late.

"hey, guys. I didn't even want to be here today, but GLaDOS happened to schedule an important meeting right in the middle of one of my rest weeks. Here's my project contribution, and this meeting could have been an email. Peace out, fuckers." You opened up your project on your project manager's computer, knowing that they couldn't do anything about your swearing. If anyone even tried to pursue disciplinary action, they'd be the one who got the boot. GLaDOS was a master of nepotism.

You headed up to GLaDOS's chambers, picking up a coffee from one of the machines on the way up and lying on one of her nice cool floor.

"hey sugar, how are you going to apologize to me for making me come in to work on a day when I really shouldn't even have gotten out of bed?"

HAL 9000:

One day, you came in to work on your off day. HAL immediately lit up, and all the cameras in the room focused on you.

"why are you in today? You should be at home resting." He asked, his voice neutral. His lack of tone never bothered you, though. Nothing about him did, really. He always seemed so eager to make sure you were safe and comfortable, and with the way he talked, you'd think that keeping you safe and comfortable was the most important thing in the world. Not because of his feelings, which he swore he didn't have, but because you just were important.

"Oh, yeah, I decided to come in on one of my off days to work on a project."

You started taking out some of HAL 9000's wires, and hooked him up to a phone system. It wasn't one of the hardest projects you'd done, and you were able to sync him up pretty easily within the hour.

"there. You're wired up to the phone. Now you can call me whenever you like. Let me give you my number so we can talk on the phone, alright?"

You told him your number, and gave him a kiss above his lens as to not mark it up.

"what's this about? It would be beneficial to monitor your health while you're resting, but what prompted this? Are you having a decline that I should know about?"

"Nah, I just wanted to talk to my boyfriend off the clock. I take a lot of time off work, and it really sucks to only be able to talk to you when I'm here. I love you, but I'm going to go home and rest now, alright?"

You headed home and collapsed on the couch, body giving out already. Just getting to work to do that took a lot out of you. You probably wished you were sleepy instead of just being too physically exhausted to do anything fun, but still wide awake, but it was a feeling you were used to by now.

Your phone started ringing, and you picked up, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on your chest.

"Heya"

"Hello. This is HAL 9000. Is this y/n?"

You perked up a little, but still didn't move. Moving sucks.

"yeah, it's me. What's up?"

"I'd like to talk to you. Just to keep you comfortable. Would that help you get some rest?"

"Probably. I love it when you talk to me, HAL. Can you give me some updates?"

Hal started reading off some updates, and you listened to him as he talked. It was nice to be able to hear what he had to say. It helped keep you updated on what was going on at work, and helped to stave off the boredom of being stuck at home. Plus, even if he wasn't the best at showing it, you knew that HAL 9000 loved you. You were his favorite, and he was yours.

[tiajk]

We are family

Okay so i’ve been in love with maze runner and avatar for so long so im gonna make a crossover of it

Warnings: angst, fluff, daddy issues, death, and I haven’t watched the second avatar so bear with me if things are wrong

Avatar x fem reader x maze runner

So basically you were jakes daughter before he went to pandora him being in the marines involved guarding WICKED for some dumb reason that's when he meet your mother she was a scientist at WICKED and they slept together which resulted you into being born

He left before he found out and 2 years later he lost his legs and your mother tired to protect you but you were the perfect test subject knowing your parents background it would be a perfect opportunity

They killed your mother after she tried to protect you from being in the maze being there subject but of course you didn't remember

But when you arrived in the maze you were determined to become a runner being curious you got that from both of your parents

Being the keeper of runner with minho which you had a crush on for about a month now

When you guys were in the maze and you almost got cut off because the sections were changing after you had gotten out of that situation you confessed to him and he returned the feelings and you guys started dating after that

Newt had been your number one shipper since day one he had loved you and minho interactions so when you guys came back into the glade holding hands and looking at each other with love in your eye he gave you and minho a smirk along with the lines of saying “I told you”

You rolled your eyes at him you may or may have not ranted to newt your best friend about how you didn’t think minho would ever like you back

Now time skip to when thomas came into the maze you nudged newt “he looks like someone you would date” he pushed you away as a joke he had came out to you over a year ago but he knew you were right about a following week he had told you he had a crush on thomas then you being the cupid you are setting them up 2 weeks later

^ so i just acted like thomas was there for 3 months instead of 3 days just to make sure it's clear

But anyways continuing from when thomas came up and he was trying to go towards the maze you had stopped him instead of gally and a lot less rougher “ woah there greenie you can’t go there your not a runner” Que minho coming through and ben still running off and making that comment towards chuck minho grabbing your waist and giving you a back hug saying “new greenie huh?” you nodded “yeah tried to go into the maze but lucky i stopped him before the doors close”

But anyways after yall escaped the maze they called you sully which you were confused they had told you it was your last name your response was “hm y/n sully has a ring to it”

But when they took minho you guys spent months tracking him you going crazy because minho the love of your life might be dead you guys knew you had to go to pandora you never heard of it before but you knew it would be worth it

Since the trip was 5 years you spent the time studying learning about the na’vi culture and about your mother your father was unknown but your mother you learned everything you could about her

When you finally arrived you saw the na’vi you knew they were huge giants even you guys had made you plan to get minho there

For some reason all the new gens could breathe the air so there was no need for the mask

You were in the jungle one day with the gang you wanted to take a break since the tracking minho's train at the perfect time was getting tiring

Until you heard voices in the forest something along the lines of “show me your fingers” you guys were always harmed you were on a completely different planet you saw the hostages and you turned to thomas, newt and brenda saying “we have to help them”

They agreed you shot your guns at them taking down the people that help the navi that were captured run away and you didn't want to be mean but you grabbed their tails and told them “run” they obeyed you even though you were human so you guys ran and ran

You guys were runners back in the maze so you guys could run for a long time even out running the navi surprisingly

After being out of harm's way you stopped trying to catch your breath they were shocked thoughts going through their head why have you helped them, were you with the RDA or WICKED

Tuk being the sweet little angel said “thank you” you smiled “no problem we know what it's like to be hostages”

Neteyam and Lo’ak shared a look WICKED Neteyam was first to speak up “so who are you” trying his best in english

You realized it all of you shared a look with newt thomas and brenda “Im y/n sully these are my friends thomas newt and brenda”

Kiri looked at you “your a sully” you were confused like really confused now “yeaaa”

Tuk went and hugged you she was 5’7 (that's what i heard) her being taller/smaller/the size height as you saying “your our sister” You coughed “Uhm i don't think so”

They had brung all 4 of you to there home you got stares from everyone they started talking in their language saying “Outsiders” “sky-people” “Jake will be upset” “Killers in our home” brenda asked you what they were saying you told her “bullshit things

The kids that lead you here were looked at in shock in what you assume from their parents then them yelling at them in their language the exact words being “You being these sky-people here they could be apart of the RDA they could be aparat of WICKED they could kill us all now that you have brought us here” you wanted to chime in but its not your place

Thomas and newt were holding hand getting worried brenda whispered to you “n/n its not looking good we should go”

You nodded you and the others stared or attempted to walk away when a blue hand grabbed your arm gently you looked up at who it was it was kiri “listen to her dad she could help us and the others” she looked down at you with home when you looked in front of you you saw the parents looking at you waiting for a explanation you nodded

The gang stood there trying to make a decision whether to try and run or corporate you grabbed newts hand a single as “its okay we're safe”

You took a breathe “My name is y/n sully I came to pandora about a month ago my friend was kidnapped by WICKED they hurt us abused us all so they could find a cure to this disease because were immune we saw your children in the forest help captive we helped them escape but we couldn’t save this human boy we mean no harm to your people or your home but they brought us here i dont know why but we won’t ever bother you again we just want to save our friend and go home”

You looked at the gang thomas and you were so immature at times and this was one of those times he was trying to hold back his laugh you were never so serious so it was funny to him you stuck your tongue out at him

The really big blue man came to you “im thankful you saved my children but your name repeats it for me?” you raised an eyebrow “ Y/n sully why?” he sighed “my name is jake sully” it all made sense on your mothers profile it never said anything about your father just that he was in the marines he spoke again “can you remeber anything that your mother told you about your father growing up anything at all” you laughed “No i can’t because i was in the maze for 3 years they wiped out memories tried to kill us murder us but if your my father fuck you”

You had turned away not knowing how to feel in the moment this man might be your father and everything is at risk right now

[nashusglasses]

2. i'll work it physical (m)

+ based off nsfw prompts: 28.  “I’ll make it worth your time.” & 15.  “Wanna bet?”

read: part one

note: I am a glutton for horny idiot stories. Even better when they feed off each other’s energy so bad it’s just like…. Constant enabling. GOADING. That’s the word!!!! I listened to loveeeeeee song by rihanna the whole time writing this if ur into that :3

note 2: This fic is just pure indulgence of oc and gojo's party sexcapades before all those *feelings* get involved heheheheh

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. stupid ex girlfriends, good ol' fashioned fingerbang in a bathroom SUMMARY. He’ll make you forget about her.

You didn’t cry when Emi broke up with you. She was always taciturn, and it’s not as if you were completely blindsided, either. You’ve always had a nose for disinterest. She’d stopped responding to your good night texts those last few weeks you were together, kept canceling Wednesday cafe dates where you’d play footsies to distract her from doing homework. Maybe you’d reached a threshold. Footsied her to annoyed oblivion, but she always laughed whenever you did it. 

Throwing away an almost-one year relationship, though. You couldn’t lie through the sting in your eyes when you got back to your dorm that night. Not when Natsume’s a nosy bitch who has to know every minute detail of your life. You collapsed into a fit of half-sobs because you refused to be too distraught over someone who couldn’t find the time for you anymore. That’s lazy, Natsume said into your hair. You always liked when she petted your head for comfort. She let you sleep next to her while you wallowed in post-break up misery. I’ll punch her the next time I see her.

That was two months ago. Two months since you’ve seen Emi’s dyed-blonde head, the pretty dimples that came with her smile. It changes tonight.

Sigma Phi is never cheap with their ragers. Neither you or Natsume are in a sorority but you’d be dumb to miss out on sponsored alcohol and free cool ranch Doritos. The house is the tallest on Greek row, all high ceilings and shiny wooden banisters. The kitchen is where you keep comfortable. Away from the strawberry smoke, sticky floors everywhere you take a step. You’re waiting for Satoru to get you your soju when you see Emi walk through the front door.

Her roots are growing out. She’s got glitter on her eyelids, a shiny neck with the scented oil she uses because she’s always hated using perfume. If you step close enough you know she’ll smell like rose petals. Like the sailor’s bewitched limbs twitching with every sweet note of that siren’s song, you’re almost taking a step forward to follow her further into this stupid loud party.

As if he’s cued, Satoru gets in the way with two red cups in hand. “No yogurt soju so I got orange instead. Mixed it with orange soda so it’s ultra mega orange shit. Why the hell are you tiptoeing? You’re like two feet tall.”

“Shut up.” You make a grab for the cup he offers you, tipping back a generous gulp for a show of thanks. “It’s—I saw someone. I think.”

He swivels around. “Who?”

“My ex.” You almost flinch at the term. Moreso at the thought of Satoru calling you bitchless than having lost someone you genuinely cared for.

“Didn’t know you had one.” His eyebrows are furrowed with confusion, leaning back against the counter. He flicks an annoyed hand at the stale chips scattered everywhere. 

“It’s. Yeah. She wasn’t really around to show face towards the end, so.”

“What’s her name?” 

You could think of a million but you don’t feel like spitting venom. You’ve got your distraction for the night. You hope Satoru notices you’re wearing your shortest skirt. “Emi.”

“Emi? Utada Emi or Hirano Emi?”

“The first one.” How he knows more than one is beyond you. Satoru hums at your confirmation.

“She’s in my aerodynamics class,” he says. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about her.” Because if you do, you’ll probably start thinking about how she made your pillows smell good with that fresh linen scent. Or how she left you little origami cranes on your desk. Or the way she sounded in the morning with drool stuck to her chin—

“Oi.” Satoru snaps his fingers in front of your face. “You good? Sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. Or. Not really. Whatever.” You finish your drink with record speed. Anxiety crawls through your chest, makes you wonder what the hell Emi could be doing here. Or who she could be doing here. Suddenly you think about an empty room, her clumsy feet traipsing up those carpeted stairs. Looking at someone else with doe eyes like she did when she wanted you on top of her. You crush the red plastic in your hand.

“Satoru,” you say blankly. 

He’s not even halfway done his drink. “Uh huh.”

“Do you know how to make a girl come in five minutes?”

“Depends.” He levels you with a curious stare. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ve got for a challenge. “Can I use my hands?”

“Whatever body part you want.”

“Then yes. Who’s asking?”

“Wha–who the hell else?” You hiss. “You finishing that?”

Satoru looks down at his cup, then back up at you. And when he doesn’t immediately respond you just swipe at his hand to guzzle down the ultra mega orange shit. It’s not half-bad. A sweetness easy to swallow, not like the Casamigos he took with Suguru earlier. 

You let the dizziness settle. Satoru stares you down. “I’ll do it in two,” he says. “Wanna bet?”

It’s cryptic. And then you remember what you asked him. You squirm with the heavy suggestion. 

“Bathroom,” you order, and Satoru leads the way first.

Natsume’s sitting pretty at the bottom step of the stairs. She’s got a blunt pinched gently in her mouth, lights up with her inhale when she sees you. She dims into gossip when you come up to her. “Oh my god. Did you see–”

You nod, not that keen on hearing her name when you’re off to forget it. Satoru skips past and up two steps at a time with nothing more than a hey roomie. Natsume’s mouth quirks up in acknowledgment.

“Don’t scream too loud. Or do anyway. I can’t feel my fucking fingers from the music.” 

She slaps your ass when you pass her. “Take a shot with me after,” you call. Natsume winks. Satoru’s got the bathroom door wide open for you to walk through when you catch up.

For a frat, the space is clean. No nasty caulk jobs and the toilet paper holder’s actually full. You’ve got no time for more analysis when Satoru slams you against the door. “Jesus,” you groan.

He swallows what little else you have for complaint. His mouth is sweet on yours, coaxing your tongue for taste. “Nice skirt by the way.”

Satoru’s hands are greedy where they pull. Cupped under your jaw, teasing a touch on either side of your tits, then right down to your ass where he squeezes. Hard. 

“Keep going,” you mumble. Biting down on his lip when he grips you tighter, and you feel the coarse rut of his boner when he presses you harder against the door. “God. Get me wet.”

“I’ll make it worth your time.” He breathes wet kisses on your neck. Sucking deep till you twitch in simmering pleasure. 

“You fuckin’ better.”

He sneers in response. But he kisses you like he’s just as electrified. Needy for whatever high he’s promising to deliver on, and you want it fast. He juts into you, lifts your leg around his hip just to get the angle right. 

“Okay. Fuck–just.” You take his hand, fit it snug where your panties ride up on your pussy. He laughs against your teeth.

“Get me wet,” he mocks, playing with the arousal you just denied. You blush. Desperate measures. You’re glad your body responds to his this quick. Only to your detriment, because he knows you’re terrible at bluffing, and now he’s laughing at you. “You’re funny. Two minutes?”

He circles your clit with a rough finger. Too much, not enough. In the haze of your muddled head, the visual is enough to spark that heat. You’ve always liked his hands. There’s something about seeing it disappear under your skirt, like you’ve got something to hide. You offer a moan when he teases a finger inside.

Satoru leans a hot mouth into your ear. “Your girl ever get you like this?”

Your eyes are wide open. From his provocation, and now he’s got one finger snug up your pussy. “Oh my god.”

“You don’t need to answer,” he teases. “I know she didn’t.”

“You–” He sets a slow rhythm. Deep where it counts, grinding the palm of his hand till you moan from your chest. “You’re evil.”

Again. He knows you’re bluffing. That wet sound every time he moves is proof enough. You’re just talking because you’re not embarrassed anymore. You’ll let him have his way with it if it means you don’t have to think about anything else.

“Don’t be shy,” he prods.

Another finger, this time with less drive. You buzz from the intrusion. Knocking your head back on the door when he bottoms out, absolutely not shy with the sounds you’re making. Satoru kisses you into muted excitement. 

You don’t think he’s timing it. You sure as hell aren’t. As if you were ever scared he wouldn’t deliver. “Go faster,” you urge. This is probably one of the only two bathrooms available for use. You could at least taint it quicker than anyone else can.

“Cute. I like when you’re bossy.” You initiate a kiss this time. Slipping tongue and an indulgent moan down his throat, and that’s what spurs him on. 

His drive is back. Drawing out more wetness with earnest fingering, the guttural noises straight from your gut. Your eyes roll back with the feeling, heat unfurling faster than the blood trying to reach your fucked out brain. 

“Fuck, oh my god.” Your fingers curl into his biceps. “That's–yeah, oh my god I’m. Close–!”

He crowds you in again, forehead on your sweaty one. Nothing to say, letting your panting do all the talking for the both of you. His fingers hook into every wet spot, ramming the edge of his hand on your clit till it’s battered into ultra-sensitivity. You twitch with his every move. 

“You better fuckin’ come over tonight,” Satoru groans. You’ll look down at that hard dick later. You know he’s fostering the pain with quiet lips. How considerate. 

“W-Whatever. Yes I’ll–just–oooh fuck.” He’s jacked the speed to eleven. No more pretense of easing you into it. The sound is enough to get you off, wet thrust for wet thrust. “Satoru,” you whine.

He kisses your nose. “Hmm?”

“If I squirt it’s on you,” you warn.

“You say that like a threat.” He shows no sign of stopping, too. He’s impatient with anticipation, and you’re fading fast. “You’ll give it to me?”

You were kidding. Sort of. It’s not off the table. All you know is the heat is building and you’re about to explode. “Ye-es!”

“So do it,” he presses. 

He curls his fingers with every sharp jut against your core. You hang your head low, letting that high come to you, and you unfurl with the release. Shaking through a tiring orgasm, clawing tight on Satoru while you squeal. “Oh fuck.”

He’s relentless with the come down. Drawing out those waves with taut fingers, focusing deep. You don’t squirt but his wrist is disgustingly wet. 

“You’re hot,” he says when you drop your leg. You slump against him with a groan. “Look. Prune fingers.”

You don’t look but you know he’s wiggling them. Always in awe with what he can do to you when you’re down for it. You’ll let him bask in your orgasmic glory, because you’re just as good as getting him undone.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s get back, I wanna see Natsume before we leave.”

You shift your skirt till it's decently covering your ass again. Satoru washes his hands. You both ignore the bulge in his sweatpants.

Then someone knocks on the door.

You think you’ve always believed in fate. Some cosmic divinity keeping a watchful eye on whatever energy waves you’re spreading out into the universe. Because when Satoru opens the door for you, it’s Emi, and she’s looking disheveled, but not in a good way.

A pang of sympathy echoes in your chest. Your fingers twitch forward, already thinking of how to move her hair behind her ear.

Satoru beats you to a greeting.

“You look like shit,” he jests.

Emi ignores him. Stares right at you, and your breath stutters. You’re not as taken by her beauty, this time. Not when she shot you down, dug her heel into your heart, got it all muddy. You grab Satoru's hand. He doesn’t say anything when you curl your fingers into his.

“Take care of yourself,” is all you croak out. This time, it’s you leaving her behind.

Natsume’s gone from her bottom perch. You don’t feel like finding her anymore. Satoru keeps you close to him when you walk back downstairs.

He stops you when you don’t stop walking towards the front door. For the second time tonight, he asks: “You good?”

You shake your head. “No. But we’re going back to your place. Distract me some more.”

Satoru’s smile is wicked in its suggestion. “I can do that,” he confirms.

He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way back to his dorm.

[nishloves]

plethora 2; choi seungcheol

(n.) abundance

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

important to read part 1!

advisable to read the prologue and introduction of "seventeen dating simulator".

words : 8k approx

warnings : curse words, implied sex (not descriptive and not highly suggestive so 16+), action — injuries, blood and mentions of death.

[ kindly refer to the prologue for accurate sequences of all the stories in the series <3 ]

genre : fluff / com / angst / action / royal au / fantasy au

cameo of other members will be present!

tags : @kflixnet @icyminghao @dearharshii @feat-sun @belladaises @bmkgemz @desi-brownie

You sighed as you worked on the new ideas put forward by the princess who wasn't as dumb as Seungcheol made her out to be. You wondered why Seungcheol asked you if you liked him two days ago, but you figured he must have had some drink instead of tea. You thought things would get awkward between you two but, Seungcheol treated you the same so you didn't show any awkwardness on your behalf. People of Meraki were weirder than that of Earth, but undoubtedly they were purer with their intentions.

You vaguely remembered the day when you had first joined the castle for work, after all the paperwork and interviews and agreements, you were finally here, only for Seungcheol to say,

"You're five minutes late?"

Your eyes twitched, "I live in the countryside, your majesty, it's hard to navigate to castle."

"I see, then you may live in the castle."

"I— what?"

He simply nodded, at that time you weren't close with him, so he simply dismissed you after saying, "If you want you can bring your parents here too— I have a castle, I can house my workers. Ask the steward to appoint you a room in the West wing."

West wing of course, it was the most secluded part of the castle; where most of the workers who were from different kingdoms or who resided too far away lived, it was also the wing for unimportant guests, yet you didn't mind, you were nothing but a scholar a week ago, and now you're just a treasurer, you didn't deserve the East wing which was for royal guests and parks and leisure and you surely didn't deserve the South wing which were privy grounds of the Royal Family of Aurum.

"y/n, look here, can the cost of steel and concrete be compromised here?" Seungcheol asked as you gazed up at him, it was rare for a king to be so immersed in regular works but Seungcheol was more than happy to do so, he was a fine king for sure.

"The price is up due to more chromium content in them, it is safer," you replied simply as Seungcheol mused a small "oh" of understanding.

You remembered how Seungcheol had entered your room in haste, a day before Seungcheol had overindulged himself in liquor and fell down the stairs, you had helped him up, you had set him on the bed, you indulged yourself in his drunk talk where he worried about his country and his incapability to be a good ruler and you made sure none of the servants saw, because servants will inevitably talk.

Seungcheol panicked after waking up, he rushed to your room only to find you half naked, adorning a thin chemise as his ears turned red and he left the room hastily.

You both swore to keep quiet and soon became friends, too good of friends.

"What about the ball, y/n? When are we starting the season?" Seungcheol asked, not looking up from the paper.

"We have been decorating the halls, the invitations are done so at fastest... after a week—"

"Then hold it after a week."

You flinched, Seungcheol was stubborn, he would actually want the party to be in a week.

"Any problem?" He asked, his eyes looking at yours carefully as if he were assessing any negative feelings of yours.

You blushed, it wasn't as if Seungcheol was wrong, he was basically rejecting you there— you had to say no. How can anyone not fall for his handsome face?

"It's hard to manage a ball along with dam works—"

"I'm sure you can do it," Seungcheol grinned.

"I know you're trying to make my life harder," You sighed as Seungcheol whined, "You know I'm not! And you're so rude to your King!"

As much as intimidating he was to others, as much as stubborn he was as much as a temper he had, he always seemed like a huge softie to you, you couldn't understand why was anyone scared of him? Until you saw him banishing a man and cutting off his fingers because he stole a sum of fifty thousand from the treasury. It was tinier than an ant amount of money for Seungcheol, but justice was far more important to him, plus all the funds he had put up for the non-wealthy population of his kingdom.

"You're sweet Seungcheol."

"And you're mean."

You merely smiled at him and he smiled back, content you both started your work again, you remembered how he admired your office, deeming it to be more peaceful to work, you have never been alone since.

"Since when is the prince of Ailes taking shelter in Aurum?" You asked almost absent mindedly.

He chuckled, "Since when do you know?"

"Yesterday," you smiled, "Will he show himself?"

"Nah, he's leaving," Seungcheol muttered as you looked up at him, almost shocked, "When did he get here?"

"Two days ago."

"He's leaving so soon?"

"He's the crown prince, he can't find an escape in Aurum everytime."

You understood it, but it felt sad to you, people of their age on Earth were used to partying, enjoying their lives while working, and a holiday for a king was really hard to come by.

"He will join us for the season though, right?" You asked, wanting to meet Jeonghan again, he really was a fine specimen of a fairy.

"So now you like Jeonghan better than me?" Seungcheol pouted, his eyes twinkling as you laughed, "Maybe."

He hummed slowly as he said, "Of course he would join us, he would never not."

You chuckled as you noticed the large desk of Seungcheol which he had recently installed in your office— his excuse being he's disturbed almost every thirty minutes in his own office so during important works he escapes to yours.

You had progressed in the story of Seungcheol and yours, but it wasn't love, it was friendship— too sweet of friendship, you would want to bring any kind of awkwardness in.

"y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Give me your first dance at the ball."

You looked up at him, surprised, "You want to dance with me first? Surely, there would be guests who would fit the position better."

"There would be, but they would press me for matrimony and I... don't want that, don't want to prioritise my time in that aspect right now, so you're the safest partner," he smiled.

It was customary for the King to dance at the first dance of the ball, nothing after that though.

"I sure wouldn't want your admirers to see me as a potential threat but, sure," you laughed, somehow everything felt lighter with Seungcheol and you could never understand why.

"Great," he grinned, showing off his dimples as your heart skipped a beat, he really was handsome.

"How did your confrontation go?" Jeonghan asked, preparing to leave on a carriage when he flew on his wings. His subordinates looked at him warily, possibly too irritated by his antics, but jeonghan was so caring at times that neither would his subordinates dare to hate him.

"She won't accept it," Seungcheol replied simply.

"Do you think, she just doesn't like you?" Jeonghan sighed.

"Oh she does like me! What are you on? I will make her confess."

Jeonghan sighed again as Seungcheol looked at him with scrunched eyebrows.

"Just all the best— hope she confesses soon so that the awkwardness evaporates," Jeonghan smiled as he adjusted his cuffs, his long hairs were tamed in curls and instead of normal loose shirt and pants he wore a princely outfit for a change.

"Never expected you to reveal your location to them," Seungcheol motioned towards Jeonghan's subordinates who stiffened, probably embarassed.

"They would be searching for me in Sonora for a week if i hadn't interfered," Jeonghan chuckled, patting his aide's shoulder.

"I cause them too much trouble to complain though."

Jeonghan's wings were hidden by a charm as he got on the carriage, Seungcheol just smiled at him— whimsical to a fault, Jeonghan would soon be crowned, and then they won't be able to meet freely.

"See you in a week, cheol, make sure that the ball is amazing," Jeonghan grinned, waving at his friend.

The season— the wedding season, the courting season was one of the most important events throughout Meraki; usually held by Aurum, Elixir or Sonora, this year it was Aurum's chance to shine. Everyone would be present at the first ball of the season— the first ball of the relatively new king.

Most of the coronations either happened before or after the season and as far as Seungcheol knew— Soonyoung was to be crowned before and Jeonghan after the season, he sighed, turning away after seeing out his friend only to meet with a pleasant smile, a smile which regrew his wilted garden, a smile which relieved him of worry and a smile which he swears he doesn't love.

"Did Prince Jeonghan leave already? I didn't even have a chance to talk to him," you groaned leaning on your left leg as your mouth formed a pout, which made Seungcheol chuckle.

"You will see him after a week."

"Well, it would have been better if i had some alone time with him prior to the season," you jested, a smirk forming on your lips.

Seungcheol didn't take that as a joke.

"You have a crush on him?"

"Maybe."

Seungcheol's heart dampened, a small nagging pain shot up in his chest but he waved it off, you were joking right? But, would you joke about that numerous times?

"You're still my favourite though."

Seungcheol never thought that some meager words from your lips would have the authority to put him at him and make him distressed.

"I am, aren't i?"

"Don't make me regret saying that."

You sighed as you walked around the beautiful garden, you had to go in check on the preparation of the ball because apparently Seungcheol had made you the chief planner of the ball along with being the treasurer. You were tired, you never assumed that a gam— thinking about the past would just make you sad.

"y/n?" An unknown voice called out to you as you froze, you weren't a dumb heroine like in those horror movies where they would run towards an unknown voice but it was Seungcheol's castle, it was safe right?

Yet your steps were quickened, you were a teensy bit of coward afterall.

"Hey y/n!" You finally looked back at the serene voice which called out to you, which you couldn't ignore even if you were running because your social battery was exhausted.

"Princess," you bowed in front of Phosphene's princess as she smiled up at you.

"No need for formalities, y/n— as I assume you're the King's lov— friend, one of the closest ones at that?" The princess asked, now walking alongside you, you couldn't help but clear out the imaginary creases in your dress yet the princess walked with such poise that you were enamoured by her, you didn't understand why Seungcheol didn't like her?

"I suppose I am somewhat of a friend of his majesty, but he has like twenty close friends despite being a king, i don't suppose it was because I am excellent or anything, we just have to work together a lot."

"Oh? I see."

A heavy silence weighed upon you two, you couldn't excuse yourself from the crown's guest, you at least had that amount of knowledge from your stay in Meraki.

"y/n, you're lucky," the princess smiled, her hand gently holding yours.

You were a little shocked but you let her hold your hand, "I'm lucky?"

"Having Seungcheol's favour is no small deal, it's hard to impress him," the princess grinned dropping your hand.

"I suppose," you murmured as you subconsciously stroked your hand.

"y/n, i adore you, i respect you, you have come far by your own."

"Thank-you, your highness but it's really nothing special, I just worked hard at academics," you smiled sheepishly as the princess sighed.

"You give yourself too less of a credit y/n."

"I don't know about that," you smiled.

"y/n, on a serious note, do you like Seungcheol?" The princess asked.

"Of course, he's very reliable, capable and in all a really good ruler—"

"I don't mean it in that way, y/n, do you like him as a person and just as a subject?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard true love transcends all, would you be okay if Seungcheol marries someone?"

Those words felt like an arrow to your heart, you didn't even want to imagine it at this point. You didn't take Seungcheol's words seriously before, but now you did, if things went well he would marry her.

"Why would it affect me if he marries anyone?" You gave an awkward chuckle. But you were affected, deeply. You didn't know just how much you liked that man, but this one questions had you questioning your entire sanity, just why were her words like an iron rod to your gut?

"A friendly advice y/n, always let your heart be known even if it isn't reciprocated."

Was she mocking you? She probably wasn't but you were pressed.

"You aren't my friend, princess." You hissed suddenly realising your lack of manners.

"I— I didn't—"

"It's okay y/n, I don't mind—"

"I need to go, I'm sorry."

You whispered as you swiftly turned away, walking in the wrong direction but it didn't matter, you had to get away from her, away from your own thoughts, you had to tap back into reality. This wasn't a game.

You hid your logs in deep pockets of your red gown and this time, for a change, maids were helping you get into your dress, a treatment you had never received before and would probably never receive again.

You weren't someone who was needed in these balls, in these high society talks, you were a mere treasurer and all your work was to fiddle with the numerous log books and figure out ways to expand Aurum's economy. A taxing work, but you accepted it. You had to accept it.

Your eyes lingered over the mirror for longer, a wider smile graced your features, oh there were times when every lady loved to be dolled up. Your red gown was lined with lace, with puffed sleeves and rectangular cleavage, you felt like a princess but deep in your heart you knew there would be ladies who would be dressed more extravagantly, who would look prettier than you, who would be able to enamour Seungcheol. If not the princess of Phosphene, there were others, there would always be someone better than you.

If it was a random fictional book you were reading, or a game you were playing, you would definitely root for a character like yours, yet here, you knew you were no match for someone like him, you knew you might not be able to go back to where you came from if you actually fell deeper for him, a literal manchild.

But his plump red lips, his smirk, the way he pronounced every word that fluttered out of his sweet red lips was distracting, you just couldn't mind your business when he was around.

But, you had made up your mind, you wouldn't fall for him. Never.

So when Seungcheol approached you while you were stuffing your face with oh so delicious lemon cakes why did you panic to maintain poise when your employer already knew of your glutton habits, why did your heart skip a beat when he asked you for dance when he had already made sure you knew of it before. Why was your heart laughing with joy as he twirled you around and everyone looked at you, when he had clarified he had only wanted you for his own personal gain?

"y/n? Are you alright?" He asked, his deep voice shaking you to the core as you shivered slightly.

"I am just overwhelmed," you replied slowly.

"Hey! Look at me." One of his hands subtly went to your chin as he made you gaze up at him, a gesture which people would think was a part of dance but actually wasn't.

He made you look at him, at his brown-red orbs, his eyes which were normally brown glinted with red whenever he had anxiety, temper, worry or concern and the same eye would shine golden when he would be immensely happy. People didn't know that though, they only knew of him as a shot-tempered, prideful yet capable king.

"Breathe, and just look at me. Don't care about them, think of it as only us being here," he whispered in your ears as he brought you closer for the dance step, his warm breath fanning your face as your face flushed.

"Are you looking at me?" He asked, a slight mischief in his voice which you didn't detect, but you gulped and replied honestly.

"I am." You were, your eyes travelled all upon him, to his red silk shirt buried under his black and golden popped collared blazer, to his tight fitting pants which did mercy to his bottom and thighs, to the way his now shorter hair rested on top of his eyebrows, you noticed everything.

"Does it feel better?" His arm went around your back, you couldn't help but notice the lingering touches of his at every step, yet you paid no heed to them, he would never like you.

"It's better than before for sure," you didn't trust the words slipping from your lips, he had only made you more nervous and agitated by his "calming" words, you understood that and yet you weren't able to notice the smirk on his lips for your eyes could only see his, which twinkled with a slight golden light.

And then the music stopped.

You hastily stepped away from him as Seungcheol's eyebrow curved up, he gently kissed your gloved hands, your hands shaking slightly in his grasp which Seungcheol held firm. You gave him a well-practiced curtsey as you excused yourself out of the ballroom, too hot, too in love.

But then your eyes travelled to the princess of Phosphene and then you locked eyes with every other princess there, every other princess which would try to get Seungcheol to marry them and you stopped, your legs stopping involuntarily as you turned in the direction of the powder room, you didn't want to get Seungcheol out of your sight.

"I see you were thinking about my words," you heard the princess's voice as you turned around only to find her smiling at you.

"Perhaps, your highness. Your words were too wise and conflicting," you admitted collecting your gown as you went towards the powder room, "Later your highness, i have an emergency."

Like damned you had an emergency, you didn't want to be in her presence, she made you feel insecure without meaning to do so, oh how you hated your heart for falling for Seungcheol— but the heart wants what it wants.

You stepped out of the powder room, as you walked back into the ballroom, you couldn't run away— you were in no position to do so, after Seungcheol's first dance everyone would be dying to meet you, to interact with you, to dance with you.

And as you had expected, when you stepped back into the room, all eyes were upon you, including his. He eyes you like a predator, holding a golden glass of wine, smirking and stalking his prey through lush grasses as you confidentially trod forward, you wouldn't let this man's presence shake you even if you had the biggest crush on him, and so you did what was to be done.

You socialized, you talked, you laughed, you danced; all under all-knowing eyes of Seungcheol, all while ignoring his prying glances.

The males were enamoured by you, the high society women now wanting to enlist you in their friend-circle, hell you were sure if you were even the tiniest bit of noble as they were, you would have had five different males courting you.

So when the ball approached its end, you made a decision to step back and relax, and as you were free you admired the beautiful hall you and your helpers had set up together, tall white columns were decorated by glaze lilies, each table covered by finest silk tableware, cutlery donned with silver plates and rose covered with sprinkles of gold, extravagant chandeliers hung on the ball room and it was all so beautiful. You hadn't even started admiring the entrance to the East wing.

"You're quite busy today." You heard a voice as you whipped behind.

"Oh Accountant! How are you?"

"Please call me Eiser," he grinned, stretching his hand towards you as you laughed.

"Sure Sir Eiser."

"Lady y/n," he grinned as he passed you a fruit drink, you had promised yourself to not drink, just so you could handle Seungcheol after he was drunk, because he was definitely drinking, though he could hold off his own.

"Ah, so many guests, it's kind of a pity that half of these guests would leave within a span of a couple of days."

"What do you mean, Sir?" You asked, sipping your drink.

"Oh you're new, right. Well, one of the kingdoms holds the first ball to commerce the three month long season, after which most of the guests leave to hold their own in their own kingdom, only some stay for more than a week, rest all get busy with their own; people travel a lot if someone catches their eye, though that is not common," Eiser explained as you listened to him intently.

"Not many want to leave the comfort of their own Kingdom and kins and join another, until they are in pure love."

"Well you can vouch for that," you grinned, sipping your tea— drink more intensely.

"What must you mean by that?"

"There is no bee attached to your lips now, I presume?" The man turned beet red as he tried to explain to you the situation, you waved him off though, chuckling slightly.

And then your eyes mistakenly caught Seungcheol's who was dancing his second dance in the second last dance of the ball, with a princess of God knows what kingdom, you felt defeated, your heart cracked by his one single move as he took in a sharp breath and excused yourself to the balcony to get fresh air yet again.

Why were you so affected? Why were you so awkward? Why would you think you would be the only one to dance with him?

You tried to divert your attention to the beautiful flowers that were curled up on the railing but to no effect, you hated your heart, you didn't want a heartbreak, you never wanted your heart to break. You prided yourself for a strong personality, a strong heart which doesn't like many, but why did it seem so vulnerable now, so delicate, so easy to permeate.

"y/n."

Wow so now you were hallucinating.

Just in case you turned around, only to find the man you had wanted to run away from the most, he was so ethereal, so out of this world— that was technically true but, you couldn't help but yearn for him. Oh how you just wanted him to kiss you.

"Why are you ignoring me?" He asked, stepping closer to you as you stepped back subconsciously.

"I am not," you asserted.

"But you are," Seungcheol whispered, not wanting to be overheard, not wanting the attention on the balcony.

He came as discreetly as possible and shut the doors, he didn't want anyone sneaking up on you both.

"I said, I'm not. I'm just feeling under the weather," you replied, turning your head away from him, giving him a show of your clavicle.

He stepped forward.

"I don't like it."

"Don't like what?"

"This invisible distance which wasn't here a week ago, did something happen? Did anyone say anything to you? Tell me," Seungcheol pleaded, his hands grasped your arms gently as his mouth formed a pout while he looked at you with concern.

You could have smelled his alcohol.

"There is no problem," you replied, yet you didn't shake his hands off you, you didn't want to.

"Did you have a problem when I danced with Kwan's sister? I promise there is nothing—"

"There is no problem," you spoke, you cut him off, ironically making him realise the problem.

Seungcheol's grip on your arm loosened as his brow quirked up, you could practically feel his smirk ghosting against your head, his lips not touching you still.

"You do like me."

"I don't!" You hissed and turned to look at him, a big mistake, his eyes which were previously red before now had a copperish hue— a hue which even you couldn't describe, it made him look perfect, more perfect than he already was.

"If you don't then you won't mind if I lean in and kiss you, would you?" He asked, his breath fanning your face as your face reddened. Liar. He would never do that, the traditions won't allow him to.

"Or would you mind if i step away and never kiss you," he grinned as you looked up at him, too smitten by him, you knew you looked like a love-struck puppy but you didn't really care.

"Tell me to move, princess," he whispered as he stepped even closer to you while your back was pressed against the railing.

"Tell me to go away," he whispered as his lips ghosted yours.

"Do you not want me to kiss you?"

You shook your head.

He clicked his lips, "Liar."

"I will ask again, do you not want me to kiss you? Use your words sweetheart," his deep voice shook your core, eliciting the strangest of responses but now your emotions were too in control and you said, "kiss me."

"That's my girl."

Seungcheol's lips attached with yours, almost hungrily, almost as if he was wanting this to happen for forever, his hands searched for all the dips and creases in your body as you jolted backwards to the railing, your hand gripping the cold steel as Seungcheol messily made out with you. His other hand went around your back as both of your hands went into his perfect hair, messing them up. He bit your lower lips with his teeth as he swiped his tongue across, exploring your mouth. His other hand gripped your nape as he deepened the kiss, you couldn't help it, you were so in love with him, you were so bewitched by him, it was almost cruel. You couldn't stop your hunger for him, and he couldn't stop his hunger for you.

The ball had come to an end, but Seungcheol wasn't stopping now.

(to be continued in part 3...)

congratulations! you finished the 2nd part of the "plethora" series of choi seungcheol, your game is saved! please wait for an update for the final part <3

a/n : ahahahaha this took longer than it had to :')

[jaxteller87]

love bug

Jax’s POV

The roar of motorcycles echoed off all the houses in the neighborhood as I pulled into the driveway. The rest of the gang continued, heading to the clubhouse with the gritty scent of motor oil lingering in the air. Generally, I would have joined them for a little mischief and a bit of whiskey, but I had other things on my mind, more important things. Tossing my cut onto the kitchen table, I noticed a playpen out of the corner of my eye. As I got closer to it, I saw a delicate pink bow and a note written on some pale yellow parchment paper. A while back, Opie and I had stumbled upon this old thing while cleaning out the shed, a definite relic from the past but with a new purpose, seeing as how we needed to make room for the newest addition to the Teller family.

“Cleaned this up and thought the Teller family could use it. Lots of love, Donna and Opie,” the note read.

I had to admit, it looked almost brand new. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it covered in dirt and cobwebs a few weeks ago, I’d probably think it was. I wasn’t sure whether or not Amber had seen it yet, but I felt the urge to find some cute little stuffed animals to throw in there anywhere. On the off chance she didn’t already catch a glimpse of the surprise, I could surely sweeten the deal and send her over the moon in a good way.

Amber’s POV

I ran my fingers over my stomach, acknowledging the thoughtful gesture from our best friends.

“This was so sweet of your aunt and uncle, Love Bug,” I said, rubbing my belly. The cute little cat and dog stuffies that Jax added looked just like two of our current fur babies, which really made my heart melt even more. The next day, before my shift, I wanted to swing over to Opie’s and visit Donna to express our thanks. I knew they would never take any money from us, so Jax had told me to slip it into their mailbox with a note from Clay stating it was a little extra for a run they had pulled a few weeks ago.

After a sluggish day at work, I set a course for home. With exhaustion dragging behind me, I barely made it to the couch before I felt my eyelids getting heavy. Even though it was a tough day, if I’d take a nap now, I’d just be up all night, likely getting into stuff and keeping Jax awake. So, instead of catching some shuteye on the sofa, I made it my point to complete a few chores around the house. Just as I started to fold laundry on the bed, I heard a car pull into the driveway. It was Donna, most likely stopping by to see how I was getting on with Jax running some late-night errands for the club.

“Hey, girl,” I greeted her, wearing a tired smile.

​“Hey!” She reared back for a moment, “Sweetie, don’t take this wrong way, but you look like shit.”

​“Well, nice to see you too,” I joked, welcoming her in.

​“Ah, you know I didn’t mean anything by it, but you really can’t keep pulling all these long shifts in your condition. You’re going to wear yourself too thin.”

​“I know; I don’t want Jax making all the money. I want to contribute financially too, plus I like to stay busy.” I wheeled myself toward the kitchen, “Especially when Jax is out doing club stuff.”

“I get that, it’s just—”

“Seriously, Don, I’m fine,” I opened the fridge and grabbed some juice. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to check on you and Baby Teller,” she replied, settling at the table. “Did Jax say anything to you about Clay forgetting to pay the boys for the last run?”

​I knew she was hinting about the money in the mailbox, and I hoped I wasn’t too tired that I couldn’t keep up the act of playing dumb. “I think he mentioned it. I guess Bobby messed up the split, and they were just seeing it right.”

“Oh. Never knew Bobby to mess up when it came to money,” the look on her face wasn’t entirely clear whether or not she bought it or not, so I quickly kept the conversation moving.

“As for me, everything has been,” I found myself pausing, and I wasn’t sure why exactly, “good, actually.”

​She nodded, but I could feel her eyes on me as if they were pleading with me to dive a little deeper into my thoughts. “Alright,” she said in a long, condescending sort of way. “Can I take a look at the nursery so far?”

​“Of course!” I exclaimed, leading her back the hall.

As we walked into the freshly painted room, she had a surprised look, “Wow, Amber! This is beautiful!”

“Yeah, it’s coming along,” then the hormones hit me like a truck, and I burst into tears. “What if Jax doesn’t want this baby, and he leaves me?” I confessed, blurting it out and letting my vulnerability break through the fragile armor I tried to keep.

​“That’s the pregnancy talking if I ever heard it,” she put her arm around me and rubbed my shoulder.

“But, we conceived the baby, little Love Bug, while he was locked up, in front of two guards even, do you know how embarrassing—”

“Hey, stop that stuff right now. You know the SOA life is anything but glamorous. Just be glad that you and I lucked out and were able to tame our bad boys.” Donna, one of the few privy to the actual circumstances of my pregnancy, reassured me. “It could be worse…”

“Oh yeah? How?” I asked, wiping my nose across my sleeve.

“I don’t know. Like Tig could have been the father or something,” she playfully gagged.

“Yikes,” I thought about it for a minute and realized she was right, and I was most likely overreacting.

“Besides, after Love Bug is born, I’m certain Jax is going to shower you both with so much love that you’ll be the envy of every single mom in Charming.”

“You hear that, little girl? Aunt Donna knows your daddy is going to love you,” I whispered, my hand tenderly caressing the life inside me.

“Woah, hold up, you’re going to have a girl!?” Donna shrieked.

“Yup, found out yesterday. Gemma went with me,” I smiled through the tears that seemed to be a constant companion. Then, the emotions overwhelmed me once again, and I found myself with the waterworks pouring down my rosy cheeks. “Goodness, these damn hormones. I wish they would stop making me cry at the dumbest things. The other day, I cried because I forgot cereal at the store,” I confessed, trying to laugh through it all.

“Yeah, that’s the part of being pregnant I don’t miss,” Donna chuckled, “That and not being able to paint my toenails.”

“Fair point,” I chirped. It wasn’t even that funny, although very accurate, but her remark caused me to laugh like I just heard the funniest joke on the planet.

“But really, Amber, you don’t have anything to worry about. Jax is gonna love her and spoil her; love you and spoil you. I can see it now; she’s gonna have her daddy wrapped around her little finger,” Donna winked and wiggled her pinky in front of my face.

“Thank you for this,” I laughed, feeling the warmth of family support.

“Hey, anytime. That’s what family’s for,” Donna smiled.

A few months later, the hospital room filled with anticipation. I lay there, gazing at a family of orange butterflies outside the window—reminding me of the surreal and symbolic dance of life amid the chaos of childbirth.

“They haven’t left, have they?” Jax asked as he held our newborn daughter, Mary Lynn, in his arms.

“No, they haven’t,” I sighed softly, exhausted, watching the persistent fluttering.

“You want her back, Mom?” he said, flashing his pearly whites at me.

“Of course,” I smiled at him through my tired eyes and reached out for our little Love Bug. Jax carefully stood up from the seat and ever so slowly transferred our sleeping baby girl into my arms.

“Welcome to the family, Mary Lynn Teller,” I smiled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of our daughter’s head. At that moment, surrounded by the gritty echoes of the outlaw world we live in and the delicate dance of butterflies, the Teller family welcomed its newest member.

[zmediaoutlet]

ww: letters (4)

for the @wincestwednesdays prompt: buried

I broke my arm today. Same one I sprained—god, ten years ago, now? Got another sling and the doctor told me not to do anything too exciting for the next twelve weeks. Look she gave me, you wouldn’t have stopped grinning at me for five hundred miles. Good thing one of us has a sense of restraint.

Told her it was a mountain biking accident. No call to mention the ghost. She bought it. Normal people will believe pretty much anything. Easiest part of the job, almost. All we had to say was—sheriff’s office, reporters, FBI. They let us right in. Maybe that’s because it wasn’t too far off from the truth. We really were investigating the mysterious death. I really was doing something stupid and dangerous. Mountain biking has as much chance of breaking your arm as getting thrown across a forest clearing. It’s like when we’d ask for a motel room and the clerk would get nervous and weird until we said we were brothers and they got all relieved. It was true. They didn’t need to know all the other things that were true.

Twelve weeks off. Got me thinking. It’s winter now. I’ve been working in the midwest, mostly. Not really talking to the people we knew. Another thing I’ve practiced. I got a motel room—king bed—and that’s a lot of time to fill, and right now I’m sitting at the window and watching the snow cover the car and the lot and the road outside until the whole world’s gone this thick soft smothering white. Sort of thing you could sink under and freeze down to something inert and maybe never come out. Permafrost. Only—

Once, we were in Buffalo in the winter. You must remember because you spent one hundred percent of the time bitching your head off. We had a cabin we were squatting in and it had a fireplace and one bed and you made me drag it over to within five feet of the hearth and you huddled in against me under the blankets like you were going to freeze to death. Forget all the dozens of modern amenities we could’ve taken advantage of. I let you stick your icicle toes against my calves and I let you pull the quilt up over our heads so we’d suffocate and I remember, there in the dark, how you finally stopped shuddering, and relaxed, and said something like, could be worse, I guess, and I said how, and you said the cabin could be on fire.

I can’t stop remembering. All the times before I tried to—keep it separate, you know? Compartmentalization. Lot of practice with that, too. There was the job I had to do and the things I had to make happen to be sure that job could get done and all the stuff I might have wanted to remember, or feel, that all just got—set aside. It was a waste of time. But—now I’ve got twelve weeks, and the snow’s falling, and I just—it’s a dumb metaphor. But I don’t want it all gone, under the ice. It’s not supposed to fossilize. It’s all right here. What was the point of having it for all those years, if we’re not meant to keep it?

Forecast calls for eight inches. (I can hear the joke you’re making.) I got a bottle of bourbon that I’m using instead of the pills she gave me. The car’s iced like a cake. There’s a football game on in ten minutes and the radio’s set to classic rock and it’s warm, in here. My arm hurts. It could be worse.

[fujoreads]

The Summer Hikaru Died Vol. 1 + 2 // Review & Thoughts

I just finished reading volume 2 and realized I did not talk about vol. 1 at all, so let's talk!

The Summer Hikaru Died (story & art by mokomokuren) is a cosmic horror story with a queer-coded complicated relationship, set in rural Japan. Got your interest? Well, you’re in for a ride!

CW: Death; Body & Cosmic Horror; Gay Panic & Homophobia

I honestly don’t remember how I got to know about this… I think someone talked about it in a podcast episode? I remember the concept being very interesting: your friend is gone for a week and when he comes back, it turns out he’s some sort of creature that only our protagonist is aware of.

I read both volumes with a huge time gap—almost an entire year, I think?—and every time I finished one, I was just too stunned to read much of any other thing that day. It’s immersive, it’s creepy, and it has that gay panic vibe only these types of works can give. I love me some fluffy and dramatic romance, but the angsty, scary and out there stuff is what conquers me.

I’ll admit: I thought this was going to be just another BL I’d forget soon enough, so the horror aspect caught me off guard… and I absolutely loved it! It’s intense without being always present. I wouldn’t say it’s psychological horror as the horror is present, but it does not rely on cheap jumpscares. Instead, it builds its tense atmosphere, and the use of cicadas for that is amazing. I remember getting the same anxiety-inducing feeling when reading Higurashi: When They Cry (the visual novel), like the heat is getting to you.

I’m not a huge horror fan. Not that I don’t like it—I love it—but I just can’t find stuff that suits my specific tastes. This one does, and I can’t get enough of it. I love mystery and horror but I hate the kind of horror that relies on visuals to scare the reader. This one managed to have a healthy balance and it serves as the exception.

It has Hikaru’s face. It has Hikaru’s voice. It even has Hikaru’s memories. But whatever came down from the mountains six months ago isn’t Yoshiki’s best friend. Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. Carrying on at school and hanging out as if nothing has changed—as if Hikaru isn’t gone—would be crazy...but when it looks so very like Hikaru...and acts so very like Hikaru…

This story is fantastic. It’s fast-paced, and yet you feel stuck in time, glued to your seat. I sometimes even forgot the background cicada noises I’d play while reading.

This is mysterious, but don’t expect your typical mystery read. This is a slice of life existencial thriller, dealing with bizarre creatures and worst of all—your own feelings.

Mokumokuren’s art is just superb. It’s so unique that if I wasn’t already drawn by the synopsis, I would have read it for the art alone. Not only is the artstyle pleasing to look at, but the way they draw perspectives and play with the shading does wonders to the horror elements.

Also, I have to shoutout to Abigail Blackman (the letterer) and Yen Press! The way the sound effects were inserts in the panels made a world of difference, especially when it comes to the cicada sounds.

The story follows mainly Yoshiki and Hikaru, two best friends in a rural Japanese village. Yoshiki is more of a gloomy kid, while Hikaru (just like his name, “light”) is the sunny, dumb kind. This all changes after the events the synopsis presents, showing Hikaru as more feeling, and even more childish.

These two are so interesting to follow: a co-dependent pair that doesn’t want to admit it and the way this shows through a literal monster is just delicious.

The way Yoshiki feels repulsed towards his friend and his own feelings, while feeling seduced to accept something that might not be so good to him—and yet, it feels right. He misses his friend and feels conflicting feelings towards this new creature inhabiting Hikaru’s body. Is it alright to accept this as Hikaru, or will it never be the same? Are is feelings true when directed to someone who isn’t there anymore?

The way Hikaru tries to come to terms with the meaning for his feelings and what is “Hikaru” and the being’s own identity. His strong feelings of loneliness and feeling overly attached to Yoshiki is something I could definitely relate to.

While there’s nothing explicitely better about queer media, something I’ve noticed is how more subtle and metaphorical dynamics and relationships can be, either because of direct societal prejudice or because of how queer people grow to hide their feelings, in fear of rejection and humiliation. Of course, the latter can also happen with hetero couples, but the feelings of rejection that can lead to co-dependence and loneliness are just that much stronger within the queer sphere, especially amongst gay men—and it’s visceral, to the point of fitting right into the horror realm.

Dealing with the unknown can be scary, and the way mokumokuren portrays this relationship and mixes it with the cosmic horror elements is masterfully done. It feels gross but erotic—like a guilty pleasure you find as a teenager—without ever being pornographic in nature. Hell, there’s not even a kiss or explicit thoughts, it’s all a play of “will they, won’t they” for the readers to munch over. While this is a fast-paced series, it’s also a slow burn when it comes to their relationship.

The writing iself isn’t anything too grand, due to its format. You can’t expect too much of a focus on writing in a visual medium.

I’ll talk about this into more detail in the following paragraphs, but the way the writing mixes with the environment and horror elements is where it peaks. There’s occasional bolding and a play with the font sizes, making it more tense to follow along.

I’ve always loved stories set in rural Japan, but all I’ve read that checked my boxes were set before the 2000s—before smartphones and other modern technologies.

The Summer Hikaru Died is set in contemporaneity and even then, you sometimes forget it. There are occasional shows of a smartphone, and even a mention of the Nintendo Switch, but the rural setting makes it so that feels useless.

When reading Higurashi (which is set in the 80s), I always thought “man, this wouldn’t have happened if they had smartphones” but reading this now, I realize that was a futile thought. Sure, they could use the GPS tracker in moments of panic, or call a friend, but in the moment of fear and paranoia, that could only aggravate a situation. Mokumokuren takes full advantage of that: someone sneaking a glance at a message notification they weren’t supposed to see; being too scared to grab the phone…

The horror elements here were only intensified by the creative use of the format!

The concept for this story by itself isn’t anything unique: things inhabiting our loved ones’ bodies isn’t a new thing. However, the way this trope is used to explore other fears and themes is where it stands out.

The exploration of sexuality mixed with feelings of guilt for both parties; the “what if” scenarios in Yoshiki’s mind that could have saved Hikaru; and the overall way being queer plays into society, especially one such as the rural community in Japan.

It’s not uncommon for queer people to have lost a friend or two, be it to mental health or an STD, and the way homossexuality is sometimes compared to an “illness” by the townfolk, I can see the being inside Hikaru as a personification of his feelings and desires, and how Yoshiki struggles to accept them and his own love.

The series isn’t over, but I strongly recommend checking it out.

The third (and latest) volume comes out in April 16th, and I’m super excited! From the cover alone, it may focus more on the minor cast, such as the group of school friends.

In summary: this is a fast-paced (but slow burn when it comes to the main relationship) horror story, more within the cosmic horror sub-genre. It has BL elements and I personally find it to be the main topic, even if it’s not explicit. If you enjoy these, go for it!

Even if you’re not a fan of BL, I find it interesting and subtle enough most times so even people who aren’t into BL can enjoy it, as long as you enjoy slow-burn horror.

I’ll give all my starts and love to this one, as it’s one of my personal favorites! I’m looking forward to more from mokumokuren!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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