#thanks so much rema!

[phantombre]

Hi. I know you have three voices designed so far

But I drew them :)

Hope you like it^^

Aaaaaaaaaa!!!

My boyos! My precious boyos! Now even more precious!

Where do I even begin? Your art style tickles a part of my brain that goes "eee". Tiny Hero man is just adorable. Absolutely fantastic. :)

This one especially:

Ahhh! It's so endearing! I totally see this happening!

I suppose I should have seen this coming, considering I drew all of your guys...

Oh, yeah. I started reading your "Little Voices" fic... Oh, the artistic inspirations...

(Btw, I don't know if this was intentional, but I read the first four chapters while listening to the game's soundtrack. Each vessel track syncs up perfectly with the corresponding cabin in your story. (Spectre for Cold's cabin, Tower for Broken's, etc.) Highly recommend this. Makes it more immersive.)

Also, don't worry. More voices are on the way. Just have to finalize the designs, then on to sketch. :)

[yoredoesmore]

The Regular | Hoshina Soshiro ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

pairing: hoshina soshiro x barista!reader

genre: romance/slight angst/ | [wc: 1,7k]

a/n: came up with the plot as i was writing away so i hope it makes sense :0 well, enjoy!

He was a regular at this point. He came in every Sunday at around the same time– his only day off you assumed, and ordered the exact same thing every visit.

Two Mont Blanc and a cup of black coffee.

The mysterious man would sit down at the exact same table where he always sat, wearing the usual, monotone expression on his face while waiting for his dessert. Sometimes he would carry a sports bag with him, sometimes he would come empty handed. You would catch him looking at you a few times, perhaps because he was checking to see if you were working on his order already.

Everyone knew him, even the other regulars, yet at the same time it seemed like people kept their distance from the individual. He did give off a mysterious and rather serious vibe. Like that one character in every book or movie who simply existed to assert some kind of calming effect on the audience. The staff, including you, believed that he wanted to be left alone thus everyone kept interactions to a minimum.

At some point the waiters didn't even check up on his table anymore to ask for his order. They would simply appear, place the two Mont Blanc and the coffee in front of him and carry on with their work.

But you didn't.

Not because you tried to stand out or make an extra tip by being interactive or friendly but simply because you believed that one day he would switch up on his order. But there was something else about him, something that made you feel drawn to him, urged you to interact as much as possible– be it a simple exchange of smiles or small words of gratitude.

It was a regular shift like always. Sundays were quiet and tranquil, with no soul disturbing the peace of the café. Being located in a more rural area of Tokyo had its ups and downs for a café yet you were immensely grateful for the quiet this area brought. Life has been treating you rather unwell lately and the least you needed was a busy workday. Especially your head injury has been acting up again but you tried to power through it. How long as it been since your last checkup? The effects of the surgery continued to bother you to this day but you were at least grateful that you were allowed to return back to work almost immediately! Any day longer at that hospital and you would have gone insane.

You spend most of your shifts cleaning up the pantries and making sure that everything, napkins, spoons and cups, were fully restocked– lightwork to put it simply, strictly ordered by your boss. The only other person on the shift with you took care of the orders and tables, just like today. It was empty enough for one person to handle the job but you were ready to jump in whenever your help was needed.

A subtle ringing of the bell above the door signaled that a new customer had entered the café. Your coworker stood behind the coffee machine, hands full taking care of a larger order, thus you took it upon yourself to guide the new customer to their seat.

“Good evening.” You smiled as your eyes fell on the all too familiar face of the mysterious regular.

“Please follow me to your table.” As always, his seat stood empty. The man mumbled a thank you and wasted no time in placing himself down on the leathery brown. Just as you were about to reach for your notebook you realized that it was not on your person anymore. A flush of embarrassment rushed through your face as you excused yourself from the table and told the man that you would be back in a second.

It's probably in the storage room..

You thought, recalling the image of you taking note of all the ingredients that had to be restocked. On your way back your coworker passed you by, stopping you temporarily in your steps.

“You don't need that with him.” He joked, pointing to the notebook and continued to walk past you. It was a playful remark, nothing more than a silly comment but it got you thinking.

“I apologize for my delay, sir. I'm ready to take your order now.”

His gaze rested on your figure for a while, subtly drinking in your image before he answered with a smile.

Despite not feeling well you tried your best to present yourself in a positive way. These costumers came to this café to rest and leave the worries of the day behind. There was no need to bother them with your personal problems or cause them worry.

Yet..it still felt like he was able to see right through your facade.

“A coffee please and two Mont Blanc.”

The usual..

You wrote down his order, earning another glance from him but you continued to stay by his table even after you finished scribbling.

“Can I offer you anything else? I– I mean we noticed you sticking to this particular order every time you visit. The staff of Third Division likes to keep a close eye on their regulars and..I was just wondering if you'd like to try something different maybe..”

Those words sounded different in your head, more welcoming and alluring. But the way his eyes were staring into yours, so intense that you felt like he was poking holes through your body, it caught you off guard. But nothing could have prepared you for what he did next.

He smirked.

The nonchalant expression he usually kept on his face throughout his entire stay dropped and what now graced his face was a smug grin.

“What can you recommend?” He teased.

Many emotions rushed through your system. Surprise, shock and confusion. Was this the first time you heard him talk? At best he would mumble a small thank you when paying the bill or when stating his order but personally that was the most you heard him say. His Kansai dialect was strong and present, it surprised you. Yet something about his voice felt warm, comforting even, as if it was meant to be listened to.

“Uhm..we have a great blueberry cheesecake, it's my favorite! And of course our lemon tarts or the pistachio croissants could really hit your spot since you like nuts so much..maybe the chocolate eclairs too..” Your mind began to drift towards all the items that were currently on sale. The dreamy look on your face earned you a chuckle from the man.

“I will take the blueberry cheesecake, since that's your favorite.”

“Coming right up!”

As if all stress was forgotten and a dark cloud was lifted from the sky, you cheerfully moved back to the counter, preparing the man's order. Upon seeing how busy you got your coworker approached you, eyes scanning over the cake you were carefully placing onto a nice plate.

“Who's that for?” He asked.

“Table number three.”

“Table number three..no way!” The man's gaze moved to the table in the distance, eyes widening twice their size.

A sense of pride rushed through your body. It was something so silly to get excited over yet delivering this cake made you happy, jolly even, in some kind of way.

“One blueberry cheese cake, enjoy.” And without any more interference in his stay you let the man be. Your eyes did move over to his side every now and then, making sure that he was enjoying the food you recommended him but eventually you were so busy with your workload that you lost sight of the customer.

And when you returned from your short bathroom break you noticed that his seat stood empty.

“He just left.” Was all your coworker said, also heavily occupied with new orders.

“But he did leave this.” Holding out your hands you let your coworker drop the small item into your grip. It was a napkin. No time was wasted in unfolding the soft tissue.

That blueberry cheesecake was great! But nothing compares to the Mont Blanc and the memories it brings ╮(─▽─)╭

Still, I appreciate your effort. Keep working hard and see you next time!

A tingling sensation engulfed your heart as you read the note. Maybe it was the silly little drawing he added or him simply appreciating your effort but it had you feeling a certain way. So without thinking much you grabbed a small box, stuffed it with the two Mont Blanc and rushed out of the store, leaving a confused coworker behind.

“Excuse me!” You almost yelled out, your feet trying their best to catch up with the man. He looked just as perplexed as you when he turned around. And..worried?

“Are you al–”

“I didn't mean to mess up your routine..I'm very sorry.” You held out the small box, arms outstretched while your gaze laid on your feet. No reply followed your words, his eyes simply resting on your shaking hands but soon enough you felt a weight pull at the packet.

“It's not just about the Mont Blancs.” His fingers graced over yours as he took the box.

“Despite me ordering the same thing over and over again you continue to attentively take my order..I guess you could say that I enjoy that kind of attention.” His chuckle caused your heart to throb and skip a beat.

A strong heat creeped over your face, eyes moving into all directions simply to avoid his. But just like always, his gaze stayed strongly fixated on you.

“I will always take your order..so please keep visiting us.” Turning on your heels you waved the man goodbye and returned to the café, your smile enough to illuminate the entire street.

Hoshina smiled and waited for you to disappear into the building before he sighed. His eyes followed you attentively, never leaving your figure. Seeing you in such active motions, it filled his heart with both joy and worry.

It felt like it happened just yesterday, the incident. It was a Sunday like this one, unassuming and calm. But you don't remember most of it, just like you don't remember him. The Kaiju attack, the ambulance, his teary eyes watching you being taken into the emergency room– you don't remember how he always stayed by your side no matter what.

It was absurd of him to think that you would eventually get your memories of him back if he just kept ordering the same thing over and over again, if he kept eating the dessert you two used to make together right in front of you. Perhaps he was a hopeless guy, with the silly dream of getting his old girlfriend back, the woman who owned his heart.

You still did. There was no one who could fit the hole that your body molded. If you can't remember the time and memories you two shared he would simply create new memories with you and make you fall for him all over again.

No matter how much time it was going to take

[kurogxrix]

Charm’

Footballer!E-42 Miles Morales x reader

IN WHICH despite the amount of fame and fangirls that your footballer boyfriend Miles receives, he never fails to remind them that he’s yours and yours only at the end of the day.

A/N: this is a rushed ass wip that i wanted to finish, so don’t expect much😭

The yelling and high-pitched crying has been going on for a solid minute now, and the red carpet laid between the crowd control barriers has yet to be occupied. It was always this way, fans crying out their love to Miles before the man could even leave the building, then yelling some more as the poor man simply walked down the short hall to reach the comfort of the black limousine that was always awaiting him 20 minutes before his appearance.

From behind the shut doors, a suited Miles was mentally preparing himself for his entrance. If he had known that this was the reality of fame, he would’ve never signed the contract in the first place. Though who is he even kidding, anybody would have taken the chance to play for their favourite football team if they could. Hell, he would’ve signed the contract for any team at this point, it was his childhood dream to play in a professional football club - and he was sure that it was many other kids’ dream as well.

Miles couldn’t help but close his eyes for reassurance, begging for his mind to concentrate on anything else but the uproar behind the closed doors that stood just a few metres away from him. Clouded by awe, the obvious first thing that his mind could find to distract himself was you. Lord, he even had to run a hand down his hair to stop his thoughts from running too far. 

You and Miles had been together for 3 years now, that was 2 years before he got signed in the team, and one year into his famous days. Sometimes he’d wake up and raise his head towards the sky to utter a prayer, thanking a god that he didn’t believe in for having you stay by his side despite the ups and downs. 

Miles walked towards the nearest body mirror, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he did so. He made sure to check himself out one last time to see if he looked presentable, he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave the building with a crumpled suit, that wouldn’t look good on the photos now would it?

As Miles neared the exit again, a familiar tune caught his attention from beyond the closed doors. A melody that he could recognize from millions of others, one that he’d stay up relistening to with you past midnight as you both failed to fall asleep. The hypnotising voice that would fill his playlist beyond the never ending lists of rap songs, Rema.  

Miles shut his eyes for a split second, reliving all the singing and laughing-filled moments shared between the both of you as this song played in the background. Taking a final deep breath, Miles finally grounded himself enough to push past the doors. It didn’t even take a millisecond for the roaring of fangirls to erupt, and his foot had yet to even step ground on the outside of the building. 

The camera flashes didn’t wait for him either, blinding him before he even had the chance to step foot on the carpet. Miles would beg to accept that he was used to it now, he’d love to say that he had gotten used to it now after a year of living through it. Though he’d be a liar to admit so, and everything just feels so overwhelming. 

Nevertheless, the striking smile on his face never faltered, and he looked cunning to the very eye. He stood there unmoving for a couple of seconds, letting the cameras capture every good angle of his before they swarm him on the carpet. Miles can’t help his eyes from trailing into the crowd. The very same brown iris widening at the sight, unable to help the deep chuckle that escapes within him. 

A swarm of women, including a couple of men, yelling at his name. Some of them have hefty signs that are raised up for him to see, and he laughs at the outrageous things that are written on them. Their confidence blows at Miles, how in hell can anyone go out in public while holding a sign filled with such filth. It makes him shiver at the fact that those things are written about him, but a warm smile makes way to his face as he skims through the “I Love You” ones. 

He too, loves his fans as much as they adore him. Even through the rather explicit messages that they leave him, he loves them throughout. Beyond the hate that he inevitably received after becoming a public face, Miles must admit that the love is much rewarding. It soothes a piece of his heart that has been tainted by the stress of being a footballer, and it’s even better when he catches children looking up to him with a miniature version of his jersey on. It envelopes his heart with a warmth that he can’t even grasp. 

A sudden movement strays from the others, and it catches Miles' attention. If it wasn’t for the blinding flashes of the paparazzi and the thousands of screeching fans, he would’ve definitely noticed the limousine waiting for him at the end of the line, but he feels his heart stammer as the driver delicately opens the back door. 

Sure, on the outside, Miles’ may resemble a stoic guy. His resting bitch face does his kind heart little justice, and the two fine braids that accompany his fade just boosts his intimidating look. On the inside, Miles feels his heart pounding uncontrollably at the sight of you waiting in the ride for him. You’re  seated at the other side of the open door, keeping a place for him besides you. 

A small smile rises on Miles' face, and a wicked idea brews in the back of his head. He walks a bit faster towards his car, confusing the cameramen and the people that are throwing themselves above the bars just to get a touch of this man. However, when he reaches the car, you’re shocked when he motions for you to grab onto his hand.

Sure, yours and Miles’ relationship was never kept at bay from anyone. You’d been with him since before his fame, and he’d be a loser to keep you in the dark now that he was famous, with your consent of course. It wasn’t unusual that Miles’ would often get questions about you during interviews, and you’d often find yourself smiling at the TV as you watched him answer them with pride. 

Though this was different. You’d never accompanied him out to events, yet alone on a carpet walk. It had nothing to do with Miles but all with you, you weren't all the shy on a usual, but  almost afraid of the camera’s. You’d seen the way they’d flash attack your boyfriend from behind the closed car windows, and sometimes you feared that they’d end up snapping a shitty picture of you, post it and then you’d get burnt on the internet.

The web wasn’t a nice place and you knew it, plus with the thousands and jealousy-infected women out there, you just knew that the things they’d say were going to be more than nasty. Though as you watched Miles’ ‘there’s no pressure’ smile and his soft hand reaching out to you, you decided to push those fears away. 

“Hey ma,” Miles spoke softly to you, the charm in his voice unavoidable as he stared straight into your eyes. It was hard to only stare into those eyes of yours, because once Miles had helped you out of the car, he couldn’t help but notice just how stunning you were on this night. Not that you weren't usually eye-catching, he believed that you were the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth, though something about this newfound confidence just made you so much more attractive.

“hey..” You were clad in a skintight, dark blue dress that had been gifted to you by none other than Miles. He’d smooth talk you through the “here’s a beautiful dress for a beautiful girl”, in all of his sap. The opera gloves were just as dark as the dress, and the light reflecting off of it gave the blue colour its stunning shine. Miles was enamoured by you, his brown iris unable to leave your form as you stood on your Smiling Melody platform heels. 

Miles loves everything about this moment, from the way you dressed so chique despite your sole aim tonight being to pick up Miles from here before dipping back home. He loved how extra you were, always urging to be the best dressed even if it was for a supermarket trip. Miles loved how that shy smile of yours never left your face as you continued to stare at him. 

The chorus of cheers from behind the both of you broke you out of your trance, and finally, you collected the courage to turn around and face everyone. Miles’ warm palm found a home within your lower back, and the comforting presence of it was enough to ground you. You knew that he was looking at you with that lovesick expression of his, you didn’t even need to glance up at him to be sure. 

The middle of the carpet found you well, and an unfamiliar feeling surged in your chest at the sight of so many people. So many cameras and so many eyes fixed towards you, like your place didn’t belong next to your boyfriend that stood right besides you. Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, there were too many things to look at and too many things to concentrate on. It was overwhelming. 

But through your concerns, Miles just knew how to appease your thoughts. 

Ending the night with Miles kissing you before the very cameras was not how you had expected things to go. In fact, you were sure that he’d angled the both of you to face them, instead of trying to shy away. He didn’t want to hide you, and he wasn’t. The excessively loud roar that broke the crowd once more now fell pridefully to his ears. 

He wanted to show you off to the world, show these people around the  globe that they stood no chance besides you. He wanted the images to hit the news, be the main title of next week's People magazine. Miles’ wanted nothing more than having these girls holding up those outrageous signs to go back home with disappointment swarming their chests as they realise that he’ll only ever be with you, as mean as it sounds. 

You didn’t either expect the night ending up with you and Miles unable to keep your hands off of each other during the ride back home, him whispering all sorts of blarney talk into your ears as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, but that’d be a magazine-cover drama for another week. 

For now, you’d enjoy your giggle-filled ride back home as you both unceasingly requested for the chauffeur to replay the previous song. And amidst his annoyance, he had no other choice than to bother each time the song ended to press backwards on the limousine’s tactile screen. The music was a little too loud for his taste, but that’d be something that you could care about tomorrow morning. For now, you’d be too busy enjoying the tunes of Rema’s Charm with Miles to bother about anything else. 

-

IK there’s not much actual footballer!miles but this is just some sort of intro to the AU, if i choose to continue it…

[asfodeltide]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, it's only at a quarter of the goal. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

Yes, I can! Thank you for bringing this to my attention!

I've donated £30 – can someone match me?

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

i'm begging you for some Keegan angst🙏🏼 like perhaps he and his s/o get split up during an ambush; their s/o goes MIA and when they're finally found, they're badly injured,,, something like that. maybe some fluff/comfort at the end

happy holidays!🎊

Laughing Poets

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity. How will Keegan react when he realizes that he has to leave you behind?

Word Count: 10.8k

Warning: Angst, fluff, blood & gore, torture, Keegan calls you 'Kid' a lot, happy ending

A/N: This was supposed to be done about two days ago but I decided I hated it so I re-wrote the last half (might have switched a few things around). Enjoy, Anon, and thanks for the request. Also, not quite sure on the exact characterization of Keegan yet but I'm getting there. Slowly.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity; so much so that it splattered the far wall of the decrepit house. At that moment, as you felt all the air being expelled from your lungs in a shuttering gasp, you could see poets from the long-gone Romantic Era scratching at thin paper with an ink-stained quill, laughing. Their charcoal-stained fingers would twitch as they write out your life with a furrowed brow, bathed in candlelight, and would smile as they slashed their signature at the bottom.

Would the poem of your life end so quickly?

Your head slams to the ground, white light erupting from behind your eyes as you try and suck back enough air just enough to be able to scream in agony. Molten heat is tearing you apart, peeling back nerves; breaking bone, and slashing past muscle with an inexhaustible surety. Dropping the modified AX-50 from your grip, the black and grey metal slams to the ground with a defining clatter as your ears ring with lightning. In the back of your mind, you hear the glass of its Thermal Duel Power Scope shatter into a million tiny pieces.

Shit, you had just gotten that from Kick a week ago. 

It was strange – the repercussions of your actions were happening all around you, but it felt like it was a world away as realization set in. You’d gotten shot? How? You got shot?! 

You wished your pitiful existence was worthy of a poem, truth be told; that it was worth more than the crimson that leaks from your left shoulder to the old, cracked, wooden ground. But that was never the case. 

Your body writhes and you wail out, head jerking back and forth in a primal display. 

You had chosen this life, whether by your own need for revenge or the sense of duty…you knew not. And now you would pay for it. 

Nobody knew you were hit, because you hadn’t told anyone through the comms, but there was also the fact that you were never meant to be this far out anyways. Merrick had fucking warned you this would happen if you stalked off on your own again, but as always, you had chosen the stubborn route. When you had seen this run-down shack of a house with a perfect vantage point, it made that predatory part of your brain sing with a need to hike to it – nestled right in between an outcropping of trees and overgrown vines atop a hill. With the threat of Federation soldiers in the war-torn town below, it was a God-send. You controlled it. You were master here.

Like a bird, Keegan would tell you, striding past, you just can’t resist a good perch, can you, Kid? 

The thing is, your Ghost Team shouldn't know you’re injured out here, but soon enough as you frantically try and grasp at your decimated shoulder with burning tears in your eyes and a gaping mouth, a stiff voice wavers through the static of your radio. The blood pools from you like an overturned ink well and your face pulls back in a desperate snarl.

The sound of gunfire was still raging hundreds of miles down into the remains of what was once the outskirts of San Diego but is now known as No Man’s Land. 

“Kid,” Keegan’s voice plays along your ears, but you’re too busy trying to force yourself up, blood hacked up from your mouth as you let out a strangled, no, “Where’d your scope go? Ajax needs cover fire two clicks to the west. Eyes up. No time for foolin’ around.”

Your skin is peeled back, and your flesh is infected with bits of your shirt and padded vest fabric inside the wound itself – like bugs crawling all over. You don’t want to think about the exit wound. The bullet had come from another sniper farther in the city, and, you knew, you were lucky you had survived the shot at all just on that fact alone. In your case, when you pulled the trigger, you rarely missed a killing blow. 

That was probably why Elias Walker had approached you in the first place – your kill count for Federation soldiers was off the charts, even with how young you were. Not quite a Ghost in full, but something in the middle; nearly there but not quite. You had to earn the mask first. Ajax liked to call you Greenhorn, but Merrick was more prone to Rookie. Kick was rarely out of his lab, so he didn’t call you much of anything. But Keegan…

“Blue Jay?” Keegan’s voice once more wafts out into the burning air, “Sitrep. Now.” 

“Keegan, push forward,” Merrick cuts through the channel and his heavy tone fills the house just as you begin to drag yourself across the floor. The echoes of the gun battle reverberate over the hills, “They’re boxing us in! Move, move, move!”  

You collapse against an overturned and broken coffee table with shaking limbs and tear-stained cheeks, struggling to find a good enough hold to press down on the wound as crimson leaks from between your fingers. A lung-shuttering gasp exits the flesh of your lips right before a burning makes itself known in the back of your throat. Not able to stop yourself, bile is forced all the way from your stomach, making a trail up your esophagus and finally pooling in your mouth. Gagging, you reel forward onto one hand and release the contents of Keegan’s ration bar from lunch back into the earth, watching the liquid concoction pool onto the ground that has grass whisps sneaking in from between the floorboards. Seeing that, and barking out another wail as long ropes of crimson drip down from your limp arm, you throw up once more. Everything is on fire. 

“When…when Ajax said getting shot felt like your skin was being flayed,” You groan, head starting to feel light-headed, “I thought he was just joking.” 

The sound of your agony-drowned voice brought a sense of urgency into your rapidly fading psyche. 

“Apply pressure,” Merrick’s imaginary voice in your head makes you straighten your spine – like he was a little angel on your shoulder hitting you with a newspaper. You call-back the memory of the Ghost as he was going over medical procedures a month back, “If your hand slips, you die, and I'm not carrying your limp body back to the Fort like a fucken’ sack of potatoes. No one can respond better than yourself in this type of high-risk situation, you understand? Panic is not an option in No Man's Land and if you think it is, you have no right being here...Make a tourniquet; tie it off, and wait for backup. Here, Rookie, practice on Keegan.” 

Doing the best you can with only one functioning arm, your fingers twitch as you card them clumsily over the pouches on your chest. Finding the velcro of your medical bag, you whine as you rip it open, flesh so sensitive that even the rough fabric of your own property is grating to feel. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you tell yourself, you most likely would have already passed out.

Ripping out the roll of medical gauze and praying you had enough, your shaking hand travels to your right shoulder, not even noticing the hurried conversations and screaming orders over the comms. 

Make a tourniquet, You think to yourself, grunting out into the air when you have to move your arm into position. The entire limb was stained red, liquid dripping off your nonresponsive fingers to the floor. What if you never regained the function of your arm again? Your thoughts were running. What if you could never shoot your rifle all because you felt the need to go too far on your own? To prove yourself?

The thoughts scared you more than you liked to admit. This life was everything to you – pushing back against the Federation, who had taken so much from you, and being alongside the Ghosts. It was what you had worked so hard for. 

Then fight for it, You don’t know why Keegan’s smooth voice comes to you at that moment, but as you pull the gauze so tight around your open wound you scream and see stars; nearly keeling over as well, it brings forward a steely determination, Don’t expect everything on a silver platter, Kid. But then again, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know that.

“Fucking hell,” Face contorted with unmatched distress, you suck down breaths and let the gauze soak up your life; blood in deep puddles already seeping through, “I need to move – t-tell the others…”

“Blue Jay’s not responding,” Keegan speaks over the static of the comms channel, “I’m doubling back.” 

Your functioning hand latches onto the radio, weak fingers slipping for a moment as your body sways forward. Struggling, you stumble to your feet and steady yourself on the termite-eaten wall near the window. You peak out and try to spot the enemy sniper with wheezing breath and a sweat-flooded forehead. 

Pressing down on the radio to speak, you’re appalled by how hard the simple act was. 

Am I dying? 

“Don’t Keegan – in order to break the line you’ll need everyone to be there,” You have to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, “I’m spotting twelve tangos near the storage facility. Merrick, I’d suggest taking a left and circling the flank.”

Merrick responds, “Good eyes, Rookie. Ajax, on my six!”

Your vision swirls, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath and splay your legs shoulder length apart so you don’t fall forwards. You pointedly avoid look at your wound.

“You want to explain why you weren’t responding?” Keegan’s voice is stern, hiding an edge somewhere in its tone that you choose not to acknowledge, “This isn’t a game!” On a far-off building, you spy a glint, making your attention snap to it like a cat and a mouse—sniper scope. 

There’s that Bastard, Your fingers twitch with hatred, glossy and tear-clogged eyes narrowing. If you had the ability to shoot right now…

A bullet nearly takes your head off, splintering the frame of the window before lodging into the floor.

“Shit!” You yell, reeling back; forgetting for a moment you were on the open channel.

“Greenhorn, what’s going on over there?” Ajax finally graces the line, “You doing something stupid again?” You don’t know why you hesitate…why you’re so cautious to reveal to them that–

“That’s it,” Keegan snarls, “I’m going to your position.”

You shake your head, your mind so jostled that you don’t say anything for a moment until you realize that no one can see you.

“I took a bullet to my right shoulder.” You concede, voice low with self-hatred, “Clean through, nothing to worry about, just won’t be able to cover anyone…C-can’t feel my arm.” 

The line goes dark for a moment, and as you listen to your own ragged breathing that leaves you more hunched over the longer you stand up, it suddenly explodes. A cold shiver travels down your spine; sweat drips from your nose. Your eyelashes flutter.

“What the hell do you mean you got hit!?”

“Son of a Bitch, Rookie, give us your position, now. We’re pulling back.”

“No!” You yell, growling, and shaking your head, “This is a key location to taking back San Diego – there are vantage points, cover, hell, even weapons caches left over from before the war in one of the military bases. We need to secure this town. I’m fine!” But they weren’t listening, even if everything you were saying made sense. 

They can’t ruin the operation over one person, You told yourself, heart pumping a mile-a-minute, No one I’ve worked with has ever done that before and the Ghosts sure as Hell shouldn’t be the first. These guys were Special Operations before ODIN destroyed half the US – they know better.

But you were forgetting one critical detail. The Ghosts aren’t just any other team; they care about their own perhaps even more than the missions they get sent on. 

But I’m not one of them, You grunt to yourself, letting your eyes close and knocking your head back into the wall behind you. The fact makes you want to cry, but you’re forced to acknowledge the sore spot later. 

God, your arm felt like it was being burned to a crisp. You grunt and grit your teeth as another wave goes through you.

“How long ago did you get hit!?” Keegan barks and the sound of shouting from below your perch momentarily increases.

“I..” You try and think. How long had it been? More than seven minutes couldn’t have passed. 

“Answer me!” 

“F-fuck, I don’t know! Four-five minutes ago!” Yelling makes your head throb, a deep booming that echoes like a drum in your consciousness. 

The door to the house squeaks as it opens. 

Eyes snapping to the wall that separates the living room from the foyer, your voice cuts out immediately. Keegan was fast – lethally fast – but the town below your perch was at least a few miles, this was because your AX-50 was specialized at long-distance shots. It would be no good in the heat of an ongoing ground battle. I mean, hell, it only held seven shots; even with the modifications you had added on by yourself. 

The person who had opened the door wasn’t a Ghost.

And that meant they were your enemy.

Doing the best you can to move stealthily, you unclip the combat knife from your belt and listen with bated breath as you slink over to the doorway. You hate the way your hand shakes as it holds the hilt but revel in the fact that your left arm is numb enough to not cause you to bellow out. Holding your breath, you lean against the barrier on your good shoulder and bring the blade up near your chin. 

There are hesitant footsteps that shake the fragile frame of the building, and you feel the reverberations travel up your feet and make your skin shiver. Goosebumps form along your arms. 

Creeeek, crack-clack

The floorboards squeal like a stuck pig, the old boards splintering off as an unseen assailant’s feet cautiously move through the house. The sound of heavy breathing comes closer, nearing the doorway to the room you say stone-still in. 

Your radio flares to life.

“Rookie–” It only takes a moment, but Merrick’s voice is the signature at the end of your poem; whatever you would have heard from the man was lost. 

A Federation soldier dressed in camo and grasping a shotgun rampages around the corner. 

—

Keegan knows he’s too late when he sees the run-down visage of the shack with its front door open.

I taught her never to leave the doors behind her ajar. 

The Ghost had been training you for months – taking you somewhat under his wing, albeit reluctantly. Elias was clear when he gathered everyone together, train her to be like us. And they had all done just that, Keegan more harshly than anyone, but that wasn’t to say you were untalented. 

The stoic Ghost had yet to see a more talented sniper than himself, but you came in as a close second. You were the perfect asset, able to stay back when everyone else went in. You were the cover, the master behind the curtain that clears a path with a pull of a trigger. The Ghosts owed many missed nicks and scrapes to you and your calls. So when Keegan had heard you stop answering over the comms; not responding to Ajax’s hurried quips…

Keegan’s heart hammers as he ascends the front steps overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, the Honey Badger Assault Rifle held white-knuckled in his grip. As if on autopilot, the man switches the safety off and enters, face behind the fabric of his balaclava. The contorted visage of the white paint over the front created quite the nightmare and paired with the black eyepaint Keegan could only be compared to a beast. 

The slight clinking of the rope hook tied to his waist and the metallic bit and bobs in his vest was the only sounds he made, the years upon years of perfection ingrained into the way he breathed; the press of his feet to the floor. Keegan would only allow someone to hear him if he wanted them to, even if he was the size of a boar.

His cerulean eyes flicker down the hallway, but nothing moved beside the stale wind – smelling only dirt and…

Blood, Keegan’s nose twitches, eyes narrowing. The man tries to ignore the way his heart picks up pace.  

Had he really grown so attached to you that he would forsake his teammates to come and check on your situation? Perhaps the stupidest thing he could do to himself was begin to enjoy your presence. But that didn’t change the fact that you were his responsibility, and in the back of his mind there was a nagging concern. 

He had grown to care for you, and that was unexceptable.  

Keegan enters the living room with his rifle held ahead of him, scanning the room for tangos before he lowers it. Empty. 

And then he sees the remnants of a struggle. Head going back and forth the Ghost follows a trail of gore along the floor, an explosion of crimson over the wall behind him, and feels his chest rumble in a growl over the image of a broken AX-50. His breath stills.

The metal was dented, and the scope shattered, leaving glass over the ground like marbles. Keegan felt a dangerous heat enter his blood, eyes flashing; a specific type of rage growing in his gut and twisting his intestines. 

“Where are you, Kid?” He mutters, fingers flexing over the trigger of his weapon. Where did you go? His throat tightens, lips thin. Merrick’s voice comes over the radio with a hard edge.

“Keegan, sitrep. How’s our girl doing? Evac is on its way and we’re pulling back. Getn’ pretty hot over here.” Keegan takes a moment before rushing over to your signature weapon, letting his own fall against his chest and bounce off his vest. Grasping the gun you worshiped by the blue strap, his eyes go along its long body, spying the custom modifications and intricate detailing over the stock. Tiny Blue Jays are scratched and covered in crimson; the colors faded.

You had painted it yourself when Keegan had taken a liking to referring to you by the callsign, and he had never really had the chance to look at it until now. Staring at it for a moment longer, his thumb lightly swipes away a droplet of blood, letting one of the birds once more be visible. Keegan swings the rifle over his back and feels the heaviness of it – the weight of the customizations and the top-grade material. This was your pride and joy along his back, moving with every flex of his shoulders with the barrel hitting the back of his knee. 

He carried it was a sort of reverence; a delicateness that was never connected to his name.

She’d never leave this behind without a fight. 

Keegan’s tense fingers go to his radio, eyebrows pulling in and eyes emotionless. But the stubble shake of his hand makes him want to punch someone. Whoever had done this to you would pay.

“Blue Jay’s gone.” He states, monotone, “House is empty with signs of a struggle.” 

The man turns back to the doorway, glass crunching under his feet, and walks back out into the hallway. 

“What do you mean ‘gone,’ man?” Ajax butts in, and over the comms the sound of bullets hitting metal creates a ringing sound, “She’ll bleed out!” 

“Move!” Merrick’s voice sizzles out as a grenade goes off, and the line cuts for a moment as Keegan nonchalantly comments, 

“All good?” 

“We’re taking heavy fire. Without the girl’s backup, we can’t stay here – Ajax and I are heading to the Evac point and’ll draw their attention into the woods. Find that damn kid, Sergeant.” 

“On it, Sir.” Keegan releases the device on his vest and turns his hidden head. He sweeps the rest of the shack with a heavy weight on his shoulders, taking notice of a constant trail of blood throughout the hallway. With every moment passing the weight of the situation settles in his gut.

“C’mon Kid,” He whispers, voice gruff, until he finally goes to the busted-down back door and finds the body. 

It was laying face down in a bed of wild grass, a thin breeze moving its shirt sleeves. A shotgun lays a few feet from the corpse, surrounded by old rubble and a small downed treetrunk; it was still smoking, dark metal caressed by dirt. Keegan rushes over, taking in the motionless branches of the forest and the knife still lodged in the Federation soldier’s head. 

Tapping the man with his foot, the Ghost goes to grab the blade by the hilt and rip it out. Hearing the shink of metal separating from flesh and feeling the spray of blood over his tactical glove. 

Just as he feared, the knife belonged to him. His body coils.  

Keegan had given it to you after you lost your own on the last mission, the black blade a perfect match to the one currently sitting on his waist. He had wanted it back, but you had teased and asked what if I needed it in the future with a raised eyebrow and body leaning into Ajax who sat next to you. Begrudgingly, Keegan had deadpanned and said he expected you to return it after you found a replacement. But you had just smiled at him, lips pulling back into a bright display and wrinkled eyes. Your face had glowed in the daylight, shadows disappearing and the heavy bags everyone was sporting under their eyes vanishing on yours. Keegan had felt his chest hitch, even if outwardly he remained as stoic as always, and that was it.

The man had dropped the conversation and had never asked for the blade back. In fact, something had swirled in Keegan’s gut the next time he saw his knife strapped to your waist, the band holding the hilt tight against you and bunching your shirt up. It was pathetic, Keegan admitted when he had frozen at the sight at the time, legs jerking, but seeing something of his own on your body had made his heart go wild; eyes so obviously boring into you that your cheeks had gained a sheen of embarrassment that day. Keegan had stalked away, unable to admit to himself that something was going in inside of him that he had no control over.

That was the point of no return, he realized. The overturned inkwell onto the thin parchment. 

You were the poet and him the words in your head, using him without a clue. 

“Fuck,” He growls, gripping the knife so tightly it digs into his gloves and hurts the flesh inside. His head turns to the forest, burning eyes roving for any sign of you even as a strike of pride filters through him. Injured and disoriented, you had taken down a man two times your size with only his knife and your wits. Now that really got his blood pumping.

Besides a thin trail of blood drops over the grass, leading far into the tree line, you had all but disappeared. Keegan’s heart was pounding, ready to run in after you.

She couldn’t have gotten far, especially not with a wound like she described. I’ll catch up. I have to.

“Keegan we need you at the Evac point, ASAP!” Ajax screams, voice strained, “Else we’re going to be coming home in body bags, man!” 

“I don’t have Blue Jay yet–”

“There’s no time,” Merrick yells out, and Keegan hears the whizz of bullets from over the line, “Federation soldiers are storming us – get here now! Or you’re getting left behind. That’s an order, Sergeant!” 

She won’t survive, Keegan tells himself, forcing down the mucus in his throat, not by herself. 

Ghosts don’t leave their own behind. Merrick undoubtedly planned to return when the heat was off them; send a recon force to the area to look for signs of life. Keegan clenched his fists, eyes dead as they stare off into the trees and expansive foliage. This area was notorious for its high cliffs and steep dropoffs – one wrong move and everything was over in an instant. The earthquakes were worse. Ever since ODIN was fired the tremors had been constant. 

The odds weren’t in your favor even without adding in a possibly fatal wound.

Keegan takes a step forward, inching closer to the treeline unconsciously with firm feet. 

“Keegan – do you trust her!?” 

“What?” Merrick’s loud comment had shaken Keegan, making him freeze; eyes wide. He was only one step into the wild, perhaps only one step closer to finding you. Did he trust you? What kind of question was that? The woman who always fooled around with Ajax, pushed Marrick’s buttons to a point the man had begun to respect you? Blue Jay, who always made a point to bring Keegan into conversations and try to get him to smile at her – carrying herself with elegant confidence? 

Did he trust you? How does one even describe trust? After everything that’s happened, could he place his trust in someone else other than his Ghost brothers? Keegan’s jaw clenches, head looking back and forth before slowly going to sneak a peak at the body behind him. His chest tightened. 

He already had an answer, but found that he couldn’t say it aloud. 

Apparently, the moment of silence gave his friends what they needed.

“Then get your ass back here! The sooner we have a chance to regroup we’re comin’ back and gettin’ her. Rookie knows what she’s doing…we’ve given her every lesson we could. It’s up to her for a while.”

“Trust in her, Keegan” Ajax chimes, “Just as she trusts you.”

Keegan turns his back to the forest, hearing every step of his feet over the ground as they carry him away from you. 

“Copy.”

The words are firm, but the ink of them bleeds.

—

You wake up chained to the ceiling, shoes gone, and socked feet dangling over the floor. Blood from a new gash on your head trails over your right eye and leaves the already flickering movement of your eyelashes more constant as the liquid dribbles to your tense jaw in a steady flow.

It had happened so fast – far faster than your already addled mind could have comprehended. A group of Federation soldiers had been camping out in the woods and had sent only one of their men into the shack you had deemed too far out of the way for any up-close confrontation; the rest had stayed and waited. The minute your back was too close to the tree line after you had lodged Keegan’s blade into the lone man’s skull, they had grabbed you. 

Apparently, they dragged me back into town, too, You growled to yourself, how could I be so dumb?! 

The only upside of this situation was that in order to question you they had to keep you alive long enough to get you to speak. Already the heavy padding over your numb left shoulder calls to you like a siren song; the dichotomy of the position you were in almost made you laugh. The Federation soldiers had you hooked up to the ceiling like a butchered pig but took the time to dress your wound so you wouldn’t bleed out. 

You wiggle your fingers, the lack of circulation already leaving the top half of your body tingly. Next, your feet. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you’ve been drugged, because the words from your head seem to spill from your lips unprompted and the pain of your situation is dull; muted.

“Hell,” Your voice is loud, tone slurred, and rough. Oh yeah, definitely high off something, “If you wanted to tie me up you could have just asked me!” 

Opening your eyes as full as you can, you look around weakly and lock onto rusted metal walls and a set of large warehouse doors. 

“You brought me to the warehouse? How stupid could you be?” You say aloud, twisting your neck around before the clinking of chains stops you, “Isn’t this near the old logging company? This is close to the edge of the town! If I wanted to escape I’d be gone in five seconds.”

Your drugged snickering echoes off the walls, bouncing back at you mockingly. Soon enough footsteps sound off from beyond the closed door, many, many feet marching down an unseen hallway. You smile, thinking, finally, and hear the blood from your head drip to the floor every other second. The warehouse door slides open with a shriek and your vision blinks out, black momentary shrouding you before it filters back. 

Three men enter the room, all dressed in the black and gray camo of the Federation – straps and combat vest so similar to your Ghosts that in your state you confuse the two. They even wore black balaclavas and the one in the middle is a similar build to your Sergeant, tall, and built like a damn bear.

“Keegan?” You whisper, head tilting to rest on your strained arms as your eyebrows pull in before sparks of pain fly. Was that…you have to shake your head, skull suddenly burning. No. There’s a thin moment of clarity before that haze re-settles. 

This isn’t right. That is not my Keegan. Not my Ghosts.

The middle man leads the other two at his sides, nodding his head behind him and the door begins to close; the others peel off and go to guard the entrance, leaving you and the man to have a conversation semi-alone. 

He stops a few feet from you, eyes a deep brown and boring into your body. Your lips pull back.

“There are more simple ways to question someone besides stringing them up, man.” Your sentence cracks halfway through, but you don’t notice. 

The man just stares, tilting his head to the side. After a moment of eye contact, he speaks.

“You are not a Ghost.” His voice is accented – Spanish is most likely his first language.

“Yeah, trust me,” You groan, head once more pulsing. Your feet shimmy over the ground, toes lightly brushing the concrete, “No one’s more fucked up about that than I am. I train my ass off–” 

A sold punch is landed to your gut, tossing your body back as the chains above you squeal. The air is expelled from your lungs in a series of deep coughs, lungs rattling as spittle flies from your lips, you feel your organs shake inside of you. It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath and dispel the sledgehammer blow, but already the man is talking when the bulk of your panting has barely slowed.

“You are going to tell me a way into Fort Santa Monica,” He pulls a knife from his waistband and takes a step forward, putting the blade directly on your right side. Your clothes crease where the tip presses and needle-like sparks fly from your flesh, “Or I will have to ring the answer from you like water in a rag.”

With a pounding heart, your mouth runs unprompted, “Ghosts don’t break, asshat. And I may not be one of them, but I certainly know that I won’t let my boys down.” 

What the hell did they give you? Keegan had warned you to never say too much when captured. Don’t make ‘em angry unless you want a reminder of the power they have at that moment. But it wasn’t like you could help it anymore–

The blade sinks through hot flesh, and inside the warehouse, a high-pitched scream flows outside; scattering birds and beasts alike. 

This continues for three long days. 

—

Keegan was stone-still as Elias bend over the meeting table, a map of the town and surrounding forest where you had gone missing spread out. Everyone was silent, and Keegan has to shuffle his feet to reduce the tension in his thighs and shoulders; his hands tighten over his chest. Ajax is the first to speak over the tense air as Merrick repeatedly itches at the skin of his bald scalp from where he stands behind a chair.

“We have to move,” The Ghost growls, and when no one responds Ajax hits a closed fist to the table, “soon, Elias.”

The slam echoes over the room, bouncing off the walls.

“Ajax,” The man in question shakes his head, “What we need to do is think this through. Form a proper plan and carry it out with more intel.” 

Elias pulls back to his full height but Keegan’s eyes stay locked on the map, flicking mutely over the marks and topography. 

It’s been three days, He tells himself, She’s probably dead by now. The files already have her labeled as MIA.

Under his balaclava, his jaw clenches in feral denial. Why did the thought of that fact make him want to go out and search for you himself, regardless of Elias’s sound logic? You couldn’t be dead. Missing was better than that – missing meant he could find you.

Perhaps it was the same emotion that had given him a sinking feeling when, two days ago, the entire Ghost Team had gone back out to the forest under the cover of darkness to search for you. All Keegan had found was the footsteps of multiple Federation soldiers and signs of one of them dragging something heavy behind his back. 

It was obvious what had happened, and as he had slowly turned his head down to the town lit up by spotlights, the only thing that had stopped him from tracking you down was Elias’s heavy hand on his shoulder. Keegan’s eyes were lit with a dangerous light, glinting with the promise of revenge. 

He wanted you back – he would get you back – regardless of the consequences. No one messed with you and lived, whether that meant the revenge was carried out by your own hand or by his doesn’t matter. That town would be purged. Keegan would see to it. 

The Federation had made it personal. 

“She’s getting tortured!” Ajax yells, insight voicing what everyone already knew, “Greenhorn would rush in if it was one of us out there instead of her!” 

“Then it’s a good thing we’re here, isn’t it?” Elias runs a hand down his face, army shirt and cargo pants noticeably wrinkled. No one had slept while they waited for more recent intelligence on the number of tangos in the town, “We can’t be rash. They’ll know we're comin’ for her if we mess this up.”

“Elias,” Merrick finally speaks up, placing his large hands on the chair’s back and leaning into it, “You know we all trust you to make the call…but I have to agree with Ajax on this. We’re practically leaving the Kid behind if we wait any longer.” The stocky Ghost scratches at his beard, “You know what they’ll do to her.”

The older man has a soft spot for you, Keegan realized with a roll of his head and a crack of his neck. All of them had a soft spot. Waiting here was like keeping a group of trained attack dogs from a target – most of all Keegan. Patience was supposed to be his ally, and he had taught you just the same, so how had it left him so stupendously?

Elias grunts, crossing his arms. He looks over to the only person who had thus far been silent and brooding in the corner. A dark cloud was heavy over the Ghost’s head, anyone could see it. A man at the edge of an already fraying rope of sanity. 

“Keegan?” Elias asks, gruffly, already knowing the man’s emotions and thoughts, “Do you have anything to add?”

Normally Keegan was one who would wait for a sure answer, but in this instance, the next words he said rocketed out of him before he could fully think over the gravity of what they meant. Always the cautious one, the times he wanted to rush in blind could be counted on one hand and on less than five fingers…but that was before you. Before the hours the two of you spent together training, building trust, and protecting each other in the field with knife and bullet. 

All that mattered was getting you back to him. And the words wrote themselves, curved, under the gentle influence of an ink quill. 

“I’m bringing my girl home.” 

A moment of silence tightens over his throat; the stoic man’s feet move from under him as his eyes slightly widen. If he had the ability his face would have blossomed with a blush, but even so, the embarrassment was visible to those who had known him the longest. 

Shit, he hadn’t meant for it to sound like that.

Keegan dares to look back at Elias, only to find the leader smirking, a knowing glimmer in his eyes that leaves him freezing like a mouse under the gaze of an owl. 

“Well, then, let’s go get your girl back.”

Ajax snickers and him and Merrick spare glances, amused, nearly saying about time.

—

Your body lightly swings, blood in a pool below your feet and rippling as another drop enters the flood. Your nose is broken; bleeding, just like your ribs. Cuts litter your skin, clothes are ripped and shredded and swarmed with crimson both dried and new. Your combat vest had been ripped off, the rough material thrown somewhere behind you by enraged fingers and ripped apart for any indication of a blueprint of your Fort or useful intel.

The Federation soldiers had left you alone with your thoughts not five minutes ago and to your credit, you have not broken. Not even after everything – the hits, stabs, and beatings that left you sobbing and biting back pleas. Throughout all of it, Keegan’s voice stuck with you; you had drowned in good memories in the small moments you were able to breathe without being slugged in the chest. 

The way Keegan would send you soft glances when he thought you weren't looking and how the blank-faced man kept your skills sharp as a way to make sure you were safe. His rare smiles; comforting interactions when you were up late practicing with your rifle. A weak smile filters over your bloody and bruised face, eyes blinking closed as the air is expelled from your lungs in a deep sigh. 

“You’re going to get a sore neck if you keep doing this, Little Blue,” The words startled you, eyes widening from where one looks through the scope of your AX-50. Your head jerks back, finger immediately dropping from the trigger you were just about to pull. 

“What the actual fuck, Keegan!?” Hair whips around you as your body turns, facing the man leaning against the doorway as a nightly breeze rustles through the outside firing range, “Has no one told you not to sneak up on the person with the gun?”

“I was the one that told you that, Kid.” He raises a brow, strong jawline on display for the moon. 

It was rare that the man took off his balaclava when in your presence, and you took a moment to stare from your position on the ground; your heart jerks against the concrete before you shove the feeling in it’s tissue down. 

Keegan’s presence made the heat on the back of your neck increase, hands getting clammy over the metal of your gun. You flex them in what you hope looks simply like a resetting method.

“Well, then you’re not good at taking your own advice...” You grumble, huffing and fixing your posture, looking back out over the field and the white target over six hundred feet away, “And my neck is perfectly fine, thank you.”

“It won’t be if you keep getting up and creeping out here every night. I thought I wore you out today?” The memory of getting thrown to the ground more times than you could count during a sparring match made your muscles remember to ache, “Or do I need to ramp up the difficulty? You almost pinned Ajax today.” You suppress a wince and send a quick glance over to the Ghost, who pushes off the wall and sighs, stalking over to you. 

“If you think you need to,” Licking your lips, you feel his heavy shadow over your form. You replace your cheek to the stock of your rifle, once more seeking to line up the shot as quickly as possible, “And you did ware me out.” Muttering, you feel yourself get lost in the wave of the sensation of purpose – superiority singing in your veins. 

This rifle was your quill, and with it, you signed the signature of death on the poems of others’ lives. 

This was your calling, and not a moment later, not feeling the reverent eyes on the side of your face as Keegan stills his breath, you pull the trigger. It lands just a millimeter from the center of the target. Your jaw tightens and you tell yourself, ‘not good enough’ with a narrowing of your eyes. 

The action wasn’t missed. 

“You’re at this every night, Kid,” Keegan stands by your left thigh, his eyes digging into you, “Don’t pretend like I haven’t noticed.” 

You pull back, shame coursing through your veins. You had tried to be stubble, but were you really that bad? 

But of course you were, your cheeks head, you lived in the Ghosts’ barracks. They all knew you were sneaking off at night to practice. Your lips thinned at that realization; you really had a lot to learn.

“Blue Jay,” Keegan prods, the authority of his rank now leaking into his tone; it has you straightening unconsciously, “Answer me.”

“...I just need to be better,” You mutter under your breath, going to line up another shot. 

A hand on the scope jostles the view, making you pause and tense. Your breath stills in your chest, feeling body heat beginning to leak into your shivering form. 

No words are spoken in that silent minute, but you know enough about your Sergeant to tell when he wants you to stop doing something. Keegan’s silence was a mystery that you had only just started to unravel for yourself. Your hands loosen enough for him to take the rifle from your grasp, bringing it up into his grip delicately. 

Shuffling up to your knees, you place one hand on your thigh as the other goes to rub at your eyes, feeling the fatigue leak out onto your fingers. 

“You’re not going to get better if you keep forcing your eyes open,” Keegan mutters, and his form knees down next to you. The rifle was placed on the ground a few feet away. A warm hand lays on your shoulder and you stifle a hitch in your breath managing to inhale the scent of gunpowder and fresh-cut grass; hickory wood. You have to blink away the sleep that settles on your eyelids. 

How was he so warm?

“How do you know that?” You grunt out, itching your eyebrow. You don’t register right away, but a deep chuckle settles warmly on your chest as the man at your side releases it.  Reverberations like a purr make you sigh slowly.

“You’re good, Little Blue,” Keegan’s hand goes to your chin, and your cheeks heat as he directs your gaze to his gently, thump and first finger firm. His eyes flicker over your face, taking in every line and imperfection before settling on the black and blue bags that have lived on you for weeks. In turn, you study him – the strong jaw line, usually hard eyes leaning towards soft and caring. You liked when he looked like that; more than anything, you liked when he looked at you like that, “don’t reduce your skill to anything less than what it is. Practice is good, Kid,” Keegan lowers his voice, and your eyes stay locked, “But I can’t watch you ruin yourself.” 

Your heart stutters, and your body becomes soft under his touch.

“...but I don’t want to let anyone down.” Eyebrows turning in, Keegan pauses a second at your comment, fingers on your chin tightening for a moment before it begins to travel. 

Heart pounding, his touch leaves electricity behind with every scrape of his callouses and healed scars. His eyes stay trapped on yours, watching every minute emotion and movement from you and your hands shock-still in your lap. 

“Let ‘em down?” Keegan huffs, the breath ruffling your hair, and his hand settles over your cheek. He continues as his large thumb goes to pet the skin of your undereye, leading your eyes to flicker shut as he mutters your name, “Not a damn chance. You’re a natural, Kid. Hell, you get some proper sleep for once and maybe one day you’ll be as good as me.” 

Even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face, feeling his eyes softly fall over your visage.

“Promise?” 

You missed the small twitch of Keegan’s lips, “...I promise.” 

Shaking yourself out of the memory, your body plays dead as the warehouse door once more opens. A plan had formed, taking root and digging into the small tissue of your brain. 

“Why isn’t she moving?” The voice of the Middle Man was enough to make your body tense, toes twitching. No one seemed to notice before you once more went slack, “Get her eyes open!” 

Twin pairs of feet slam to the floor, coming closer; soon hands are slamming into your ribs, shaking you back and forth. The bones in your chest move strangely, disconnected from where they were supposed to be. But you hold back your screams, a thin, lip-bitten whine stuck in your mouth. 

Your body whines to a stop when the blows halt. 

“I said get her eyes open!” Words are yelled in Spanish, and if you were in the right state you would have been able to translate them. 

Merrick made sure you were fluent in multiple languages and was one hell of a rough linguistics teacher. Every day you had kept a count of how many swear words he let loose. The undefeated record was fifty-five in one session. 

“Let her fall, then! She can’t be dead.” The last half is muttered, followed by a tapping of fingers over palms. Your ears twitch at the sound of receding steps, fast feet, and then the sound of a pulley system and rattling chains. 

Your body drops, slamming to the floor, and head bouncing off the concrete like a ball. You don’t have to play dead at that moment, because you’re sure that you passed out, a crack resounding in the bone of your skull and shaking your brain. The chains around your numb arms loosen, leaving your bloodied wrists burning as the air hits them. 

Staying still, your body lays sideways, but small trails of water dribble out from your tear ducts. 

Just a little longer, You try and tell yourself as circulation comes back to your arms. Shadows dance behind your vision, people moving by you and circling like wolves. Your limbs want to writhe back and forth, help make the needle-like stippling in your nerves go away if only for a millisecond. It was a battle of will. Move or don’t. Be a Ghost, or be helpless.

Well, when you put it like that…

A hand grabs your shoulder just as you clock the two others standing behind you, waiting silently for any signs of life. The gloved hand moves to the pulse point on your neck, heavy fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. One breath. Two.

And then you jerk up and headbutt one of the soldiers right in the nose. Pushing back the black dots that nearly swallow you whole your hands rip out of the lost chains and throw your body at the man. Grabbing his shoulders, curses and sharp barks fly out over the air, and just before the bullets from their guns rip through you, your broken figure twists to shove the man in front of you. 

Shots make your ears ring, but the spray of blood comes from the Federation soldier you used as a human shield, screams playing in your head like a symphony. Quicker than a switch, you grab the pistol strapped to the now dead man’s waist, and the minute the body ahead of you stumbles and hits the floor, you fire. 

The twin soldiers drop like flies, and the recoil of the gun leaves your weak hand flying back. Clattering to the floor, the weapon stays stationary as you pant and gasp down deep breaths. Blood stains the floor as well as the chains still on the cracked ground, and the vile substance flows from the three men that release death rattles. 

Your shattered mind thinks of a snake’s hiss before the sound divulges into a deep gurgling as you stare with blank eyes. Their forms twitch and jerk, brain dying or already dead.

But there was a spark of pride in you that stayed as your hands slap to the floor, pushing your body up with muffled wails and gritted teeth. You shimmy up to your feet and grab the gun on the way up, looking around as you stumble before righting your shaky legs. 

Looking around dumbly your limp arm pulses, and your mind runs so fast the festering wound on your head feels like cigarettes are being put out on it. 

Someone had to have heard those shots, You reason, and gasp as you walk forward. Your bones don’t feel right. They aren’t supposed to move like that – like they were just floating inside of you not attached to anything. 

Blinking rapidly, your vision blurs as the first shouts spring up from outside. 

Gotta move, Limping heavily you go as fast as you’re able to the warehouse doors, pushing on the metal as sweat falls down your nose.

Your body aches, muscles constantly tightening and then loosening within seconds of each other. It was getting increasingly harder to push back the need to scream in agony as the adrenaline in you seemed to disappear. Taking to breathing out of your mouth to help out your broken nose, you nearly fall onto your face as you shimmy out into the dirt perimeter surrounding the building. 

First, you see the town. Your eyes widen, focus suddenly less on yourself as you take in a sheen of smoke rising up. The raging shouts hadn’t been coming from Federation men rushing to the warehouse – in fact, they were rushing past it. People zip from the corner of your eyes into the treeline, abandoning the houses and buildings with screams of, fantasmas, fresh in the burning air.

Ghosts.

“They came back for me?” Rough and broken, your voice makes you flinch when you finally hear it. Your vocal cords were damaged. 

And they torched the whole fucking place! The gun is like iron in your grasp, heavy and cold. Or maybe it was your hands that were the cold ones? You couldn’t tell, but as you lean back into the metal of the warehouse exterior you smirk, blood breaking out from your chapped lips.

Vision once more peeling out, you drop the pistol and slide down, mind floating far above your form and doing jumping-jacks in the clouds. You don’t know how long you’re slumped like that, neck compressed against your chest as your lungs fight for air, but the next thing you remember is panicked shouting.

“--Found her! Warehouse! Blue Jay, open your eyes!” Your eyebrows furrow as strong hands grip you tight, manhandling your body to the ground so you’re laying on your back, “Open your damn eyes, Kid!”

There’s a sound of frantic breathing before the tearing of velcro. Pressure is put on your shoulder. 

“Ah!” You scream, bearing your teeth and raging at the sensation of firm hands and an unrelenting weight.

“That’s right,” The smooth voice says, “Keep responding, keep making noise for me.”

“Kee?” You ask, only able to half-open your eyes and call out his nickname that you had never actually used aloud before. If possible, the weight is ramped up ten-fold, and you have to wonder if the Ghost is putting a knee up on you to try and stop the bleeding. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Keegan grunts, and his body comes into view as your eyes clear, though one is more muddled than the other; like a body of water filled with mud. Afternoon light shines off the man’s combat vest and back attire, his signature balaclava looking like it had been messed with and run over with rough hands. His black face paint is patchy and in places streaked. Keegan looked tired, you numbly realized as a chill made you shiver, “Look at me.” 

You were. 

His eyes snap to meet yours, and you’re taken aback by the creases around them; the wrinkles straining his forehead and nose bridge. The color is darker as well, no longer a calm and blank blue but a fiery shade, burning and boiling water. They flash when they already see you looking at him, and his high-hackled shoulders minutely lower as they soften to give you that look that you love. You pray only you’re privy to that look because it makes your shaking hands heat up.

“You have reall–really pretty eyes,” You whisper, voice cutting out, “You know that?”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” He says, eyes flickering away and scanning your body. Behind the fabric you see his lips pull back in a soundless snarl, “But If you think they’re so pretty you’ll have to trouble keepin’ yours locked on ‘em, right?”

You can’t laugh, so the small exhalation from your mouth will have to do. Your eyelids flicker.

“Hey,” Keegan’s hand goes to your cheek, jostling your head so hard you groan, “The hell did I just tell you, Blue?”

“...Hurts,” You whimper, tears gathering as your lips twitch. 

You can only do so much to push back the inevitable, and every breath feels like someone’s shoving your chest into a table saw. 

Keegan moves one hand from your shoulder and sets it on your cheek, tilting your head to the side, “I know it hurts, Blue, but you gotta keep lookn’ at me, okay? You’re doing good.” 

It was the softest you had ever heard him speak. His finger brushes your undereye and makes your eyelashes flutter open.

“There she is,” He grunts, and with a start, you see he’s pushed up his face covering, the fabric a bundle on top of his head. Your face heats at his handsome visage, roaming his lips and cheekbones, “there’s my girl.”

“I didn’t know if you were going to,” Fluid pools in the back of your mouth, and you cough before you can continue, sprinkles of phlegm and blood spraying Keegan’s attire. He doesn’t seem to care, “come back for me,” Uttering the words weakly, you feel yourself speak as if separate from your own body, a willing participant watching just beyond the way of sight. 

Keegan’s eyes narrow, face pulling closer unconsciously as if he were trying to shield you with his body from the gunfire far off behind him. Across the field, familiar voices had started to ring out.

“Why the hell would you think that? What kind of dumbass made you–” He stops when your eyes sneak away in shame, numb lips pulling down as tears make your sclera red. A pause ensues before a deep sigh falls from his lips; Keegan taps his thumb on your cheek until you look back at him. His face is tense, but a blatant surety is in his tone, “I would never leave you behind. If you had trouble figuring all that out until now, then you don’t anymore. Got it?” 

“Copy, Sarge,” Your eyebrows soften, body going slack and loose. Keegan’s hand is so warm, “You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.” 

Eyes going out of focus, your head lulls before Keegan can rip you back to the present with his deep words just as the ground reverberates under you. They say the sense of hearing is the last to go, and that rings true, because the last thing you remember is Keegan’s voice yelling your name so gutturally that you almost miss Merrick’s voice. 

“Blue! Shit, Elias, we need Med Evac down here, now! She’s down!”

—

The Med Ward was just how you remembered it, but the man sitting in the chair near the window was new. You were no stranger to the alcoholic scent of the rooms, the blinding overhead lights, and the coarse bed sheets. Around your body, the tight bindings restricted you from sitting up and walking, so for upwards of ten minutes you had stared at Keegan’s figure. 

He was sleeping, in nothing more than a black T-shirt and cargo pants. His head was tilted to the side and his arms crossed over his chest; legs out and crossed at the ankles as his combat boots rest on the tile. You should wake him up. You should, but you haven’t and probably won't. Keegan’s dark hair is glowing in an early morning light, making it glow amber and cover him like a halo. 

The pillow under your head is hard, uncomfortable, and stinks of bleach, but instead of worrying about it, your mind was running over what you had said before you passed out.

“You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.”

Fuck me, Cheeks heating, your eyes flicker down his body, catching his veiny arms and watching his chest steadily rise and fall. Had you really said that? 

Your head begins to hurt, and not only from the tight bindings and the gauze pad around it. 

“You’re staring, Little Blue.” Gasping, your eyes widen in their sockets at the sleep-dipped tone. 

Keegan’s eyes slide open fluidly as if he were never asleep in the first place. His head moves to right itself and stare directly at you, blinking slowly. Locking gazes, you freeze as your jaw goes slack – it was a good thing you were on pain meds because otherwise, your ribs would be aching at the way your breath halted. Stuttering, you let the room lapse into silence as he watches you. Keegan’s lips flicker into a smirk. 

Standing he stalks over to you and drags the chair behind him. Getting about a foot or two away, he stops and flips the chair forward carefully before sitting down once more. Keegan leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees as you watch. 

“...You feeln’ alright? Need me to get the nurse?” He has black and blue under his eyes, colored iris’ strained. Keegan was a man of few words – his actions always spoke louder; like how he let you keep his knife, or told you to go to bed when you were up late shooting. 

At that moment the cold Ghost’s hand went to your arm, lightly brushing over the bandages and pauses to see if you register any pain. When he doesn’t see any discomfort, he settles his grip and runs his fingers over your skin. 

You blink. 

“I’m good.” The words come out breathlessly, and where his touch continues to rove, sparks light under the skin.

Keegan’s soft sigh enters the cold air, and his gaze flickers to the floor for a moment. His jaw clenches, like there was something in his head that refused to come out of his lips. The man’s scream still haunted you – how he yelled your name so raw and vulnerable. You had never heard something like that from him, not even when he had to have you stitch him up one time during a mission.

I’m never letting you anywhere a needle again, He had said with his face flushed of color. You really were bad at sutures. 

Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand with every bit of cotton sticking to your brain and shimmy it out of his delicate grip. Not wanting to hurt you he pulls back and looks with wide eyes at what you were doing. 

“Kid, I don’t–” His comment is halted when your fingers graze his cheek, just the tiniest hint of stubble making your fingers itch perfectly. Freezing like a bird, Keegan’s sights are set on you, confusion bleeding into this expression as his lips pull into a line. 

This was stepping a line you hadn’t crossed before, but you didn’t really care all that much. 

Caressing his jaw, your hand cradles his face. To your surprise, Keegan leaned into you, tension leaving and body going slack like putty in your grip; a second later, his hand comes and encompasses your own, molten heat radiating into your bloodstream. Your heart skips a beat when his eyelashes flutter closed. 

“Tired?” You ask, slightly amused.

“No,” Keegan grumbles, face blank, and you flinch as a laugh barks from your lips. Not a good idea. Weaving his fingers so he can grip your hand more tightly, he peels you from his face and opens his eyes. 

Watching you and clocking your emotions, he lays your hand to his lips and lays a gentle kiss, lips moving over your skin as he places another right after. You’re surprised you don’t catch on fire – especially with that look on his face.

How could a man so cold be as gentle as he was with you?

“You worried the boys,” He says when he pulls back but still holds your hand close, “Ajax nearly strangled Elias to get him to hurry up and go after you.” 

Smirking, you hum, “And you? Were you worried, Kee?” Teasing with the nickname, you watch as a small smile forms over his face, eyes lingering so beautifully on your visage.

“No,” You raise a brow at the bare answer, but he wasn’t done, “I was damn near terrified.” Licking your lips, you watch him track the motion, and he rises and leans closer to you, “What gave you the right to make me feel like that, Kid,” His breath fans over your cheeks, and your eyes flutter when his nose caresses your own. You can feel his eyes bore into you, unrelenting as they look over every pore and mark. 

Keegan’s lips whisper over yours. 

Yes, Your mind sings at the contact, and a small whimper falls into the air. 

“...Who gave you the right to make me want to be yours?” All but growling the words out, his lips descend onto yours, firm but still gentle. He would never hurt you, even if he wanted to feel you against him. You were injured, and that reality never failed to leave his head.

So for now, he would kiss you as if you were the most delicate of glass; worship your skin and bestow on it everything he couldn’t say. 

As you both move together, his hands come up and grab at your jaw as your own travel to rest on his chest that looms over your own, mapping out the dip of his muscles and the way he shivers when your nails rake into the fabric of his shirt. 

This was what you had wanted, to feel him move over you and flex as your fingers go to grip at his hair. 

Pulling back, the man pants in breath with you, lips were swollen. It was quite the sight, and you swore you felt your pupils dilate just by staring at him. Keegan hums deep in his chest and then places his forehead gently to your own – careful of the bandages and, most likely, stitches that live under there.

“I lost your knife,” You whisper out, and almost cringe at the needy tone of your voice. Were you really this infatuated with the man? …You already knew the answer to that question.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keegan grunts, and keeps the knowledge of the fact that the blade was already paced back in your room by his own hands to himself, “I’ll make sure you pay for it when you’re well enough to be discharged. Can’t have my Blue Jay leaving weapons behind, now can we?”

It’s safe to say you prayed for a speedy recovery, just like how poets of days long past wished for a gentle rain or mist-filled morning – if only to have something to quietly worship. 

[tierras]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, it hasn't even reached a third of the goal. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

hii! thank you for reaching out 🫶🏽 just donated 10£, looking for people to match my donation and if you can't, pls reblog and share!

as anon🕊️ mentioned above, Al-Ameen was a 3 year old with Leukemia who passed away on 5/14. currently Al-Ameen's mother and 3 siblings have no source of income since their father went missing 5 months ago during the family's effort to flee from South Gaza to Rafah. all donations will completely reach Al Ameen's family and will be used to buy food, water and everyday necessities.

[rems-writing]

To Love a Siren

Pairing: siren!Yeosang × witch afab!reader

Summary: This is based off a song called Shouldn't Couldn't Wouldn't by NIKI featuring Rich Brian

Warning(s): Mentions of sexual activity, cursing, yelling

Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Thank you to @minkilicious for proofreading and shout out to @itsnotmydejavu and @bethelighthalazia

Since there is mention of sexual activity

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You were in his bed. Again. Your sisters told you to stay away from him yet you couldn’t. You even had Hook stand guard for you every time you did something mundane like go to the grocery store or help Henry with his homework. However, you fell too deep into his trap and there was no way you could escape his clutches. 

I’m talking about the deadliest siren known to all of mankind. 

Kang Yeosang. 

He had brown hair, a unique birthmark on the side of his right eye, irises red as blood, and silver scales that littered his body. He was known for having the smoothest and deepest voice out of all of sirenkind. The sickly sweet honey vocals would lure even the most intelligent pirate to the bottom of the sea and they wouldn’t even know they had died until they found themselves in the Underworld. 

How were you involved in all of this? Well it started back when you were on a mission to gather some things from Skull Rock. Meaning you had to go through. Meaning you had to go through the rambunctious group of Lost Boys who stayed when you captured Peter Pan.

From there, you spiralled downwards. You wanted to unravel the mystery that was the beauty behind the siren. However, you made a pact. A pact that you slowly started to regret. Why? You broke the number one rule when you first started sleeping with him. It was the most crucial rule you guys had yet you went and broke it away.  

You fell in love with him. 

Little did you know

He fell in love with you too

Due to his siren nature however, it ruined everything. 

You were arguing with him earlier over God knows what. Perhaps it’s the bottled up feelings spilling over at once. Or maybe it was pent up frustration. Either way, you were screaming each other’s heads off. 

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!” 

“OH REALLY?! THEN EXPLAIN HOW I GOT YOUR BAD HABITS ALL MEMORIZED!”

“WHAT BAD HABITS?!”

“WHEN I KNOW YOU NEED ME MOST, YOU GO AND SHUT ME OUT! I figured though since you’re a damn Gemini.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes and looked down at you, crossing his buff arms that somehow made his scales shimmer even now. Perhaps it was the sunlight reflecting off his beautifully milk and honey mixed skin.  

“That doesn’t mean shit though. Stop acting like you know all the answers to everything.” 

“I’m not saying I got all of the answers though. But oh boy have I been in love before.”

“Ok and? Your point?”

At this point, you grabbed his hand, to which he flinched. He wasn’t expecting you to step closer to him, let alone grab his hand. You truly must be brave in order to do that. 

“It’s not always peachy. Life ain’t that easy, Yeosang. Believe me. But one thing I know for sure is it shouldn’t be this hard. Sure you couldn’t dtr (define the relationship) and you’re thinking ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay friends?’ right?”

“Yeah. But I know we shouldn’t. We’re too deep into this… thing we have with each other.”

“Exactly. You know what?”

“What?” 

“If I had your heart, it wouldn’t be this hard.”

Yeosang sighed and pulled you into a long needed hug. You could smell the rum off his breath and you sighed. You figured he would drink before a serious talk like this since he needed the confidence boost. After all, being a siren isn’t easy. 

“Is that why you acted so indifferent the last time we saw each other?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize that it was a bit too much right?”

He tried to joke about it, but you glared at him and he sighed, apologizing quietly for the poorly timed joke. Clearly, he didn’t understand still yet you remained patient since he was still learning. 

“Is there anything else I said that pissed you off?”

“It’s not anything you said. Rather… it’s everything you didn’t.”

“Oh? How so?”

“You always answer my questions with more questions. Tell me. Are you scared?”

“Honestly? Yeah. We’re not always peachy, you know. We fuck like we hate each other when obviously, we don’t. We’re just clueless. Well… I’m just clueless.” 

You giggled at his statement and Yeosang felt his heart swell with adoration at the sight. Perhaps he could try to love you in the way you truly deserved. After all, you saved him from the throes of Neverland.

“I drank too much tonight. I’m looking to get it out of my system.”

“Well, I’m here, loverboy. Let’s establish something once and for all.” 

“You know I’m not one for titles, especially that one. Maybe I’m terrified.” 

“Why is that?”

Yeosang leaned down and kissed your neck, his fangs lightly scraping your skin. You moaned quietly and you felt him smirk against your skin. Like you with his bad habits, he memorized all your spots that made you grow weak.

“I wil admit. That pussy kicked my rules out the door.”

He then swept you up in his arms and led you into his room, where you got lost in each other’s touches and were drunk off of each other’s lips. As Yeosang’s hands skimmed all over your body, you heard your phone ping. 

“I could take more shots or I can take you off your blouse.”

“Do the latter.”

Yeosang smirked and ripped your blouse in half. You whined and he shushed you with a scaled finger pressed against your lips. He then slowly inserted two of them into your mouth and you sucked on them happily. He then took off your pants and groaned at the wetness seeping from your panties. 

“Normally, when we were actually fucking instead of talking and… well in the process of making love, my favorite part is either when I’m done or when you’re walking out of my house. However, I realize that I don’t want that.” 

He then sat on the bed and brought you into his arms. You were shocked by the gentleness of his movements and when you stared into his eyes, they weren’t their normal red. They lightened into a softer shade of pink. He tilted his head and explained some more. 

“The next time I call you, you better pick up. From now on, I’m calling you mine. I want to show you off to everyone and prove to your sisters that even though I’m a siren, I can love like a human.” 

At the end, he could dtr. It wasn’t hard but it also wasn’t easy. Wouldn’t it have been nice if they stayed friends? Yes but…

Y/N had Yeosang’s heart. And no one could take it from her. 

[hrtbreakanniversary]

Secret Love Song | Sung Hanbin

And nobody knows I'm in love with someone's baby I don't wanna hide us away Tell the world about the love we making I'm living for that day, someday

summary: afraid of having attention on herself from dating the school's most beloved, y/n y/l/n hides her relationship with sung hanbin. pressured to keep this act up, she begins to reap the consequences of doing so.

pairing: sung hanbin x fem! reader

word count: 12k

playlist: secret love song - little mix, cornelia street - taylor swift, shadow - seventeen

warnings: jealousy, suggestive, both of their thinking gets a bit toxic imo, lots of miscommunication, y/n has trust issues, hanbin is a little insecure, anxiety, profanity (lmk if i missed any!)

The cafeteria was busy with everyone rushing to get a meal in the small period between classes. Friends talk about the outrageous amount of homework that teachers assigned or the crazy things that they were taught because they forget that the people they are teaching are just young high school students. Failed whispers gossiping about what happened over the weekend.

A topic being on the school's basketball team's pointing guard, Sung Hanbin, being tied down to cheer captain, Yoo Jimin. Witnesses talking about how they caught them underneath the bleachers outside near the football field during the halftime of last week's game. His lips on hers and their hands where they shouldn't be in public.

This could be rumors. This could be the truth. It's up to the recipient if they choose to believe it or not.

Y/N knew it wasn’t true because they have been dating for about 6 months now.

"Honestly they're pretty cute. It's nothing surprising if they are a thing." Zhanghao's voice muffled behind the straw as he took a sip out of his drink.

"Dude." Yunjin whacked the male on the arm. She quickly reassured Y/N," Don't listen to him. Everyone knows that they're just close friends."

"You're acting like Y/N is going to do anything about her crush. Don't give her that toxic positivity."

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N scoffed out," Thanks for believing in me, Hao. I appreciate the hope you have for me."

"I'm just stating the facts. You've liked him for how long? And I have not seen you guys talk at all."

"Yeah, they have!" Yunjin tried to recollect exactly when but blanked out.

"Like once? When he asked for the answers to the science homework? I’m sorry. He and his whole posse are totally out of our leagues."

"I hope you fail tryouts tonight."

"Yunjin." Y/N sighed," Too far."

"He's pissing me off."

Zhangho mocked Yunjin, flicking her off in the process. In response, the girl whacked him on his head. While her best friends bickered, she couldn't help looking over at the table in the middle of the room. Zhanghao was right. Despite them already dating, she still struggled to believe that she was. And the way that Zhanghao talked about it like it would be something atrocious, this is why she preferred to keep their relationship under wraps and away from the public’s eye. If her own best friend couldn’t see them together, how could anybody else? And she knew the comments from people who didn’t know her would be more harsh.

Y/N eyed how Jimin was sitting so close to him. With every movement, their arms and shoulders would touch.

Jimin rose her arm to hang off his shoulder, leaning into his ear to whisper into his ear that made his lips raise into a smile. Just as Hanbin was about to reply to whatever the girl had to say, another body came into her view and blocked away the school's new "couple". Letting out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, she looked up to find Matthew. He was a year younger, a grade below, but she had American literature with him. They didn't really talk much except when they would get paired during class but then again, Y/N didn't really talk to people outside of her circle.

"H-Hey, Y/N."

"Hi."

Matthew gleamed at the simple response, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. As he remained silent, she looked around the table before looking back up at him," Is there something you need?" "Oh… uhm…" he stumbled to take his bag. Placing it roughly on the table that had the three of them grasping at their trays so that their food didn't jump too far out of their plates. Digging deep into the trenches of his bag, he spared each of them a bright smile before pulling out a crumpled-up flower. A single white rose and he shyly began to hand it to Y/N.

More like shoved it into her hands.

"I was wondering… if you would like to go to the winter formal with me. I mean I know that you don't know me too well and I don't know you too well but I've always thought you were pretty. And maybe we could get to know each other through this. So be my date?" In the corner of her eyes, she saw his friends huddled at the door. One of them filming the whole interaction.

“Matthew, I’m sorry.", His face fell in disappointment. Y/N quickly shook her head, attempting to stop him from crying but she could see the tears already beginning to fall," It's just I wasn't planning to go is all! I'll have to figure it out with my parents and I don't have money to go. I’ll get back to you, yeah?"

Blinking away the rest of his tears, he let out a sigh of relief, "Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you later."

Before Y/N could even say anything, he scurried away. Pushing past his group of friends that ran after him, slapping him on his shoulder and back as they made a commotion.

"That wasn't easy to watch," Yunjin spoke through clenched teeth. Zhanghao picked up the rose from Y/N's lap who was still staring at the empty door in complete guilt.

"Well… this is how you can tell someone likes you." He rose it in the air as if he were examining an exotic flora. "So start living in reality. The both of you. Because Sung Hanbin has never spared more than a glance at Y/N in the past four years”

Funny enough, Hanbin himself had not been able to take his eyes off the girl for more than a minute since the second she walked in. _ Right foot. Left foot. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N let out a dry heave, crouching over her knees. Having physical education right after lunch was pure evil. She could feel today’s lunch. Maybe chugging the banana milk before coming out was a bad idea too. It was beneficial for the people in sports that had to leave early to compete at other schools but she wasn’t a part of any sports so they could’ve put her during any other part of the day. Her body was pulled forward by Yunjin who kept her speed at a slow jog. Huffing through each breath,” The faster we get this done, the more we can hide from Coach Kim.”.

“Left!.” A crowd of male voices exclaimed, running past her in a speed that mocked her. Damn basketball team. Their heights offended her too. The grimace on her face stayed until that familiar flop of hair running in the back appeared. Of course, Sung Hanbin being the captain of the basketball team had to lead an example to other players and make sure all his teammates were accounted for. So despite possibly being the fastest, he stayed towards the end to make sure that the players who weren’t able to keep up and no one was left behind.

Suddenly, Hanbin turned around and began to run backward. Raising an eyebrow in question, Y/N continued to jog. He looked around the area, especially on Yunjin who was still beside her before his eye fell down into a wink at her before turning back around and catching up with the rest of his team.

All prior complaints dissipated into the air. She struggled to hide her blush from his flirtatious attempts but that failed when Yunjin stopped them and held her cheeks together. Worried that she was going to faint from the way her cheeks were turning so red.

After everyone had finished the two laps, Coach Kim lined everyone up along the white lines. “Alright, before I send off half of you, we’re going to play a little game of dodgeball.”

Coach Kim earned boos from the tough crowd but he waved them off and began to read down his roster.

“Coach, why don’t we play it a little differently? Couple dodgeball? Girl as striker and boy as the defender?”

“That’s so boring too! You all take too long to get each other out!” A girl shouted from the other side of the line.

“How about we change that up too and have the boy as the striker and the girl as the defender?” A girl with pig tails asked.

Coach Kim obviously thought that was a good idea since he didn't wait for a vote from the class as he immediately divided the class up in half using the method of giving a person a number between 1 and 2.

Y/N looked around at everyone frantically picking their partners. During this game, she always partnered with Yunjin. They always purposely got out so that they could run off and hide somewhere away from everyone’s view to watch episodes of this anime named Bluelock. But now that Yunjin was split apart from her and on the other team, she didn’t know who to choose as her partner and if anybody even wanted to be her partner.

“1?” A familiar voice came out from the chaos of the crowd, their hand reaching to grab her wrist. Hanbin smirked down at Y/N’s look of surprise, her eyebrows raised and lips ajar. His hand slowly trailed down to interlock their fingers together.

Oh he’s getting quite brave. The fight to hide her blush failed once again. But reality hit when she heard other people in their team complaining about how they wanted to be Hanbin’s partner. The ones reminding her why they were in this position in the first place as they questioned who she was and how in any way she was special enough to have Hanbin choose her so quickly. She began to try to pry her fingers out of his,” Hanbin, we can’t.”

“What? Be partners? I don’t see why now.”

” Yeah but partners don’t hold hands like we are.”

Almost like he wasn’t paying attention to a single thing he was saying, Hanbin used his thumb to rub out the crease between her eyebrow created by the pout on her face. Y/N turned her head from side to side to shake his hand off, “Hanbin!” She whisper screamed.

“I don’t know who that is. I only go by one name.”

“Whatever.”

“Whose Hanbin?”

“Shut up, dude.”

“Dude? Hanbin? What are these names?”

Binnie was just on the tip of her tongue but the sound of the whistle brought everyone’s attention to the middle. Using this distraction, she snuck her hand from Hanbin's grasp before any more questioning glances made their way.

All while Coach Kim was trying to give instructions on how to play the game, she could feel his hand linger near hers. The feeling of his fingertips on her palms, close to interlocking their fingers but never doing it. She loved him. Loved how he respected her space and despite pestering her so much about it, listened and didn’t continue actions that made her uncomfortable.

She ached to hold his hand in public.

Wished she didn’t care too much about the retributions.

The whistle rang through the air again to commence the beginning of the game. Everybody rushing into their sports and grabbing a ball from the middle of the court.

Y/N knew it wasn’t going to be normal. She also knew that they were going to be one of the first ones to get out.

Normal partners, they held onto their partners by their shirts or by holding them on their shoulders.

But Hanbin’s arms were around Y/N’s waist, holding her tightly to his chest. It was honestly a little hard to maneuver around with the limitations of space.

The sound of the ball rushing through the air buzzed in Y/N's ear as she flinched away to avoid getting hit all while pushing Hanbin behind her who felt like a 3 potato sacks that she was dragging. The boy was much too happy while playing a game of dodgeball, his grip only tightening as he tucked his chin into her neck.

"Binnie, you're going to have to move if you want there to any chance of us winning."

Longing the vowels in each word, he whispered into her ear," I don't caree~".

To everyone’s surprise except hers, they were the second pair to get out. Gasps of how Hanbin usually lasts until the end. Walking off to the side, they stood and watched the remaining teams. After few minutes and nobody else getting out after them, Hanbin leaned down to whisper in her ear,” Do you want to get out of here?"

She rose her eyebrow," And how would we do that?"

Hanbin looked over at the game and examined the game. More like he was checking to see how Yunjin and her partner was doing. The duo were pretty still very much into the game and it seemed like they weren't going to get out anytime soon. Y/N watched as his arm shot up to garner Coach Kim's attention who stared over at them in question.

"Do you need more balls from the storage, sir? Y/N and I would have no problem grabbing some."

Coach Kim eyed the balls that went off the distance. He shrugged and nodded, honestly not really caring.

Hanbin wasted no time and walked in front to guide them toward the storage. His long legs allowed for their trip to be shorter and faster despite Y/N’s little complaints from her struggling to catch up, practically jogging. He kicked away the rock that held the door open in a comical way that almost fostered a giggle out of her. With a gentle smile on his face, he held the door open with his one hand. Y/N shook her head at his antics, rushing to get inside so he wouldn't have to hold it any longer for her.

Once the both of them were inside, the door was shut between them. Only the light from the windows shining in for them. Luckily the balls were in an easy find because they were in a visible place. Y/N being the one who found it decided to grab it especially since Hanbin was doing who knows what behind her with the jump ropes.

The only con is that it was a high place tucked besides two boxes.

But it was doable. Getting up onto her tippy toes, she reached up. Stretching out her body to grow tall to grab it but to her avail, it failed. So she tried again, jumping with more force each time. It took the fifth try for the bag to finally budge, it slowly sliding down. What she didn't know was that as she moved the bag, it was moving the box to the right forward.

"Cmon." She muttered underneath her breath, grabbing a handful of the net to pull it forward.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the box tipping forward. Quickly, she reached her other arm out to catch it but a body came up behind her to help catch it as well.

Once she turned her head, Y/N's mind was going haywire. She could not focus with how close he stood to her. You'd think she would be used to it by now. But each time, she got a close glimpse of his face. Starstruck is what could be used to describe; her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her breath picking up a pace. Looking over the details of his face from the curvature of his nose to his soft lips, she couldn't look away.

"You know… usually, people say thank you for their life rather than just checking them out."

Her face scrunched up in disgust," I was not checking you out!"

Hanbin ruffled her hair with one hand and pushed the box back into place. He then helped Y/N pull down the rest of the bag. Y/N pulled the bag up to her chest to distribute the weight better. She tried to back up of the little corner she was in but Hanbin's body blocked her from doing so.

"What are you doing?"

Hanbin quickly motioned to her to be quiet with a finger to his lips before cupping a hand behind his ear. Y/N turned around so she was now facing him with an raised eyebrow.

"Doesn't sound like anybody got out."

A smirk grew on his face, her cheek crinkling up to look like cat whiskers. Like muscle memory, her thumb ran over the lines of one of his most beloved features.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I might just kiss you."

Y/N snapped out of her trance, her hand falling onto his shoulder and resting there. She leaned forward so that her face was under his. She tilted her head up, looking him straight the eyes. "Would you?" A loud shriek escaped from her mouth as her feet were suddenly off the floor and she was placed on a tower of mats. His arms caging her between them, slitting himself between her legs. He leaned in so close that the tips of their noses brushed against hers, his lips barely hovering over hers.

Like a game, she leaned back against the wall to run from him. His lips chasing hers, desperate for even the slightly touch. A small peck given by her. Hanbin groaned in annoyance.

He moved one hand to rest against her bare thigh while the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him.

Like magnets, they stuck to one another. The space between them now closed as their bodies mushed together like a perfect puzzle piece.

The white noise of the fan mixing together with the sound of their heavy breathing. Y/N could feel the butterflies going crazy in her stomach when his hand that was previously on her waist slip underneath her school t-shirt.

The way his hands slowly moved and brushed against her a sensitive spot that evoked a giggle. Hanbin couldn't help the smile at the sound. "Come on, babe. I'm losing it here."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right snogging another women's man."

With his forehead against hers, Hanbin frowned in confusion, " What do you mean?"

"Last I heard, you were dating Jimin."

"Jimin, huh?" Hanbin dramatically leaned away from Y/N, his arm still secured around her waist. He let out a deep sigh," You're right. I shouldn't be having such thoughts about another man's woman."

This time, Y/N rose her eyebrow up in confusion.

"With that junior."

"Oh, Matthew?" "What was going on there anyways?"

"He asked me to the formal."

"Oh is that right?" Hanbin wiggled his eyebrows," How cute is that?"

"Shut up." She pushed at his shoulder that didn't budge at the movement.

"Did he give you flowers?" A peck on her forehead," Balloons?" A peck on her cheek, " What color are you two wearing?," A kiss on her lips.

"You're soooo annoying. I said no to him."

He tucked a strand hair behind her ear, " Good. Because you're mine."

"Yours? I'd be surprised. Everyone is saying you're Jimin's."

"Would I be in your arms if I was hers? I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here." He ran his thumb over cheek," I'd go anywhere to be with you." Pulling her back in for a tight hug as he wrapped around of his arms around her waist.

Y/N couldn't help the way her cheeks burned. To hide her reaction, she tucked her face between the crack of his neck and returned the hug back to him.

The moment was interuppted by a rapid knock at the door that had her immediately push Hanbin off of her. His hand quickly grabbed onto hers when he stumbled back against the cushions behind him. Yunjin's voice could be heard outside of the room, asking Y/N if she was in there.

"Crap." Y/N started to push her hair back into place, adjusting her clothes back into place. "Dude, hide."

"What, why?" He whispered in a hush tone.

"Don't you think she'll find it odd if we're just chilling in here together?"

"And what's wrong with that?". It was as if he couldn't see the seriousness of the situation. A boy and a girl in a room alone was strange and questionable in so many ways. Especially with how he was leaning his body into hers again, squeezing her hand, "I think it's about time she found out."

"Binnie, just-" The door opened before she could finish her sentence, the doors were open and Yunjin was in the room with them. Luckily she was looking around the room first since they were tucked away in the corner. That quick second allowed Y/N to realize that their hands were still interlocked together and yanked her hand out of his grip. She had unintentionally done it so fast and rough, failing to see how Hanbin's eyebrow began to furrow.

"Yunjin~" She called out to the lost girl, grabbing the bag of extra balls beside her. Yunjin's head quickly snapped over in their direction, her eyes immediately looking Y/N in hers and widening at the sight and thought of the two being alone in a room together.

Y/N rose her hand up to show the bag of balls in her hands, " You came just in time. Can't find anything in this junk yard."

"Right…" Yunjin only moved only because Y/N dragged her out of the small, congested room. She frantically waved goodbye to Hanbin whose gaze were directed to the floor. Yunjin herself wasn't able to figure what emotion he was showing but couldn't help but see that he resembled a kicked puppy on the side of the road.

Finally breathing in some fresh air of outside, Y/N threw the bag over her shoulder and began walking back to the game that wasn't even halfway done yet.

Behind her, she could Yunjin jogging to catch up to her. Whispering yelling underneath the breath that she couldn't wait to tell Zhanghao about how Y/N got to spend time with her "crush". _ Yunjin has been Y/N's best friend since kindergarten. There is no Y/N without Yunjin and there is no Yunjin without Y/N.

So maybe it wouldn't hurt for Y/N to tell about Yunjin about the fact that she isn't single and has a boyfriend that she's been with for six months now. Also that the boyfriend is Sung Hanbin who she has been gushing over and slightly obsessed with since middle school. Yunjin rambled on and on that she was happy that Y/N was able to interact with Hanbin especially after all these years and that she totally thinks that Hanbin is into her despite the fact that in the two minutes that Yunjin saw them together, Y/N tried her best to not look over at him in fear that she would reveal things just by the way that she looked at him.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if they went public.

Jimin and Hanbin's friendship never bothered her especially since she knows Jimin views as a brother. But maybe going public would also put a halt to all the rumors about Jimin and him that irked every time she thought about it.

Y/N pulled her shirt over her head to put on her button up instead. Currently she was in one of the empty shower stalls. While she's known most of the people out there for long as she has been attending public school, she preferred to have privacy while changing.

While clasping the buttons together, she got a big whiff of cigarette smoke.

The shower stalls had a vent that was just placed perfectly on a wall that has an alley on the other side where all students that smoke hid to have their daily dose of those nicotine sticks.

She opted to ignore it as it was none of her business and all she had left to do was to tuck her shirt into her skirt. As she pushed the bunched cloth into the hem, her movements halted when she heard the mumble of her name.

"Yeah, she was with him most of the time."

"Damn that sucks! Weren't you trying to be his partner in the game? Isn't that why you brought it up to Coach Kim?"

Y/N inched closer to the wall, keeping up onto her tippy toes as the vent was so far high up on the wall.

"And he partnered up with Y/N instead?"

The girl let out a long and heavy sigh, seemingly taking a drag of her cigarette before continuing her rant," Partner up? More like she leeched herself onto him. So annoying. Then they were the first to get out."

"Oh my gosh. Hanbin must've been so annoyed. He's literally the best at any sports he plays."

"Right? Then they disappeared off and I never got to talk to him because by the time I found him, he was already with his friends."

"What? Didn't you get out right after Hanbin and Y/N?" The other girl let out an horrendous cackle," And way to make it so obvious. I'm so surprised that Coach didn't say shit about that. "

"That old man is tired. I was doing him a favor by making the game shorter. But anyways, I couldn't find him. Gosh it was so annoying."

"Oh well. The time will come."

"I could've gotten it over with if Y/N wasn't in the way."

"Hey… at least you know she isn't any competition."

"Right? In no way would Hanbin ever go for someone like Y/N."

"You're like 10 times prettier than she is, hands down."

"Girl, I already know that. Like literally he is way too good for her and if she confessed like anyone else would, let's just pray for her because that wouldn't end well."

Having enough of this conversation, Y/N threw on the rest of her outfit and snatched her backpack out of the ground. Pushing past half of the girls, she rubbed at the tears that were fighting to come out. She couldn't believe she was crying because of a gossip. She couldn't believe she was running away from Yunjin who would be the one to comfort in times like this.

She couldn't believe she was dumb enough to even think that the world would accept them. _

A kiss on her neck distracted her from the spam of messages coming from Yunjin about how Matthew asked about her after school. The culprit’s hand pulled the cellular device away from her and placed it on the night stand. Hanbin’s warm hand coming back down to run over the exposed skin of her midriff. A giggle escaped from her lips as he began to lay multiple pecks running down to her collar bone.

Pushing him off slightly, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your attention.” He pouted,” I’m so tired and all I want to do is cuddle with the hottest girl in school.”

“Hottest girl?”

He hushed her, bringing up his index finger to her lips.

“But she’s too busy talking to her friends that she spends 24/7 with.” He dramatically sighed, allowing his body to fall on top of hers. Tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“Oh shut up. I know you chose me as your partner on purpose during that game. I don’t want to place blame on anybody but if you weren’t too hyperfocused on hugging me the whole time, we could’ve won.” No snarky response was heard. Instead, she could feel him breathing in her scent that had her scrunching her neck in response.

“Dude, I probably smell like sweat.”

“No, you smell so good.” His voice muffled,” Like cheese.”

Pushing him off again, she mumbled underneath her breath,” Idiot.”

“I wanted to get out first so I could spend time with you. Don’t act like I don’t know yours and Yunjin’s secrets. But she just had to get out so soon.”

“Well you have me all to yourself now.” Y/N pushed back his hair out of his face. Like a puppy, Hanbin gleamed at the gesture and words that came out her mouth.

"By the way, what's your favorite number?"

"_" She raised her eyebrow up," Why?"

"No reason."

"You sound very guilty right now."

He pulled his phone out and began typing hurriedly on his phone. Y/N propped herself up into a 45 degree angle, trying to get a peek of his screen but Hanbin quickly hid the screen with a devilish smile.

"Heyy…" She began poking his shoulder, hoping to annoy him enough to get him to give in. But instead, Hanbin took the opportunity to roll over and lay his head on her stomach. He grabbed her hand that was poking at his shoulder and began to nibble at her finger.

“Stoooop, you little vampire.”

Hanbin placed her hand onto his chest, bringing his phone up high enough so the both of them could look at his screen.

"You're going to put that number on your jersey?"

"Yeah, I want to show that I'm yours somehow."

"That's pretty smart."

"Told you I was."

"Mhm and that's why this was suppose to be tutoring session for your D on your latest Stats test." Hanbin shushed her before pulling up his Instagram and successfully distracting them again from changing their cuddle session to what it was suppose to be before which was a study session.Occasionally they would laugh at the reels that would pop up but his feed was full of a lot of people she didn’t really know or talk to. So Y/N resorted to playing with the strings of his hoodie. Suddenly the loud commotion of earlier today caught her attention. Looking up, she saw an angle of Matthew’s proposal. Someone had sent a video to the school’s instagram account to post for the Assuming where the camera was, it was his friend that was recording earlier today.

She could feel herself physically cringe at watching it all go down again. Expecting Hanbin to laugh about it, she quickly covered his mouth to intercept any sort of teasing that may come to his head. But instead his face remained stoic and he sat up, her hand falling down to her side. He was hunched over as he rewatched the video again.

To get jealous was rare for Hanbin. In the time frame of their whole relationship, which isn’t long but isn’t too short, Hanbin has never showed any signs of jealousy except for one incident before they started dating. He was pretty confident in himself and the two of them always reassured one another that they were the only ones that had each other’s eyes.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t say no.”

She sat up fully as well, scooching closer to the end of the bed where he sat. “Well, I’m planning to.”

“Why didn’t you say no right then and there? You told me that you did.”

“I just didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends.”

“It seems like you’re going to say yes to the guy.” He pointed at his phone.

“But I’m not. I’m planning to say no.”

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m going to tell him no!” And while they were on this subject, she couldn’t help but bring up something that’s been bothering her as well,” Why aren’t you denying the rumors about Jimin?”

“What rumors?”

“There’s rumors that the two of you were behind the bleachers and that the two of you are together.”

“Well first of all, the girl I was behind the bleachers with was you. And those rumors have been around since the minute people realized that we’re friends and hang out in the same friend group. It’d be weird if I deny them now if I never acknowledged them before. Besides, those rumors have never bothered you until now. Why are they bothering you now?”

“Then why are you so bothered that I’m planning to say no later? You know I wouldn’t go to the dance with somebody else.”

“I asked you last week and you straight up told me no. He asks you and he gets a, “I’ll have to see. ”

Y/N ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “You know why I said no to you.”

Hanbin returned his gaze back to the dark screen of his phone,” Yeah… yeah… I know. Everyone is going to have something to say about you and me and it’s just too much attention.”

“If I told Matthew no right away, I wouldn’t hear the end of it, especially since he did it in front of so many people.”

The two in silence. Both coming to their conclusion. Y/N came to the conclusion that the both of them were in the wrong and getting a little too jealous. But it didn’t feel like everything was said as Hanbin stayed perched at the end of his bed, his phone back on and scrolling through the comments underneath the video. She reached out an arm out to him but he abruptly stood up. He was quick to grab his duffle bag which was tucked away beside her closet.

“I’ve got tryouts.”

“Binnie…” Getting up onto her knees and was about to get up off the bed to walk over to him but he stopped her ,” Cmon..”

Using his hand on her shoulder to guide her back down into her bed, Hanbin leaned a placed a kiss on her forehead, “I'm sorry." He brought his hand up to cut her cheek, running his thumb along her cheek," I overreacted. I'll see you later?" Even though he looked her in the eyes and said that. She struggled to believe him. Reluctantly, she nodded her head slowly. Before she could even utter another word, he was out of the door and down the stairs.

Despite facetiming later that night, Y/N still felt there was something on Hanbin’s mind. Like he still had something to say. That morning too, she didn’t receive a message from him telling her to have a good morning. 

Not that she wanted him to always send it but it was so out of character for him not to. 

So she couldn’t help the pain in her chest when he walked past with her friends like she didn’t exist.  But this was something that was a regular occurrence. She was the one who told him to do that. So why did she want him to look at her? 

A tap of her shoulder shook her out of her shoulder. Turning again, she found Matthew with another flower in his hand. He motioned for Y/N to take it. The girl slowly took it from his hand. Honestly, she was trying to avoid him until after the dance so that the whole proposal would be useless and forgotten but she already knew that was impossible. 

“So?” 

“Matthew… I’m sorry. I can’t go.”

“Didn’t you say it was about money? I could pay for your ticket!” 

For some reason, even though Matthew was in front of her, she couldn’t help but look over at Hanbin who was leaning up against a locker, talking animatedly to his teammates every so often.  

“No… No.. it’s something else. I just can’t go with you.”

“Do you mind me asking why? I mean I know we don’t know each other all that well so I think that this would be a great time for us to get to know each other.” 

“You’re quite persistent, you know?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.” 

“Okay, Matthew, it’s not something else. It’s someone else.” Feeling apologetic, she held his hands in hers ,”It doesn’t feel right for me to go to the dance with someone when I’m completely and utterly in love with someone else.” 

“Is it Hanbin?”

She looked back at him in shock, “Woah, how’d you figure that out so quickly?” 

“I mean, minus the fact that you won’t stop looking over at him, I think the bruise on my leg is clear evidence. He was super nice when everyone first got there and he was even giving me tips but then I mentioned my proposal to other players to make myself look cooler because they were all calling me kid because how short I am and he started getting rough.” 

She knew it. She knew he was still bothered about the proposal. 

“You used me to make yourself look better?”

“ I’m sorry for that. I honestly deserved getting roughed up.” 

“Yeah and for also thinking that I could up your game in any way.” Y/N laughed at the thought but Matthew looking at her with an incredulous look as if she were insane halted her from continuing on. 

“What do you mean? You’re one of the coolest and sweetest girls I’ve ever met. Anybody that could have you would be lucky to have you.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing. “ I just don’t understand why I never see you two together.”

“Well he’s him. And I’m me. People would just look at us weird and question how someone like me could be with someone like him. Like he could do better, you know?” She didn’t know why she was spilling her feelings out to someone she barely knew. But it felt so good to say it aloud. 

“Who cares about what everyone else says?”

“Me. Because I will have to hear the disapproval from everyone and how strange it is that we’re even together.”

“What matters is that the two of you like each other and that’s all that matters. Anybody else that cares and has something to say needs to get a life. And to stop watching so many movies because this is real life and those “status quos” don’t exist.” 

The first bell rang signaling that their first class was about to start in 5 minutes and they needed to go now. Matthew leaned in and kissed Y/N on her cheek before she could deny it. “I truly wish you will take in what I say. Don’t hide your relationships for the sake of people you shouldn’t care about.” 

The younger boy walked away before she could even say anything, leaving her dumbstruck. 

Someone colliding into her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Matthew's word ran over and over again in her head like a broken record. The way he tells her like it's so easy to do so.

Maybe it is if she learned to not care so much.

The second bell warning pulled her out of her mind. The teacher from her calculus was beginning to notice that she was starting to come late to class a lot more than she should be. She bound to pull her aside to talk about it soon. Pivoting around, she rushed up the stairs to her first class. 

Hanbin stood by himself at his locker now. His hands tucked into his jeans as he watched Matthew walk away. His jaw clenched tight as the loud slam of his locker echoed through the empty hall. 

_ 

Apologies spilled from her mouth every millisecond as she hovered through the crowd to get to the entrance of the tunnel where the basketball team gathered. 

The pep rally was about to begin in 10 minutes and she managed to escape from Yunjin and Zhanghao to be able to talk to Hanbin. To talk about their argument last night and their relationship. Because Matthew was right. Why do other people’s opinions matter? But there was still that fear and that voice in her head that told her that wasn’t a good idea.

Finally reaching an area that had some elbow room, she maneuvered past the associated student body to where a large group of boys in the school’s basketball uniform circled around who knows what. Not seeing the face she wanted to, she decided to see if he was more towards the front. 

“Excuse me.” She squished past the sweaty boys and landed at the front where she found the cheerleaders putting face paint on students and athletes. The boy she was looking for had his legs spread out so he could be the same height as the girl in front of him. The girl dangerously close as she held onto his shoulder, her head leaned in to ensure that the lines she was painting on his face were perfect. 

When she leaned back to laugh at something Hanbin said, Y/N realized then and there that it was Jimin. 

She had to think about what she was going to do next. If she was going to do something that she regretted because of that green feeling that was currently bubbling in her chest. First, she knew that Jimin was a sweet girl that would never take another person’s boyfriend and she never cared about her friendship with Hanbin because what she had with him was so secure. Second, she wasn’t so sure how secure they were anymore and it wasn’t like Jimin knew that Hanbin was tied down, it seems like all her actions were definitely advances to something more. 

So now here Hanbin and her in a janitor’s closet where she pulled him away from a confused Jimin. Y/N muttered something along the lines that she had to talk about something from Chemistry despite that class being one that took two years ago in their sophomore year.  As she walked away, she could hear people asking questions such as, “ who is that?” or “If I was Jimin, I’d be upset if someone was touching my man like that.” 

“You expect me to be okay with dating rumors when you’re going around, acting like that?” 

"Y/N, she was just putting face paint on me." His eyes remained away from you and on something in the background. Trying to avoid her glare.

“She’s all over you and it annoys the hell out of me. Yeah, I didn’t care before but I care now.” She couldn’t believe the words that were going to come out next,” If you want her, then go ahead and go for it. But you have to let go of me first.” She didn’t mean a single word.

“Did I actually ever have you?” 

Y/N stopped her prancing in the small room and turned her body to look at Hanbin who was already looking at her.”What do you mean by that?” 

“Sometimes I'm just here for fun. For the pleasure of it all. Our dates consist of hanging out in our houses and occasional dates outside of the city because you are scared to be seen by anybody else. Here, I have to act like you don’t exist and you act like I don’t exist. I want to brag about you to my friends but I can’t. I even have to remind my mom not to say anything about you to them even though she absolutely is in love with you. And I assume you never told yours about me because of how you hid me away from Yunjin. Are you that ashamed to be with me?"

“Binnie-”

“I want to hold your hand when I want to. I want to kiss you when I want to.” And he too could feel that green monster building up again at the memory from earlier today. .

He saw that? Y/N waved her hands and shook her head,”It’s not what it looks. I didn’t know he was going to do that and I wouldn’t have wanted him to do it if I had known. I’ve told you multiple times that Matthew and I have nothing going on.” 

“ Then why aren’t you believing me when I say that Jimin and I aren’t as well. You’re asking why I care so much about Matthew? It’s not Matthew that I care about. It’s the fact you have never been so open to talking to me in public  and you didn’t even push him away when he kissed you even if it was a simple one on the cheek. You didn’t say no to his proposal so now I have to hear whispers about things I know that aren’t true. And I get why you did it so people wouldn’t talk but there is inevitability some. Why can’t you let there be whispers about us?”

She  watched as his face scrunched up, his fingers running along his forehead to massage the tension headache forming. “Y/N, I’m just tired. I’m so tired. Of running around. Of acting like I don’t care that we have to hide.” The pain in the chest made it hard for her to breathe as she could feel the three words threatening to come out of his lips.

Wanting to cut him off to tell him that she didn’t hide them anymore, his phone rang frantically. They let it go to voicemail but right after, it rang again. 

Though the both of them didn't budge a single movement for what felt like the longest time, his phone went off again after the other one finished. Hanbin pulled the device out of his pocket, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll just tell them to go on without me.” 

Before he could lift up the screen to see who it was, Y/N shook her head, “ It’s fine, just go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving us like this again. It’s just a pep rally. I don’t have to be there.” 

“And if you go missing, the whole school will freak out. Personally, I don’t want to be the reason that the school star player is missing.” 

“Y/N, this is it. This is what’s wrong. Who cares about what anybody thinks? Do you not have anything to say about this?” 

“I’m trying, Hanbin! I’m trying. But everyone you miss a basket or the team is having a off day, I have to listen to the crowd talk and assume things about you guys. And most of them talk about you being distracted and having a girlfriend. I don’t want to be blamed for that and have everyone scrutinize me. It’s also the fact that no one could ever imagine you with me. It’s always Jimin. It’s always who the heck is that? whenever they see me with me.  Shit, even Zhanghao can’t imagine us together.”

“But we are. And people are going to have to accept that.” Hanbin hung his head back. “And I’m trying my best to just do what we’ve been doing. Keep our relationship a secret but I can’t find the strength to go on anymore. Because sometimes I feel like I love you more than you love me. And I honestly don’t know if I can stay any longer, feeling that.” 

Her heart thumped at the three words. They haven’t said I love you to one another yet. Always dangerously on the tip of their tongues but never finding the right times to do so.

And this wasn’t the context in which he was hoping he was going to say it.

Her attention shot back into the room when Hanbin’s phone rang again. He cursed under his breath, seeing his Coach’s contact name on the screen this time. “I’ve got to go.” 

A silence granted permisssion to end the converstion. Hanbin slowly grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. Y/N let out a shaky breath as he began to pass her, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“I love you, Hanbin.” 

The sounds of his shoes signaled that he halted in his steps. She could hear him let out a breath of air before starting to speak.

Then the door slammed open. The short, stubby janitor shouting out,” What are you two doing in here?”

(a/n: i meant to put sports, not spots! so sorry for the typo)

After the janitor caught them, his screaming caught the attention of the basketball coach who was searching the hallways from Hanbin. The star basketball player was pulled away from her before he could even reply to her declaration. Though he could see Hanbin struggling to get out of the older man’s grip, looking back at her every so often until they turned the corner to the gym. 

It was true she wasn’t feeling all that well. The dizziness from nervousness and the bile rising up her throat, trying to imagine how it would be if they changed the premise of their relationship. Truely, she needed to lay down before she fell to the cold, dirty ground of the hallways. 

She hoped that he saw it to be true and not said out of desperation to fix their falling relationship. Checking the clock in the corner of the room, she wished the time would go by faster so they could finish their conversation and she could tell him how much he means to her. 

Multiple buzzes from her phone prompted her phone to check whatever her friends had to say now. She could feel her heart drop to her stomach and bile rising up her throat again. This time there was no way to stop it from coming out.

Opening the notification from her friends and repeated tweets from the school's gossip account. The recent headline highlighting Yoo Jimin asks Sung Hanbin to WakeOne's annual winter formal! He says yes! The photos showing different angles of the proposal. A clear look of surprise on Hanbin's face as flowers handed to him from left and right from other cheerleaders. The last photo shocked her gave her a sharp pain in her chest as Chaewon's arms were wrapped Hanbin's neck, his eyes only simply looking down at her face. His hands nowhere near to pushing him off.

Covering her mouth to control her impending sobs, Y/N quickly stood up to run over to the trash can to empty the contents of her stomach. Though Hanbin hadn’t outright said it, she could feel him putting that pause or ending their relationship in the last sentence that he had spoke to her.

He was going to be with someone that treated him right and was perfect for him.

She had her chance and she lost him. 

Turning to look at the school’s nurse, she raised the question if she could stay for the rest of the day to avoid and hide her problems outside of this room but she was already scribbling down a note, shaking her head at the disgusting smell.

_

As the last bell rang, Y/N apologized to the nurse who told her that was nothing and to rest as it seemed like she was sick from stress. And the stress was beginning to take a toll on her body.

Y/N could only imagine if the nurse knew what type of stress she was going through. She would shake her head at the teenage girl.

The nurse began prepping the word and just as Y/N was about to sit down to wait, the door bursted open. A disheveled Yunjin appeared. She slapped a hand against her forehead and shook her head,” No fever.” She grabbed Y/N's face by the chin and twisted it around to check if there was anything abnormal but nothing. “Girl, you look and feel fine. So you left me alone to those heathens for nothing?” 

"Tell that to the three times I've thrown up in the past hour. Guess I should’ve trusted you and just threw away that 6 dollar boba.” 

"I could always buy you a new one. Are you feeling better now?” 

“Yeah kinda..”

Yunjin linked arms with hers,” Great, then, let’s go meet up Zhanghao to check if he made the team or not.”

“I’m actually going to head home right now. I’ll catch the two of you tomorrow at the game-” 

“Oh my gosh, noo! He’d kill us if we forget the promise we made with him.  We have to be there for him to either congratulate him or console him with a dinner.”

“I know but I still don’t feel all that good.” 

Yunjin hummed in response. Although not completely convinced to let Y/N go home. While Y/N waited for the nurse to complete the last of the paperwork, she saw in the corner of her eye a familiar tall figure.

Maybe it was her nerves that prompted her to do so but she grabbed Yunjin who was completely thrown off by the change of energy in the environment. Y/N quickly pulled them both behind a curtain just in time for the door to open again.

"What are you doing-"

Y/N covered the brunette's mouth, peeking through the small slit of the curtain.

Hanbin stood inside of the nurse's office, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. "Hello, by any chance, did a Y/N Y/L/N come by today? I heard some of her friends saying she would be here."

"Oh uhm..." The nurse stumbled over her words. Crossing her fingers behind her back, Y/N hoped that she could read the room and understand what Y/N wanted. "She just left."

"Oh..." Hanbin sighed. "Do you mind if I asking what's wrong with her?"

"Hanbin, you know I can't disclose other student's health with you."

A soft chuckle filled the air and Y/N feel her heart warm at the sound. But it was still heavy with the news she read only two hours before.

"I get that. Can you just let me know if she's okay?"

"She's alright."

She could see him slowly nod and tuck his hands behind his back before bowing. "Thank you. Have a good rest of your day, I'll see you at the game tomorrow."

"Good luck tomorrow, Hanbin."

She waited for sound of the door clicking close before taking her hand off of Yunjin's mouth. Thanking the nurse profusely for lying for her despite not knowing the situation, she could feel a tug on her sweater. Turning to look at Yunjin whose face was decorated in so much shock that it was almost comical, " Why are you acting so weird? And was that Hanbin just looking for you?"

"I can explain."

_

"Wait, then why did he say yes to Jimin?" Yunjin scoffed, shaking her head.

Y/N hugged her pillow close to her chest. The tears beginning to fall again. She managed to hold herself together as she confessed about the secret relationship between Hanbin and her but the reminder that they were potentially over clouded her mind. She shrugged in response.

"That makes no sense though. Because he never actually broke up with you."

Zhanghao sighed and grabbed tissues from her desk, handing them over to her.

"I'm sorry."

The two girls looked up at him in confusion. In the years that they've all been friends, they have never heard those two words come out of Zhanghao's mouth. He was very unashamed of his actions and if he was ever sorry for something, he would show it through his actions.

"That I was pushing Matthew on you. That I kept saying that Hanbin wouldn't look your way."

"You're not wrong though, Hao. He wouldn't have paid attention to me if it wasn't for us having the same part time job during summer."

"Y/N, don't say that." Yunjin nudged her with her shoulder.

"You’re absolutely gorgeous. You both are. And I kept making comments like you were less than what you are."

"It's fine, Hao."

"Yeah but still I was such a dick."

"You were just trying to help me get over him. Nothing wrong with that."

Zhanghao fell back into the plethora of stuffed animals tucked in the corner. Though all was forgiven, the male couldn't stop the feeling of embarrassment and shamefulness he felt from how he acted in the last week.

Yunjin all of a sudden began giggling which earned confused looks from the other two poeple in the room. "He was so jealous then."

A smile perked up on Zhanghao's pout, " That's right! He was going so hard on Matthew that one day at tryouts. I feared for his life."

Yunjin tickled Y/N's side, her tongue sticking out," Look at you having two boys fighting over you."

"Dude, it was making me so sick. I can't even act like I could brag about it because it was stressing me out so much."

"That explains why he was asking the nurse about you. Aw, Y/N, he was looking for you!"

"Yeah... after he said yes to Jimin during the pep rally."

"I don't know if he even said yes to her. Everything happened so quick and he didn't even smile or do anything through the whole thing." Zhanghao tapped his chin," He was just... in shock."

A sudden knock on her door silenced them all. Peeking in was her mother. "Honey... Hanbin is downstairs."

Plushies flew each side of the room as her two friends scrambled to leave the room through the window but Y/N stopped them. She kneeled to the end of her bed," Can you tell him I'm sleeping already? That I'm still sick from earlier today?"

Her mother frowned before nodding, shutting the door behind her.

"Why are you avoiding him?" Zhanghao questioned, crossing his arms together," And are you not getting his texts or calls?"

"I... blocked him."

"What? Why?"

"Hao, I just don't want to deal with all of this right now. It's too overwhelming."

"If you avoid your problems, they only get worse."

"I just need some time to think about everything, okay? I feel like I got the ultimatum that I have to choose having our relationship public or losing him. Then I also think that Jimin is so much better for him because if he's with her, it'd be so much easier because she's used to the attention. "

"But he doesn't like her, he wants you." Zhanghao waved his hands from left to right," Hence why he was crying over a photo of you and him."

Y/N covered her face with the pillow that was still in her arms," I know... I know... but if he was with her, he wouldn't have to even deal with this bullshit."

Yunjin wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulder, "I get what you're thinking but he seems like he's all in for you."

"I know... I know... I just don't know if I'm ready. I thought I was. And what if I just disappear from his life. Act like I never in it like I was before. Then he could get over him."

"So you're just going to avoid him until when?"

"Not forever. I just need a moment to think to myself. I've already heard what he has to say."

"So you're just going to let Jimin swoop up and take your man like that?"

"What? No? Yes? I don't know." Y/N abruptly stood up, shocking both of her friends. "You guys are suppose to be helping me but instead you're making me want to throw up some more." Speaking of which, she could her stomach beginning to rumble and the feeling of something up her throat. Stumbling over sheets and pillows to the bathroom, she shut the door behind her. Praying that the fan would cover the noise.

Zhanghao huffed and pulled out his phone. Yunjin decided to keep quiet and watch the show that was put on before Zhanghao came over. When he becomes stressed or annoyed, he tended to find comfort in his phone especially when he's trying to calm down and not blow up on the person he was talking to.

But at that moment, he was currently texting Hanbin to tell him the truth. For two reasons he did so. One, so he didn't have to watch his friend mope around. He disliked seeing Y/N upset especially when she begins to self deflect herself. Two, so he doesn't want to have his teammate mope around when their first scrimmage is tomorrow. While it wasn't a real game, it was still a pretty big deal.

After Zhanghao and Yunjin left, Y/N went downstairs to wash and put away the dishes that they used. Sitting on the couch was her mother, catching up on the shows she missed while at work. In front of her on the coffee table was a white pharmacy bag and bento boxes that were opened up. She walked over to see Mrs.Sung's infamous rolled egg omelette.

She always mentioned to the older lady that she makes the best.

"What's this?"

"Hanbin brought this earlier when he came by. He told me you went to the nurse's earlier that day?"

Y/N sat down and nodded. "Wasn't feeling too well."

"Well, he brought you medicine. Mrs.Sung made you congee. It's on the stove."

Using her finger, she took a peek into the bags and boxes. She could her heart melting at the sight, a note at the bottom of the bag from Hanbin. The message was short with the simple words of Get Well Soon but it meant so much more. The way he went home after practice and still came by her house to drop all of these things off despite it being a bunch of back and forth.

She could feel her mom side eyeing her and honestly, she would too.

The words replaying in her head of how he felt like he was more in love with her than she was with him. Which simply just wasn't the truth and it pained her heart to ever think that he thought that way because her actions are what prompted him to believe so.

She pulled out her phone to text Yunjin and Zhanghao if they could help her for what she was conjuring up in her head. She passed Hanbin's contact in her favorites. Debating if she should unblock him or not. Scared of what's to come next. But in order to get to the next step, she had to. Quickly, she unblocked his contact.

Soon, a spam of notifications appeared. Stating that she had 6 new notifications from messages.

As she read through the messages he sent her, her vision began to blur from the tears brimming her eyes. Hearing those words written out so beautifully by him.

Cursing herself for realizing it too late. Through every comment she's heard that upset or scared her, she was given the constant reassurance by him that she'll be safe with him. Through everytime she considered that they should break up, she always told herself that Hanbin is worth it all.

Hanbin will always be worth the pain.

_

Though she tried to talk to Hanbin earlier in the day so that it wouldn't seem like she was ignoring his texts from the night prior, it seemed like the world wasn't against her today.

Because of the game tonight, the basketball team was able to leave during PE so she missed him in their last two classes that they shared together. She was able to conjure the confidence to walk up to him during lunch but she pulled away from the planning committee to help plan for the class floats that were going to come out during halftime.

At least he knew that she was going to talk to him and wasn't planning to ignore him until the school year was over. His wide eyes and the clear shout from down the hall, telling her to come to the game tonight, an indiction of so.

It was better this way especially since she wanted to surprise him tonight and she knew she could never hide anything as big as this from him. So this no talking period between them both pained and relived her.

It also gave her more time to sneak around and plan her surprise for him in the period that she was waiting for the game to start with Yunjin. They had planned to grab some hotpot to fill their stomachs but Zhanghao forgot his shoes because of first game jitters so they had to go to his house and grab them. And while they did this task for him, he also complained that he needed it before the warmups started and told them not to take so long. Text messages rushing in every other minute to check up on where they are. He was unknowingly rushing them but they let it slide this time because they will never understand men's weird obsession with smelly clothes being their good luck charm and that it was his first game.

After giving the princess his stinky shoes, the two girls went to a nearby dollar tree to get the materials she needed for what she wanted to prepare for Hanbin. Yunjin dropped Y/N back at home so that the two of them could get some rest before heading out to the game. Yunjin asked Y/N if she wanted her to pick her up but being the person she is that didn't want to inconvenience anybody, Y/N insisted that she would walk there especially since it was still going to be light out when the game started.

She had so much running around today so who could blame her for falling asleep on the couch while watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy?

Maybe then if she took Yunjin up on the offer, she wouldn't have woken up to about 35 missed calls and 60 unread texts combined from both of her best friends. She wouldn't be frantically trying to grab everything and pay for an uber to school so she could get there before the game ended.

She slept through three and half quarters. With only 10 minutes remaining in the game.

Surprisingly with how fast she threw everything together and rushed out of the house to get into the car, she didn't trip over her foot once as she stumbled out of the uber. Leaving a hefty tip for the middle aged man who had to deal with her asking if he could drive any faster despite there being traffic to the school.

Struggling to catch her breath, she saw a large crowd of people exiting the gym. Confirming the worst possibility of all the possibilities.

The game ended on her and Hanbin was left thinking that she flaked on him.

Running towards the entrance, she immediately found Yunjin who grabbed the girl by her shoulder and pushed her away the crowd that stampeding out.

"Y/N! I tried calling and texting you. Where were you?"

"For the life of me, I could not wake up."

Yunjin sighed and began to rub her forehead in frustration," The balloons are still in my car and they should still be inflated. The game just ended and they should still be getting ready to go home."

"Then we have enough time."

"We have enough time."

Y/N took a deep breath, a shaky one that was filled so much anxiety.

"Hey, you don't have to do this. A man's love is not worth risking it all for something that you are not yet comfortable to do."

Y/N quickly shook her head," No, I want to. This is for him and for me."

Yunjin gave her a tight, warm hug," You'll do great. If all goes wrong, I'm just a phone call away and Hao will be nearby." And a quick second, the soft Yunjin was gone. A strict look on her face as she pointed her head towards the large tree at the side of the school," Let's get to work."

_

Y/N nervously tapped her foot against the pavement, crossing her arms together to gather warmth as a strong gust of wind flew by.

The sound of boys yelping and clammering of the locker room gained her attention, turning her head to find Hanbin in the crowd.

Because they are teenage boys, everyone looked the same especially after taking a shower. There were no differences in hair to tell them apart. Ignoring the side eyes and quick glances, she stepped closer to the entrance just to make sure she didn't miss.

Accidentally bumping into strong frame that immediately caught her.

"Y/N!" Matthew cheered, a wide smile at her appearance. " I didn't know you were coming tonight!"

"Oh... yeahh..." Y/N smiled softly back, her eyes darting from his face to whoever was coming up behind him.

"Did you see the basket I got? It was so intense because all of the guys from the other team were like ganging up on me and honestly I kinda rushed to throw the ball and it actually got in."

Y/N's mouth dropped down in shock," Dang, that's some real talent. But I'm sorry, I didn't get to see it. I... missed like the whole game."

"Wait then why are you here?"

Y/N leaned down to whisper," I'm actually going to ask Hanbin to homecoming."

Matthew's gasp came out louder than Y/N expected, his hands clasping down together with hers. "Dude no way!" He quickly pushed her into his arms and wrapped her into a hug as he swung their bodies left to right," I'm so proud of you. It's going to be great. I can't wait for you guys to-"

Y/N quickly pushed Matthew off when she opened her eyes and found Hanbin standing at the entrance, only a few feet away from them. He was already focused in the position the two were in, his eyes wide. When he finally snapped out of it, the emotions ran dry from his face as he cleared his throat.

"By all means, do not let me interrupt."

"Crap." Y/N and Matthew mumbled underneath their breaths as Hanbin began to storm off in the direction of the parking lot.

Without bidding a goodbye to Matthew, Y/N ran after the boy. His long legs benefitting him as whenever she thought she was caught up to him, she wasn't.

"Hanbin!" She yelled, her voice cracking as she never really spoke that loud unless she really needed to.

He stopped in his steps but continuing on.

Groaning out of frustration, she quickly ran again to grab his arm and made him face her. "Hanbin, please."

"No!" He threw her hand of his arm," You didn't text me back all night. And then I see you with Matthew. Y/N, you could've just told me what you wanted and spared me the shock because I'm already heartbroken as is."

Not finding the right words to say in the heat of the moment, Y/N pulled him in the direction of the soccer field.

Hanbin didn't resist but questions spurred out every second, telling her to say something or asking where she was taking him.

As they reached closer to the tree, she couldn't find which one it was as she couldn't seem to find the decorations that Yunjin and her rushed to do in 10 minutes. Curses sprang from her mouth when she finally found the sign. Only the sign. That wrote out Wanna Dance? in Zhanghao's chicken writing.

She immediately dropped Hanbin's hand, looking at the bare trees that no longer had his favorite colored balloons tied to them. And the lights that were scattered throughout the grass with the flowers all over the place. It looked like a tornado had blew through this place.

This was suppose to be perfect.

But it was all ruined because they didn't read the wind advisory warnings or tie down everything tight enough so that it would stay.

Tears quickly brimmed her eyes, turning back to look at Hanbin who still hadn't said anything or gave any type of reaction which worried her more.

"Binnie... I swear there was so much more. I wouldn't... I wouldn't do something as basic as this. I had everything planned and it was so pretty when I finished setting it up with Yunjin." The salty tears ran down to her mouth, causing her to involuntarily bring her hand up to rub at her eyes. Between sobs, she whispered underneath her breath," I had it all planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you because you've done so much me and I love you so much. I wanted to prove to show you that I love you just as much, if not more, as you do."

She kept rambling on and on how everything was ruined.

She would've jolted if not for the fact that his warm touch was comforting on her skin. His hands pulling her arms down so that her hands were off his face.

"Binnie... I'm so sorry. I understand if you don't want to get-"

Lips halted her mid-apology. Hanbin's cupping her cheek as he moved his lips against hers. He pushed in harder, encouraging her to join him which she did. Her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes fluttering close as their lips fought eagerly against each other.

"Don't finish that sentence." His lips connecting against hers before he pulled away to catch his breath," You know I'll always want you. I love you."

BONUS:

The group's instagram stories after Y/N and Hanbin made their relationship public.

(a/n: hello, this fic is heavily unedited so plz lmk if any part seems funky or sounds weird. i also slightly rushed the end so i apologize if it seems like that. thank you for reading. i love and appreciate you! <3)

[thetasteofolives]

Hi friends!

I will tell you about a girl, Reemas (14 yo), that's trying to help her family to evacuate the strip and help her mother, that has breast cancer and unfortunately cannot get the treatment needed for her condition. I am communicating with her almost everyday through Instagram (and with also her brothers, Mamhoud and Mohammed Khalil), and their campaign is not growing at all in these months.

It would make a HUGE difference if you can help them, even with a small amount.

I usually donate them regularly but I cannot afford all their expenses (I wish I could, really). So, I will leave their links in this post so you can reach out for them and try to help, as much as you can.

Here are the links (Reemas):

(Mahmoud's):

(Mohammed):

https://gofund.me/31fa9d5a

Every cent is worth, even just a share can make a HUGE difference in their situation.

THANK YOU!

@90-ghost

@thedigitalbard @fundraise-blog @gofundmereach-blog @determinate-negation @gaza-donation-spread @autisticmudkip

[eun-luv]

OMGGGG- IM FR TWEAKING RN!!??🫢

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH😭 I started this blog just to get on my sisters nerves but I Fr met some AMAZING people on this app I LITERALLY LOVE YOU GUYS SMM✨😍😌🥹💗 I LOVE OPENING THIS APP KNOWING THERE ARE SO MANY BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING PEOPLE ON HERE and there were times I thought about quitting and continuing my story on wattpad MANY MANY TIMES😭 but I’m so glad I stayed

ALSO- PLEASE don’t think I forgot about hosting an event I’m working on it HELP-😭🥹 IM A BIG PROCRASTINATOR GUYS

I feel like you guys barely🥱 know me so if you have anything you wanna know about me JUST DROP AN ASK please I feel like a YouTuber😭

ANYWAYS THANK GUYS LOVE YOU🤭🥹😭😍💗

My favorite blogs no order- @y-vna @prissoul @pommecita @kissablening @stareesm @gyustarzzi2 @ivsjake4evr @p-oisn @v-ari @i08wony @rema-2007 @yeritos @111krna @haerins00 @h-anis @wintercitos @rinnaanewjeans @jaes1lvr @nanaluvzcake @7hyein @enhypenissoslay @flu3rkoo @y8ves @antoxxn @mxlly143 @0hanasei @i4mnari @bunchofroses07 @chiiyuuvv +MANY MANY MORE⭐️

[opencommunion]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, progress as been stagnating. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

Thanks for sharing!!

Everyone please support this campaign! £3,770 / £15,000 — as anon said, this goal can be reached very quickly if everyone reblogs and donates whatever they can spare!

I was able to donate £8, can anyone match it?

[mangocheesecakes]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, progress as been stagnating. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

Hi there. Thank you for sending this in. This fundraiser has been posted by user @/sar-soor and as anon has mentioned, it can be found on gazafunds.com

Please consider sending donations their way. Their goal is £15,000 and as of writing this post they are only at £3,140.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Ok I can focus again would you be willing to write elucien fluff where lucien runs warmer than usual and elain likes to steal his warmth whenever

Thanks so much for sending! This is absolutely adorable, and I fully support Lucien warming Elain up. Especially with that Autumn Court fire and that [redacted]. Anyways! Hope you enjoy this short and sweet and fluffy drabble :) And happy @elainweekofficial! This is perfect for Day 2: Love Languages

Elain crosses her arms tightly across her chest, rubbing her hands up and down her forearms as she sniffles quietly. She squints down at the kettle sitting above the flame, willing it to boil faster. When she was younger, her mother would always remind her that a watched pot never boils, but Elain is determined to prove that wrong now. She shifts back and forth on her feet, the movement and slide of her thighs helping slightly to relieve the goosebumps pebbling across her skin.

The sound of bubbling water finally reaches her ears, and Elain excitedly turns off the stove. She pulls the two teacups she had set aside closer to her, carefully picking up the kettle and pouring it over the loose leaves inside each. While that steeps, she grabs a small plate, piling it with the sweet blueberry pastries she made the other day.

She adds milk to both cups and a spoonful of sugar to one before setting everything on a tray, carefully walking everything into the sitting room and placing the tray on the low table in front of the sofa. She picks up the teacup with just milk first, turning and holding it out.

“Thanks, love,” Lucien murmurs, taking the offered teacup.

Elain picks up her own teacup and the plate of pastries, and then she sits down. Right in Lucien’s lap. Lucien lets out a surprised sound, spluttering into his tea, but Elain doesn’t let it deter her. Instead, she presses back even closer into his chest, letting out a contented sigh.

“Comfortable?” Lucien teases lightly, chuckling lowly.

“Very,” Elain tells him primly, taking a slow sip of her tea. “I’m cold and you’re warm.”

“Perhaps if you were wearing more clothing, you wouldn’t be so cold.”

Elain looks down pointedly at her bare legs, at the shirt that she’s wearing. Lucien’s shirt. With his tall frame, it’s too big on her, the hem hitting halfway down her thigh and the collar already sliding down her shoulder. But it’s light and comfortable, and if Elain tips her chin down, the scent of cinnamon and the forest after it’s rained floods her senses.

“I suppose I can change into one of my dresses instead,” Elain starts with faux innocence, making to stand back up, but Lucien’s free arm wraps tightly around her waist, tugging her right back down. She bites back a smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

Lucien hums quietly but he doesn’t say anything more. He leans forward enough that he can set his teacup back on the low table. It frees up his other hand, which he uses to brush Elain’s hair over her shoulder and out of the way, exposing where the collar and sleeve of the shirt has slipped. Lucien presses his lips against her shoulder, against the smattering of freckles that have bloomed there from her days spent in the sun tending to her garden, tracing a path of kisses along her skin until he reaches the junction with her neck.

Elain lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head to give him better access. Her pulse flutters beneath his lips when Lucien reaches her pulse point, and she can hear his own heart beating to match the melody. Elain lets her eyes fall close, melting back into his embrace, his warmth. The bond between them shimmers, a welcome weight in her chest.

“Besides,” Elain continues, her voice a quiet murmur. “Who needs clothes when I have a mate to keep me warm.”

“As my lady commands.”

Lucien wraps both his arms properly around Elain’s waist, fingers splayed wide against her. Heat blooms in his hands, radiating across Elain’s skin and settling deep in her bones, chasing away any semblance of cold until the warmth that is only Lucien remains. His hands travel to her arms next, sliding down from her shoulders to her wrists then back up again, each pass of his hands a soothing balm. Their final destination is her thighs, the touch even warmer from skin on skin contact. The shudder that Elain has to suppress has nothing to do with being cold, and if Lucien wasn’t such a firm presence at her back, Elain is confident she’d melt straight through the throw pillows and cushions.

“Better?” Lucien breathes against her ear.

Elain turns her head enough that she can meet his gaze properly. Gold and russet each glinting equally in the afternoon sun spilling through the sheer curtains on the windows. His lips are still a bit red and kiss bitten from their late morning spent in bed, and the left corner of them ticks up in a smirk as if Lucien knows exactly where her mind has wandered to.

Elain can’t say she minds. She’d happily spend the afternoon with a repeat of their morning. Even more so, she’d happily spend her afternoon right here, curled up together on the sofa, basking in Lucien’s warmth. With his smirks and his teasing comments and that smile he gets on his face when he thinks she isn’t looking but she knows is just for her. With the happiness and the love that’s taken root so deep between her ribs, threatening to bloom straight through her chest. With her and her mate and this home they’ve built for the two of them.

“Much better.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog​ @lifeisntafantasy​ @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl​ @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust​ @a-trifling-matter​ @blueunoias​ @kookskoocie​ @cassiansbigwingspan​ @unlikelypersonalknight1​ @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones

[librarycards]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, progress as been stagnating. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

Thank you for sharing this. Here is the link to donate directly to this vetted and well-documented campaign:

I wish infinite refuah shemla | healing to all suffering under znist occupation and genocide. Free Palestine & support in any way you can.

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

hi! sorry this is so abrupt, but i was hoping that you could boost this gofundme campaign. it has been vetted by gazafunds (you can check by searching "help the helpless mother & her 3 children in gaza" in https://gazafunds.com/all). there are also unique photos and videos in their gofundme description!

al-ameen was a three-year-old with leukemia who passed away on may 14th after his family has unable to afford medical treatment. this campaign is for his mother and remaining three siblings: ahmed, rema and mohammed. they have had no source of income since their father went missing months back. this family has already been through unthinkable loss. it's the least we can do to support them in a time of grief and crisis.

here is the link to their campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/financial-help-for-the-family-of-alameen

the campaign goal is extremely reachable at only £15,000. however, it hasn't even reached a third of the goal. i've been promoting al-ameen's family's campaign on my personal blog, but i simply do not have very much reach. it would mean so much if you could share this link!!

yes absolutely! thank u for sharing this.

[princesstarfire1234]

I saw your RMA Post but before i ask, first i love your artstyle its so beautiful and each time i see it, it makes my day :] and second what are your thoughts of S2 part 1 and 2? And if you can rewrite it what will it be?

Aha hello!! I didn't think that RMA post would actually catch any eyes but I'm it did!!

First off, thank you so much! It's the best feeling ever knowing my art can make people happy just like that :]]

As for your question, I recently just rewatched a good chunk of S2 Part 2 but some of the details around the later bits are still fuzzy (rewatching em is quite hard for me as the english dubs aren't exactly that easy to find out there unfortunately)

I will say though, rewatching it really opened my eyes to just how much of a downgrade Part2 is compared to S1 and even just S2 Part1 itself, not just in story but in like the voice acting and animation. The voice direction is a bit off, characters sound flat, and the animation just feels... weirder, if that makes sense. It's not the worst thing in the world though, it's just an unfortunate thing I happen to notice. They also changed some of the VAs I think (liek Rema's) which was a strange decision but alright ig... There's also the reusing of so many games instead of new ones but oh well... Despite all my problems with it though, I like the inclusion of the new characters (Manus and all the other Leos Valiants). The Leos are all such silly guys :]] I do wish the DV7s got more screentime and played a bigger role though, the first episode for part2 really fooled me into thinking they would lmaoo

S2 Part1 still holds up, certainly not as good as S1 but still, it's got charm! I love the setting actually, Old City is such a bright and colorful place with like all these abstract and messed up winding pathways, it's so weird and funkyy, I dig it a lot!

So pretty!! God... just like how funky the cities look with all of them being like giant floating islands, it will always be cool af to me

Ik most of my followers don't care about runningman much but in the off chance some non-rma fan sees this, look at Tree City (pic below), I love it so much

Although... sometimes it really does feel like Season 2 is where the studio decided to lean more into it being a children's show. It's a lot less "dark" compared to S1 which is a tad disappointing. Like just compare Akong's battle (where the dude literally uses a bunch of the old guys to power up his thingy 😭) compared to CG's big mech fight. Still, I liked it! I like the neat guardians (the lil pullulu spirits who guard the gate, Vivace and Ensemble twins my beloved <3).

ALSO ALSO THE IRON BEAST, I can always appreciate a big robot guy aha

That's all I really got for the ramble aha, I'd say more stuff about S2 and maybe my views on it will change overtime but as of now, I haven't even really gotten around to properly finishing it yet. I remember watching it waaayyy back but it was all in korean with zero subtitles 😭 luckily, I am in a server with people sharing english versions so I'll probably watch those when I get more free time!

I really just miss talking about this show really and I feel like I've largely outgrown the fandom in old spaces where I used to talk in (like Facebook groups and Amino lmfaoo), so it's absolutely awesome to find RMA fans over here on tumblr!