#the escape pod only has room for two

[raining-anonymously]

hnfjdj something something stanley and the narrator escape the parable and try to start a normal life together only to realize they left the other 599(?) employees behind

[peachsayshi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁ MILLION DOLLAR BABY  ₊ ⊹ .

(sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader)

⊹ tags: suguru geto x female reader; nanami kento x satoru; sukuna is reader's ex; character mentions: yuki, mei mei, shoko, toji; alludes to dd/lg relationship (very very mildly) with sukuna; a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; reader was in a toxic relationship; reader has daddy issues a bit lol; mentions of troubled past; mentions of death (parental)

:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you’ve never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. luckily, there's someone else who captures your heart. what does it matter that you pay him for his company?

:note: hi, everyone! this story is finally here, and it's one that's taken me forever to work but I actually loved this piece. I haven't been excited about something I've written in a while. I hope it lives up to all your expectations. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3 - this fic is one shot, and I am willing to explore stories with the side characters. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding sex worker geto x rich girl reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 14K+

The ceiling is covered with hanging irises, each one carefully handcrafted in paper. Edison bulbs dip down from between in staggering heights, illuminating the bar around you in warm light. It’s crowded tonight, clinking glasses and roaring laugher bouncing off the walls and clashing against the bass coming through the speakers. You scan the crowd, anticipation making your stomach flutter, but it quickly eases when you spot a head of golden hair among the audience. 

Nanami is at the bar, looking dapper as usual in a chocolate brown suit offset by a cream colored shirt. He’s drinking a whiskey when you approach him, the amber liquid mirroring the touch of bronze on his cheekbones. You sling your designer purse off your shoulder (the latest splurge of the week) and slide into the seat right next to him. 

“And how was your vacation?” you ask, greeting him with a question and noticing his mouth draw into a firm line. 

“Let’s not talk about it,” he insists, his eyes a little sad which only makes your stomach ache at the sight. 

He’s your closest friend - the only real friend you have. Kento Nanami doesn’t carry two faces. He sticks to the one that he has.  As one of the top investors in the country, he made a name by keeping the rich wealthy. He loathes his job and the pressures surrounding it - a walking hypocrite for despising the life that lines his pockets. 

He can’t find an escape no matter how hard he tries. 

And that's why you’re both two peas in a pod. 

He does, however, like you - not because of your background, but because you don’t try to be something that you are not as well. In a world where you are surrounded by parasites, Kento proved to be a nearly extinct butterfly, quietly fluttering by your side as you both drift across the harsh jungle around you. 

You concede, knowing better than to push his buttons. “Okay, I guess we aren’t talking about it…” 

“Tell me something else. Do you ever know how to walk into the room and not be the center of attention?” 

You smirk as he calls the waiter over.  Your presence easing the twinge of disdain on his face.

“What are you trying to say, hmm?” 

“You look nice tonight. New dress?” 

“New dress, new bag, new nails...” you list off, showing off each expensive purchase as you check them off your list. 

Nanami shakes his head playfully before ordering your usual once the bartender approaches. He angles his body towards you and breathes out a heavy sigh. 

“How are you?” He asks, genuine concern masking his face. 

Your shoulders drop. “I don’t want to talk about it…” 

His expression softens, one hand moving to touch your thigh exposed by the slit of your dress. 

“When do you meet Naoya?” 

He’s the only other person who knows about the pending engagement. The only person who offered you a way out by proposing instead. Despite his stance within the social community, you know that it’s not an offer that you can easily accept. 

Kento wasn’t bred into this world, and that makes all the difference. 

Your father would never accept a man from such a humble background. Especially not one whose offer wouldn't benefit him by any means.

“A few weeks from now,” you reply, eyes shifting to the bartender who passes your drink towards you. “He’s given my father specifications on how I should be presented…” 

Your friend scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pardon my vulgarity but he just sounds like the kind of guy who wants to swing his dick around. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up tonight…” 

The opening of the Ayame Lounge & Bar was invite only, exclusive to socialites and the elite. You know that Naoya must have received an invitation, everyone from the Zen’in family was here in attendance including the infamous outcast Toji. 

“He wouldn’t be caught dead here,” you inform, picking up your beverage and taking a small sip. “Naoya likes to uphold “tradition” but we all know it’s just a facade.” 

Kento’s thumb strokes your skin tenderly, worry ingrained in his gentle eyes. 

The two of you spend the night talking, catching up on the little things since his return from a two week vacation in Malaysia. He keeps the conversation light, telling you about his fantastic accommodation and all the food that he ate while he was away. In between you find yourself glancing over his shoulder, your eye on the crowd taking in the people around you. 

That’s when you spot him, standing just a few feet away, looking like a demigod among mere aristocrats. His hair is pulled back into a neat bun, a layer of his bangs kissing his forehead. His face is serious, jaw tight and eyes sharp as he focuses on his white haired counterpart. The black tee hugs his torso, his neat slacks cinched by the waist with a leather belt. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip, your mind drifting away from the conversation at hand. 

Your friend notices, of course. Kento is so tuned in to everything around him that he almost can’t help himself. He glances over his shoulder to see what caught your attention, only to instantly turn back around and stare at the whiskey glass on the table. 

The tips of his ears burn red. 

You register the response, knowing exactly what struck him to react in that way. 

Satoru Gojo -  former porn star, turned model, turned mega influencer. With a follower count in the hundreds of millions, he is the world’s hottest it boy. Nobody can deny his sheer beauty - whenever he walks into a room, he manages to steal a glance from every single person within his vicinity. Due to a rare genetic condition, his sapphire blue eyes and frosty white hair earned him the title of “The Prince”, and the people were desperate to share a place by his side. 

Suguru and Satoru were also the best of friends, a fact that Suguru revealed to you one night in bed. The two of them met on set, back when Satoru was still doing adult films. At the time, Suguru was just a camera man and it was Satoru who told him he could increase his earnings if he just performed instead. 

You remember telling Suguru: “it’s crazy how quickly his life changed”

“Some people are just lucky,” he responded, though you easily picked up the bitterness laced in his words. 

What most people don’t know is that Satoru Gojo is also involved with the man seated right next to you. You stumbled upon Nanami’s secret affair by accident when the two of you attended a resort opening by hotel heiress, Yuki Tsukumo. Everyone was invited to stay overnight for the weekend, and the morning after your first night there, you walked over towards Nanami’s room to grab some breakfast. He greeted you in a grey robe with his hair tousled, with hickeys trailing the side of his neck. You quirked a brow in his direction, your mouth forming into a blatant circle when you found Satoru Gojo fast asleep on his bed right behind him. 

The man in question looks away from Suguru towards you and Kento. His brows lifting in surprise when he spots your golden haired friend, but your eyes rest on Suguru who gestures that he will catch Satoru around. 

They both walk in opposite directions. 

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes shifting to Nanami. 

“You’ve got about five seconds to figure out what you want to say because Satoru is walking over here as we speak,” you inform. 

He exhales and straightens his back, his guard entirely up. 

You smile at Satoru when he approaches you, his pearly whites radiant as always. 

“Hi!” He says casually, though you can hear a touch of apprehension in his voice. “Mind if I cut in?” 

“Not at all!” you respond, “Can I get you a refill?” 

His cheeks blush a subtle shade of pink, the tiny gesture making you understand how easily it is to fawn over such a beautiful face. “It’s just soda, but sure” 

“Not drinking tonight?” You continue, glancing between him and Nanami as you wait for your friend to interject. 

“Actually, I’m three years sober,” he explains. 

“Good for you!” You cheer honestly, before turning to the bartender and ordering him another soda. 

From your peripheral vision you see him inch closer towards your friend. 

“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he states, though his voice comes across as a little small. 

“I’ve been busy,” Nanami curtly replies, and your brows furrow at his unusual tone. 

“Too busy to even say hi?” Satoru continues, his voice low enough that only the three of you can hear each other. 

“Aren’t you here with a date?” Nanami chides, glancing up at him with a mocking eye. 

“Utahime isn’t my date, we both got invited together by our agency…” Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Besides, I was hoping to spend time with you. I haven’t heard from you since Kuantan…” 

Nanami’s face burns an even brighter shade of crimson, the intimacy of Satoru’s comment flaring his humiliation. 

“Come on,” the white haired prince teases, attempting to ease the discomfort. “Don’t be such a grump. Let’s go outside. Get a little fresh air.” 

You can see that people are starting to stare at the three of you. 

Wherever Satoru goes, eyes follow him. 

While he may be immune to the attention, you can clearly see that Nanami is not. 

“No, thank you.” 

“What? You going to make me beg?” Satoru presses cheekily, but there is a twinge of desperation in his voice. 

“Begging is not difficult for somebody like you,” Nanami bites, and you can’t help but glare at him in shock. 

“Kento!” you chastise, but the look on his face speaks volumes. 

Regret. 

Instantaneous Regret. 

In front of him is a visible hurt that breaks Satoru’s face, like paint slowly chipping away. His eyes gloss over, and he anxiously rubs his hand over the back of his undercut before excusing himself and turning on his heel. 

Nanami covers his face with his palm, while you can only stare at him in disbelief. 

“How can you say that to him? I thought you liked him!” You whisper. 

“I-I didn’t mean to-” 

“You act like you’re ashamed of him whenever he’s around you…” 

Nanami avoids your eye, “How do you think this makes me look? I can’t have people seeing us together. I don’t want the world to swallow me up just because he prefers being gawked at by everyone around him” 

“That’s his job - it’s how he earns a living. I can’t believe you would degrade him over it,” you shake your head, unaware of where your sudden defenses are coming from.

“I know that…” 

“Is that why you don’t want to talk about your trip? Did something happen?” 

The man grows quiet, a sigh escaping him. 

“I broke up with him” 

“You what?” You gasp. 

“It'll never work. Our lives are too different” 

“You didn’t even give him a chance, Ken. He likes you. He really, really likes you.” 

“What chance is there to give? My life would come apart because of him. He would never be truly mine. I would have to share him with the rest of the world day in and day out. And the worst part is that…what should be intimate between us will never be ours either. Do you know that he’s still the highest streamed porn star in the world-” 

“He’s just a person. A person like me and you. Neither one of us chose this life. I didn’t ask to be born into my family, and you weren’t asked to save yours from debt. Yet, here we are. Existing in a world that we had to carve out for ourselves. Don’t you think the same applies to him?” 

You take another sip of your drink, your cheeks warming with anger at your friend’s condescending tone towards Satoru. 

Although, you find your reasons for defending him to be far more self serving. 

“So what if he sells his body? That’s his choice to make. Does it change anything else about him? Does it change his feelings for you?” You lecture, “I can’t believe that you be this ungrateful over skewed morals. If you both care about each other, there is no reason why you can’t be together. Take it from somebody who’ll probably never get the chance. This isn’t something you want to simply let go of, Kento. You’ll regret this decision for the rest of your life.”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Nanami downs his whiskey and excuses himself then, your words stinging the microscopic cuts on his heart. You find yourself a little flustered after watching him walk away, unsure of where that outburst even came from. 

The eyes surrounding you look away. 

You know you’ve given everyone within your peripheral area a story to gossip about. One that would be twisted and chewed until there is no morsel of truth left in it. 

Your drink gives you enough liquid courage to socialize and face the music instead. 

You steer your way through the crowd hoping to find one person in particular, but instead you are caught among the net of cliques, old faces, and fake friends. You manage to bypass any pointed questions, passing through each conversation with a forced grin and entertaining the discussions at hand with fluffy anecdotes and petty rumours. 

When you walk away, you know full well that there will be whispers behind your back.

That’s the give and take about this world. Everyone is a vulture secretly waiting to witness the rise and fall of those around them. It’s a vicious circle, which is why nobody ever reveals their true hand in the process.  

You glance around the room, honing in on the handsome dark haired boy you’ve grown entirely too attached too except you spot someone else in between who makes your spine seize.

Your toes curl in your pointed heels. 

Your heart stutters unsteadily. 

Blushed strands, a wolfish grin, and a broad build - Sukuna always takes up far more room than he needs. 

You personally believe it’s because his ego is so massive it requires that extra space. 

You haven’t seen the man in five years, not after the messy relationship that that followed your even messier break up. 

You should have known better than to get involved with him while still so young. 

You remember that version of you. When you first met Sukuna, you were a small rabbit who had accidentally hopped its way into a lone wolf’s den. Twenty one and just embracing the glitz and glamor of the world around you. The man was charming, flirtatious and most of all dangerous. You couldn’t help but return to his lair, especially when he would take the time and effort to approach you at every function, party and gathering that you attended. When you think about your relationship with Sukuna, it fills you with shame until you can only drown in it. There is a reason why you’ve kept it a secret for so long. Even staring at him right now, the dishonor hangs on your shoulder like a weighted sin that you’re burdened to carry for the rest of your life. Every time it hits, the memories play like a movie on hyper speed. 

How often you allowed him to spill his seed all over your body. How often he brought you to tears with his tongue between your legs. How often you would moan the words “daddy” over and over again while riding him. How often you let him manipulate your heart. How often you let him convince you that you were happy.  

That twisted relationship was testament to how broken you were. 

You didn’t even know about his wife who lived in Kyoto until it was far too late. 

Your instinct tells you to turn on your heel and walk in the other direction, but you catch Suguru just up ahead in the crowd and your courage outweighs your hesitation. 

You manage to stride past Sukuna,  a darting feline scurrying towards the safety of a shadow. Your hammering heart steadies itself when the trail of his strong cologne is a safe distance behind you. You nervously clutch onto the strap of your purse, exhaling a quick breath before marching up to Suguru. 

You tap his shoulder twice. 

He spins around, eyes lifting as a smile spreads across his handsome face. 

Like a full moon on a clear night sky. 

“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.” 

“I sure hope so,” you remark, biting your bottom lip playfully as you glance at your own feet. 

Suguru chuckles, taking a step closer. “It is.” 

You glance up at him from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating with pure excitement. You think it’s silly to have such a schoolgirl infatuation over him, especially since you understood the terms that surrounding your relationship. 

You pay him for his company. 

You aren’t supposed to have a crush on man who you employ to have to sex with you. 

Yet, your gut tells you otherwise. Convinces you that the softness in which he speaks is reserved only for you. 

“Are you here with anyone?” You ask a little breathlessly, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him working. 

Suguru shakes his head. 

“Satoru invited me,” he clarifies, and it’s an answer that only makes you giddy. 

“Oh!” You squeak, “well that’s nice. It’s a really exclusive party, make sure you to take it in…” 

His eyes blatantly fall over you, cascading down your body like ink dripping over a canvas. 

Your cheeks warm. 

He’s not even hiding that he’s checking you out, and it triggers the wild desire within you. 

“Are you here alone?” He questions. 

You nod your head, knowing full well that Kento is probably in the midst of a heated conversation with his distraught lover and won’t be returning anytime soon. 

“Why don’t you join us then?” He adds, cocking his head to point at the table behind him. 

You glance over his shoulder, barely recognizing the crowd. 

A fact that seems ideal to you. 

“I’d love to,” you say with a pretty smile, all the while Suguru’s eyes continue sparkling. 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The last time you saw Suguru was a few weeks ago, where your heavy heart spilled the news of your pending engagement. 

“An arranged marriage, huh?” he whispered in the dark, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully pushed the bedsheet further down to your hips.

You inched a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bringing one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder.

Your brows furrowed with annoyance, “yeah, ever heard of the Zen’in family?”

Suguru scoffed, breaking character for only a second but it’s something that you’ve caught him doing more recently. He doesn’t hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. The front of this alter ego that he created faltering, which is probably why you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.

You sigh before continuing your explanation, “my father thinks Naoya Zen’in is a perfect match for me.”

An uneasy expression flickered across Suguru’s face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger. 

You lifted yourself up onto your elbow and rest your cheek on your palm. “What is it?”

Suguru mirrors your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline which sent goosebumps all over your body. “I’ve heard that Naoya…” Suguru stated, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows, “can be a handful to deal with…”

You thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. “And who told you that?” you murmured as the weight of Suguru’s body rolls on top of yours.

You were staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. The longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances and a reoccurring thought crossed your mind once more.

Suguru could truly be anything he wanted, but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and porn videos.

You don’t judge his choices, but you couldn't help but feel puzzled by the situation especially when you knew the trajectory of his best friend’s career path. 

One photo shoot at a mid-level fashion brand skyrocketed Satoru Gojo’s career and made him a household name. Yet, Suguru Geto was a taboo that was whispered behind closed doors. 

“I have a client who likes to gossip,” he admitted. 

That’s all you got because Suguru kept everything else about his clients confidential. You shivered when his mouth met your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sent goosebumps all over your chest, but there’s an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn’t for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.

Not a single man you’ve met in the world compared to Suguru. You’ve never known how sweet lovemaking can be until he fucked you for the time. Not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he was charming and extremely smart. You found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.

“Think we’ll still get together when you’re a missus?” he teased, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts.

The thought of you getting married only made you sick.

“Do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?” you questioned, your voice trembling when Suguru circled his lips around your hard nipple.

He hummed, drawing out a whimper when he nipped at the bud lightly, his tongue gliding over the hardened nub. 

“No,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirled when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. He rested his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. “I do, however, peg Naoya as a terrible husband.”

You sank your fingers into his locks, “it doesn’t matter who my father chooses. All these men are the same. Naoya is no worse than the rest. I’m trapped regardless…”

It was the first time you allowed yourself to think about Sukuna when in bed with Suguru. The first time you thought about the last four years and the many men who tried to weasel their way into your heart just for the sake of obtaining status. The discomfort is written plainly on your face. Suguru doesn’t know that seeking him out was your way of taking matters into your own hands, even in just the smallest way. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he responded sincerely, the kindness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.

You sniffled, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet that freely falls down your cheek. Suguru adjusted his position so he was lying by your side. He didn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. You tried hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle him.

But the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. You and Suguru both perked up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.

Your heart sank.

Another client.

Suguru reached his arm around to grab the phone, and you closed your eyes to inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can before he leaves you like he’s done many times before.

To your surprise he simply switched it off, before proceeding to wrap his arm back around you to return to his position.

“You sure you don’t need to take that?” you mumbled, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.

“I’m booked out for the rest of the evening,” he answered nonchalantly, “there’s no reason to respond.”

A tickle in your belly sent sparks all over your skin. “but your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on…”

Two fingers touched the underside of your chin, and Suguru tilted your head up so you were both face to face again. “Don’t worry about it,” he consoled, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, “this is on the house.”

What bliss it was to fall asleep in his arms that night. You recall waking up right before dawn to find him in deep slumber, his strong arm draped protectively across your body with the heat cocooning you from the rest of the world. 

Disappointment shattered you the next morning, when you were greeted by the sun and an empty bed.

You’re not sure when Suguru had snuck out, but you were puzzled to find that your cheque was still tucked away safely in your purse. 

It was the first time he walked away without any payment. 

You still vividly remember his reaction when he met you just a little over a year ago. 

“You’re young,” he blurted, his eyes widening with confusion. 

“We’re around the same age,” you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after spending weeks watching his videos. You didn’t even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. "Is this how you greet all your clients?”

Suguru raised his brow in contemplation, “my other clients don’t look like you…”

Over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.

The person you might turn into years from now if this marriage goes through.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

After that night you told yourself that you would schedule another meeting with Suguru to compensate him for his last session.

Right now, all you can think about is your heart hammering when Suguru subtly interlaces his fingers with your own, and leads you through the crowd until you both find a safe spot on the corner of the lounge chair. His group is far too engrossed in their own conversations to notice you both, drunk on the buzzing night and enjoying the many amenities of this exclusive party. 

“You look nice,” you compliment, catching Suguru’s attention while trying to ignoring his knees bumping against yours.

“As do you,” he replies, his voice smoother than velvet. “But you don’t need me to tell you that you’re gorgeous.” 

Oh but I do, you think, masking your excitement with a giggle and casual roll of your eyes. I could hear you tell me that forever. 

Suguru shyly looks down at his lap, hiding his own smile. 

It’s strange, you think, how the two of you are talking. Like this man hasn’t been inside you multiple times and made you cum until you can’t think straight. Like he doesn’t know your body in the most intimate sense.

Like you don’t fund a decent chunk of his salary. 

“Are you enjoying the party?” 

Suguru shrugs, “It’s not too bad. Though, I’m not one for big crowds if I am being completely honest...” 

“Makes sense. I don’ get a kick out of it as much as I used to.”

Suguru angles his body to face you, giving you his full attention. “Why’s that?” 

You sigh, your hands suddenly feeling empty without a drink. You sling your purse off your shoulder and place it between you both, before proceeding to fiddle with the fabric of your dress instead. 

You can lie, but you don’t know how. 

Well, you don’t know how to lie with him. 

Something about starting this contract with Suguru unveiled a level of vulnerability in you that you can’t seem to hide. The first night you both spent together you were a nervous wreck, stumbling and bumbling over words trying to find excuse after excuse as to why a woman of your age would even hire him. By your third appointment, you asked if he could be slow and gentle with you, the emotional scars of your previous relationship a stinging wound. You were desperate for tenderness, and Suguru obliged with your request. By the end you found yourself reaching your climax with tears in your eyes. 

If you were to list out more moments like this, you would simply go on and on. 

You can’t hide your truth with Suguru when it was the first thing you’ve ever shown him. 

“Because it’s a constant reminder that I can be in a room full of people I know and still feel incredibly alone…” you mumble, your gaze catching his. 

His hand finds your thighs, the warmth of his large palm burning through the fabric of your dress. 

“You’re not alone tonight, sweetheart,” he reassures. 

“You don’t have to be so nice…” you insist, suddenly self conscious over his flattery. The same sweetness he bestows upon you when you’re both locked away in a hotel room somewhere, but you didn’t sign off on any bonus transactions tonight. 

He squeezes your thigh and tilts his head. “But I like being nice to you” 

He says it so matter of factly it almost makes you faint. 

Your brows upturn with confusion. “Why?” 

His touch expands upward, grazing over the curve of your thigh, bunching the material of your dress between his fingers. He leans closer, the scent of bergamot wafting up your nose and kissing your neck. 

“Look there,” he states, and you follow the line of his gaze. 

“That woman has been married for fifteen years and her husband never got her off once. And that woman…” he continues, shifting his eyes from body to body, “has a birth mark just above her hip bone. And at the table right behind us,” 

When you turn your face you accidentally bump into the tip of his nose. 

“...are two sisters who pretend they get along well but are currently in a massive fight over their inheritance” 

Your stomach coils with jealousy. “Acquaintances of yours?” 

 Suguru leans back slightly, giving you both room to breathe. 

“Yes, clients…” he confirms, “there’s a few of them here tonight, but you’re the only one who acknowledges me. I’m just a dirty little secret to the rest.” 

Your envy dwindles into sympathy, and you can’t help but let the question slip. 

“How does that make you feel?” 

There’s a twitch in Suguru’s jaw, a hint of scarred pride. You know he has plenty of it, he just hides it well.

The man shrugs, averting his sharp gaze as he downs the rest of his drink. “It is what it is” 

Oh, but that response doesn’t nothing to help your heart, the muscle practically screaming at your brain to do so something and make him feel better. 

Mindlessly, you loop both arms around his bicep, casually resting your chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way...” 

You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, but you’re hoping it’ll mean something to him. He turns to face you, and if he inched a little closer he could probably kiss you. 

“You are an enigma to me” 

“In what way?” 

He brushes his lips past your own, making you catch your breath for a moment. His mouth trails its way up to your ear, and he whispers a sentence that sends goosebumps running all over your body. 

“In the way that how a woman like you can fit in a life like this” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The night carries on, the pulse of hedonism sending reverberations across the establishment. The crowd grows larger, the air a potion of liquor, expensive cologne, sweat and pleasure. The lights dim, inducing everyone into the trance of the ambience set around them, allowing them to indulge and consume. Your conversation with Suguru feels like minutes, but two whole hours pass with the both you concealed from the crowd. You’re almost mesmerized by him when he talks, cast under an entirely different spell that seems to effect nobody else. His touches turn more intimate the longer you speak, with Suguru securing his arm around your waist and leaning back against the chair as he keeps you tucked into his frame. 

That’s another thing you started noticing - how this man likes to hold you. 

He even did it when you were in bed together last. 

And the time before that. 

And the time before that. 

And the time before that-

If you weren’t surrounded by so many eyes you would simply curl into him, but you find yourself restraining while thinking of what excuse might work to get you both out of here because you just want to be alone with him. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Suguru offers, a wave of disappointment rolling into you as he untangles himself slowly. 

“Just some water...” 

Suguru kisses the inside of your wrist with the reassurance that he’ll be right back, but the public display only makes your cheeks bloom with endearment. 

“Got it” 

When he stands up and walks away is when you notice how the crowd around you has dispersed. Most of Suguru’s party were gone - standing either by the bar or caught in the middle of the dance floor. You can see that there were a few shifty eyes staring at you, and a lump forms in your throat when you realize that by allowing yourself to melt into Suguru it meant that you revealed your weakness to the rest of the wild. 

You take a second to readjust - fixing the hem of your dress before pulling out your pocket mirror and reapplying your lipstick. You fight off any anxious thoughts, sticking a big metaphorical middle finger to whoever was watching you with any hint of judgement. 

Your care for Suguru outweighed their own by tons. 

You just didn’t know how far you had let your guard down until a strange shadow veils over you. 

“Red still looks good on you.” 

Your heart doesn’t sink, it seizes, collapses into itself when you drop the mirror in your hand. His dark chuckle makes your spine tingle with unease. Sukuna kneels to pick up your mirror, his devilish smiling greeting you as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, huffing out another laugh when you snatch the pocket mirror from his hand and quickly throw your things back into your purse. 

“I have to go.” 

You bolt onto your feet, only to pause when his contact scorches your forearm. 

“What’s the rush? I’m just saying hi.” 

You shrug him off aggressively, eyes violent and full of fury. 

“I don’t want to say hi to you. As a matter of fact, I hope that we never have to speak again.”  

“C’mon doll, don’t be like that. It’s water under the bridge…” 

His nonchalance enrages in you ways that you can’t describe, but rather than make a scene you smoothly shove him aside before uttering “asshole” and storming off towards the bar. 

Your frantic eyes search for your solace, of the man who can suture any wound that’s in desperate need of healing. You spot him from behind, noticing that he is speaking to a friend, his shoulder leaning on the bar as he patiently waits to pick up the drinks like he promised. Refusing to look back because you know Sukuna is probably on your trail, you breathe out your apprehension to compose yourself and keep one hand securely on your purse before steadily making your way towards to Suguru. 

You hear the two of them as you draw closer,  unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation at hand. 

“Who’s the chick?” his friend asks. 

“A friend.” Suguru replies. 

“Which friend?” they press. 

“None of your business…” 

“Ah, one of your desperate clients I’m guessing?” 

You cease before making your presence known.

Stunned; your face boiling with embarrassment. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s so obvious, Suguru-” his friend scoffs, “she’s practically crawling on your lap. It’s fucking pathetic, don’t you think?” 

Pathetic?

The word splits you into half.

Is that how Suguru sees you? 

Is that how everyone else does to? 

Something clicks then, every memory and act of kindness tainted with the thought the man was simply pitying you. That the root of his good-hearted nature was merely sympathy towards a sad, broken little rich girl. 

Suguru picks up the drink, mumbling a “fuck off” before turning on his heel only to find you standing there stupefied by his friend’s demeaning commentary. Only an idiot would assume that you probably didn’t hear a thing, but Suguru is far smarter than that. Whatever trace of the mask he’s been wearing dissipates then, and you see the genuine concern on his face. He parts his lips but you’re too wounded for an explanation, and you instantly dash past both of them, excusing yourself politely before speed walking your way towards the exit. 

You can hear him call out your name, but there is no way you would let that man see you crying after what was just said. 

Of course he doesn’t like me, you self-consciously deliberate, I pay him to fuck me. 

I pay him to fucking like me. 

A sob leaves you, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand as you rush past the bouncer and dart out the front door, leaving a crowd of people staring at you with confusion. All of them hoping to make their way inside.

“Must be drunk,” one person says, while another screams at the bouncer “hey, can you let us in?! Someone just left!” 

You strut down the street, desperately trying to maintain your balance as you dab your eyes lest your tears ruin your make up. You hear someone call out your name, half hopeful that it might Suguru but when you glance over your shoulder all you see is the dreadful sight of your ex-boyfriend. 

You keep walking.  “Don’t follow me.” 

Sukuna is quick to catch up, practically jogging down the street and you curse your choice in footwear for slowing you down. 

“Then don’t keep running away.” 

You halt, the man nearly colliding into you from behind. 

“What?!” you spit out as you glare up at him. “What do you want from me?” 

Sukuna arches his brow, the smell of whiskey sticking to him. “The fuck got you so worked up?” 

You wipe away any leftover tears, your indignation towards this man overriding all other emotions. 

“None of your fucking business…” 

Sukuna reaches for your elbow, “Let’s not be testy. My car is in front of the bar. Let me take you home.” 

You already caught that eye sore of a ridiculously expensive sports car when you stepped out of club. “I’d rather walk home barefoot on a bed of hot coals then go anywhere with you.” 

“Don’t be like that, kitten…”

“Don’t,” you snapped, “call me that.” 

“You know I still nothing but love for you, right?” He slurs mildly, “Let me take you back to my place and we can talk-”  

His thumb grazes your elbow gently. Once upon a time you actually believed that his affection was real, but you’re older and wiser to know the truth now. “You miss my pussy,” you crudely admonish, “you don’t give a fuck about me.” 

He pinches your elbow with mild irritation. “Why don’t you tuck those claws back. I’m trying to have a fucking conversation.” 

“If a conversation is what you want, then speak to your fucking wife-” you hiss, striking a cord that makes Sukuna furrow his brows which brings you an odd sense of satisfaction. 

His face falls. 

You huff with approval. 

“What?” your mock, “cat got your tongue?” 

“Is everything alright?” 

You and Sukuna both halt, your heads twisting to face whoever spoke with Sukuna letting go of you faster than you can even blink. You only catch a tiny glimpse of his fear, the terror that somebody caught him in the act. 

Thankfully, it was only Suguru. 

Your body hums with relief. 

One hand is in his pocket, the other keeping a helmet tucked under his wing. His stance is relaxed but his irises are piercing daggers sinking into Sukuna’s skull.

“Everything’s fine-” Sukuna insists. 

“Suguru,” you call out at the same time, instantly going to him and finding your place by his side.

The word pathetic hammers in the back of your mind but you need deal with one problem at a time, and right now you don’t care about looking desperate if it means escaping the shackles of Ryomen Sukuna. 

Suguru’s eyes don’t leave your ex-lover, but he inches closer towards you to assert his ground. 

Sukuna frowns, the expression on his face all too familiar. 

You clutch Suguru’s sleeve, “Nothing to fret over. Do you mind taking me home?” 

He turns to face you, a mixture of worry with a flare of anger on that handsome face.  

“Yeah, I’ll take you home.” 

“Tsk,” Sukuna grumbles with frustration, “Don’t cheapen yourself by fucking off with some whore…” 

A static shock trickles each point of the triangle where you all stand. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your attention moving to Suguru whose entire face darkens with a fury that you’ve never seen before. He steps forward, his helmet dropping to his hand like he’s ready to wield it as a weapon, and the target is the spot on Sukuna’s skull that he’s been carefully observing. Your vision goes white imagining the outcome of this blow out, and you can practically hear the crack of the impact if Suguru follows through. 

Despite how much he deserved it, you know just how powerful Sukuna is. 

He would ruin Suguru without any remorse. 

“Suguru,” you beg, stepping forward and clutching onto his shirt as you reel him away from the man before you. 

His nostrils flare, the intoxicating poison of wrath swirling in his irises which quickly diffuses upon finding you. 

“Take me home?” You softly repeat, earnest and sincere, all the while erasing Sukuna from your presence entirely. 

It only takes a few seconds for Suguru to register your request, but he complies by reaching for your hand and knotting his fingers between your own. He grips it protectively, eyes looking straight ahead as he leads you down the street and far away from the chaos behind you. 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The patter of your feet colliding onto the concrete surface echoes around you. A part of you is embarrassed, the other ashamed, a third grateful while a fourth shivers anxiously. You’re thankful that Suguru is at least allowing the silence to linger because it’s giving you a chance to settle from the roller coaster of emotions you just experienced. You try not to think about the pressure of his grip, or how the length of his fingers are wrapped securely around yours and instead piece together some semblance of an explanation worthy for him to listen to. 

You eventually decide that you’ll just grab a cab back to your place. That you’ll thank Suguru for playing the role of rescuer, and hand off the cheque that you’ve been holding onto. You won’t be a burden, bother him any longer or a do anything else to force his empathy. 

Suguru pauses in front of a jet black motorbike. The color itself blending into the darkness around you. You clear your throat ready to make your declaration, but you’re silenced when you feel the weight of his helmet press against your palms. 

“Wear this,” he commands. “I’ll take you to my place.” 

Your mouth goes slack, your practiced words shrinking to the back of your throat. 

His place. 

“Your place?” You find yourself whispering your thoughts out loud. 

Suguru reaches for the handle of his bike, tapping his index finger against it, his back facing you. “If you want.” 

He hops on before searching you for an answer. The look animates you back to reality and you nod your head before swiftly putting on the helmet. You find your place behind him, taking a second longer to adjust in your dress. You knot your arms around his waist, your eyes noting his exposed head. 

“You don’t have a helmet.” You point out. 

“I don’t live that far,” he answers back, “besides, I didn’t think I’d be traveling with precious cargo.” 

He taps his palm over your clasped hands. “Hold tight for me, alright?” 

You nod your head, covering your face with the shield visor before resting your cheek against his back. 

Suguru takes off. 

The wind whips against your bare arms, the pressure sweeping between your legs as Suguru swerves between each lane. The city blurs into vivid colors, only resurfacing when you come to an immediate halt at the traffic light. The adrenaline courses through your veins, the exhilarating sensation a thrill that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately, the journey was short lived and within twenty minutes you find yourself coming to a halt in an underground parking lot. 

Suguru parks the bike, hopping off before reaching his hand out to assist you. 

Your legs felt like jelly when it hits the surface, and you tumble on your own footing as Suguru reaches his other hand out to steady you by holding your waist. 

“You okay? Was I going to fast?” 

You take off the helmet, attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. 

“No, no” you answer a little breathless, “that…that was actually kind of fun…” 

“First time?”

You nod your head. 

Suguru hums. 

He takes the helmet away from you and directs you straight to the entrance of his apartment building. He pulls out an electronic key, and presses it against the elevator door. The elevator pings, the panels sliding open as you both step inside. Suguru clicks the button to his floor and you both stand on opposite sides watching the numbers go up.

Suguru lived in a newer development, you could tell when you walked through the hallway as he stands in front of his apartment door, and uses the same key to grant you both entrance. 

As you enter the hallway, you’re greeted by a wall with mounted iron hooks. There’s five to be exact, each one holding a different helmet with one space empty. Suguru fits the helmet back onto the vacant spot, before glancing over his shoulder and finding you still by the door struggling to take off your heels. 

He returns and kneels before you. His hands carefully moving your fingers away. 

“Let me help with that” 

“You don’t have to-” but you’re interrupted with him patting his thigh in gesture. 

You bite your bottom lip and place one foot against him, careful not to dig your heel into him. 

He delicately unravels the straps around your ankle and slips of the heel with a brush to the back of your calf, making the muscle twitch. 

“Other foot,” he instructs, then repeats. 

After placing your shoes neatly by the door, he stands up and reaches for your hand once more. “This way” 

You take it warmly, and follow him while trying your best not to acknowledge the noticeable height difference with you two standing side by side.

You never paid much attention to it before, you didn't have too really considering you both spent most of your time together in parallel positions. 

Suguru leads you into the living room, and a small gasp escapes you when you are met with floor to ceiling windows. The horizon is of the city skyline, but it’s half blocked by a decent size balcony which is covered in greenery. The scene contrasts the inside of Suguru’s apartment, which is more minimal. To your right is a small dining nook, the light above an accent piece that added some detail to the decor. To your left is a small furniture set, the sage green fabric making you avert your gaze with shame because your recognized that very same couch in most of Suguru’s videos. 

You find yourself quickly staring at your feet. 

“Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea?” 

“Tea would be great,” you answer back, returning to look directly at him from underneath your lashes. “Do you have anything herbal?” 

“Mhmm.” 

You follow him into the kitchen and realize that the man keeps his place meticulously clean. The back counter is what catches your attention the most. Suguru has a full serviced at home barista station set up for his own convenience. You pick out the coffee grinder, espresso machine, assortment of tea pots, jars of fresh leaves and coffee bags all neatly organized. 

Suguru pulls out one jar with a hand written label that reads "lemon balm and chamomile". 

You slip off your purse and place it on the counter behind him. “Did you make all these yourself?” 

“My parents used to run a tea shop in Hokkaido,” he answers back. 

“A tea shop?” You squeak, a little too excited from the morsel of information about his personal life that he just bestowed. “That must have been lovely…” 

“It was,” he answers, his voice growing small. 

You watch him fill the kettle with water, before placing it on the electric stove to warm up. He opens the jar, closing the gap of space between you both and lifts it to your nose. 

“Take a deep breath in,”

You oblige, and inhale. 

“Oh my,” you sigh out loud, your fingers subconsciously clasping over his own as your eyes flutter from the aroma of citrus, ginger, flora and subtle spice. It calms every firing nerve in your body. “That smells wonderful” 

When you open them again, you see that Suguru is looking at you thoughtfully. 

“It tastes good too,” he says proudly, and your heart glows at the reaction. “I was a terrible night owl as a kid. Still am, I guess. My mom used to make this to help me go to sleep…” 

“That’s really sweet,” you admit, wondering how lovely it must be to be looked after with such care. 

He slips away again, taking a spoon and putting a generous amount of the blend into a ceramic tea pot. You hear the tea bubble lightly, but your head spins as Suguru cages you in place while you both wait for it to reach the right temperature. Your back is against the counter, his arms by your side. 

“That guy you were talking to. Who was that?” He questions, cutting right to the chase. 

“Nobody important,” you confess, “he’s an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.” 

“I’m sorry about what he said to you. What he called you…”  

Suguru’s fingers dig into the counter, making the muscles in his arms flex with irritation. 

“Don’t apologize for him. Don’t apologize for any of them.” He firmly maintains. “Their words are empty to me...” 

“You almost bashed his head in,” you point out, a tiny smile easing the tension binding around the man before you. 

“I almost bashed his head because of the way he spoke to you-” 

Your eyes widen. 

Was he being protective? You think, but shake your head when you think of what kind of pitiful state you must have been that would cause Suguru to react in such a way. 

Pathetic. 

Your shoulders dwindle slightly and you shake it off to gather yourself once more. 

“He was a terrible mistake. I was young, and stupid. I thought I knew better when I really had no fucking clue…” 

You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until two fingers press underneath your jaw.

His thumb taps your chin in a featherlight touch. “Is it over? Whatever it was?” 

“Of course,” you answer, the truth acrid on your tongue. “I’m to marry Naoya Zen’in, remember?”

Suguru frowns. “He’s no better. I told you that myself.” 

You circle your hand around his wrist. “I’ll take anyone over Sukuna. Even if that person is Naoya…” 

“Why can’t you just choose?” 

You press your lips together and sigh. “Because it’s a transaction. I’m a token in my father’s universe. If he weds me off to the Zen’in’s then it’s profitable. Good for business…” 

“I’m sure if you speak with him, he’ll understand-” 

“Don’t be so naive,” you answer as you return to meet his gaze. “My father doesn’t love me. He just owns me. I spent most of my adolescence alone while he was busy working or galavanting off with his mistress.  I think he assumed that if he kept shoving money my way, I wouldn’t notice his absence…” 

The kettle sings, making you both jump in place as the water bubbles aggressively and a small spiral of steam releases from the lip. Suguru returns to making your beverage. Picking up the kettle and pouring the hot water into the pot. He places it on a tray, along with a beautiful cup. 

“The tea needs a couple of minutes to steep. In the meanwhile, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He announces, “You want some spare clothes?” 

You look down at your designer frock, the material snug on your body. 

“Yeah, I’d like that” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Suguru’s white shirt falls to your mid thigh, the material a little see through and revealing the bra you had on underneath. You eye the pair of worn boxers he handed to you to wear as shorts, but slyly tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before leaving it behind and walking out with your bare legs on display. 

You’re not quite sure what the plan is here, but you don't see yourself leaving anytime soon.

You head back towards the kitchen where you pick up your purse, your dress folded between your hands carefully. Suguru is opening the door to the balcony, having changed into a cut sleeve shirt that exposes his arms and a hint of his ribs, as well as a pair of loose shorts. When he hears you enter, his attention instantly falls to your plush thighs, a hint of crimson blushing his cheek. 

“Where can I keep my stuff?” You ask innocently, pretending to ignore his reaction. 

“Anywhere is fine,” he answers back, his voice thick. 

He tells you that he’ll wait for you outside, and in the meantime you put down your stuff onto the coffee table in front of his sofa.

You unzip your purse, Suguru’s cheque staring you at you with wide, scolding eyes. 

Pathetic. 

You furrow your brows at the voice inside your head, and swipe the payment before folding it and tucking it securely against your hip underneath the waistband of your underwear. 

You head outside, sliding the window close behind you. 

Suguru is sitting on a deck chair, the two of you camouflaged by the array of his overgrown plants. He pours your cup of tea, the aroma twirling between the current of the wind as he offers it your way. You pick it up, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. A heavy sigh escapes you, and you remain standing leaning back against the cool glass surface as you stare out into the distance. 

“Like it?” Suguru asks, and you only notice then that he has also brought out a second cup for himself and is pouring his own drink. 

“It’s divine,” you respond. 

“I’m glad” 

The two of you sit in silence once more, mindlessly sipping your tea while contemplating the other person. You’re both at a clear standstill, carefully tiptoeing over the boundary that has so been strictly set in place. 

A reminder of that is the folded cheque digging into your skin. 

“How did you find out about contacting me?” Suguru randomly wonders. 

You look towards him and he shrugs before adding on, “I never asked. I find myself curious.” 

You thrum your nails against the glass cup, taking another sip of your tea before replying, “I saw you at a party with Satoru. I was with a group of friends, and one of them noticed me recognizing you. She asked if I was…familiar with your work. And when I told her I was she informed me that you both were…intimate.” 

“Was it Mei?” 

Your face falls at the blatant disregard of confidentiality. 

“How-How did you know?” 

Suguru huffs, and sips his tea. 

“She’s the only other client I had close to our age. Wasn’t hard to make the connection…” 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Go for it,” he replies. 

“I’ve always been curious as to how you wound up doing what you do,” you bite your bottom lip nervously, your hands trembling slightly holding your glass and you hope that Suguru wouldn’t notice your sudden unease. 

“Ah,” he acknowledges, his free hand moving to rub the back of his neck and you can’t help but sneak a peak at his abdomen from the side. “Well, I told you how I wound up making the videos. For a long time I just did solo work, but I knew I could make more money if I had on-screen partners to film with. I had a few good connections with some actresses and hired a friend to make a video with me…” 

You knew exactly which one he was talking about. 

The actress in question was well known, and the video was an amateur clip that was filmed on the very same couch that you walked passed earlier. 

You clench your thighs together. 

You don’t even want to admit how many times you came to that particular video. 

“I didn’t know it would blow up in the way that it did. Shoko and I made a killing off it. We both saw the potential and we wound up doing six full episodes - trying out different techniques, roleplaying in a few…” 

“But you stopped posting after that…” 

Suguru pauses. “How would you know that?” 

You swallow a big gulp of tea. 

“I might have been a big fan of your work before we met.” 

“Really?” He answers with a slight tilt of his head, clearly very amused. 

“I wouldn’t have reached out to just anyone, you know. But I was really interested in...your work, and when I learned about your little side gig. I couldn’t resist…” 

“Well, color me flattered, sweetheart.” 

You swirl the last bits of tea in your cup. 

“So, why did you stop posting?” 

“I kept the videos up. They’re good and I still make revenue with every ad or view. Satoru’s career was picking up around that time, and he had just gotten clean. He needed somebody to hold him accountable so I started tagging along at his events. I didn’t realize how many people would recognizeme. My first client wasn’t even "a client", he gestures with air quotes, "she was just some woman I met and slept with. I woke up the next morning to an empty hotel room. All that she left behind was an envelope of cash…” 

He pauses. 

“I didn’t know what to feel. A part of me was insulted but another part had never seen that much money handed over so easily. The videos were great but what I earned in a day, is what I got in just a few hours. I was in my mid-twenties, just left the brink of making ends meet and desperate for security. I deposited the cash and kept going. Somehow it snowballed into…” he gestures his arms out, “this.” 

He pours himself another cup of tea. “At first I was a little reckless. Took on too many clients it damn near gave me a health scare. So, I started spacing them out. Keeping to a set number a month and maintaining a high price. I didn’t think that so many people would actually pay for my services, but they do...and I'm comfortable.” 

“Does it ever overwhelm you?” 

“Not anymore. Keeping my partners to a minimum helps. I’m safe and get tested regularly, as I mentioned when we first met,” He lifts the teapot your direction to offer you a second cup, and you accept it by approaching him and allowing him to fill your glass. 

“The thing is I went from never knowing when I was going to eat to having three meals a day. I don’t think I’d change that for the world…” 

“What about your family? Your friends?” You find yourself mindlessly asking. "How do they feel about this?"

“Satoru and Shoko are the only ones who know. Everyone else thinks it’s porn that funds my life. As for my family,” Suguru stops, his voice scratchy as he quickly clears his throat. “Well, they don’t have to worry about it. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. It's just been me ever since”  

The tea burns your lip  and your body trembles at the statement. 

“I’m so sorry…” 

He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. 

There’s a heaviness in the air, and despite how hard he’s trying to hide it you can see how the memory tears him apart. 

“My mom passed away giving birth to me,” you find yourself disclosing to even the scale, “I think that’s probably why my father resents me so much. He never got a son, and lost his wife in the process” 

“I’m sorry to hear that too…” 

You mirror his shrug. “It’s weird. I find myself curious about her - but there’s a detachment when I look at her. Sometimes I think about how different my life might be if she was still around. Or, if she was just like my father and everything would still be the same…” 

“Well, since we are speaking of hypotheticals,” Suguru moves on, shifting the topic as he angles his body more in your direction. “If you had the freedom to whatever you wanted, what would you do?” 

“Me?” You gasp, shocked by his pointed question. 

He smiles an easy smile, “I don’t see anybody else around.” 

You hum thoughtfully. “This might take a minute…” 

He places his cup of tea on the tray by his side and then pats his free hand on his thigh. 

“C’mere and think.” 

Your heart flies up your throat, pulsing just at the base. “You want me to sit on your lap?” 

Suguru nods his head. 

You gulp down the vessel, returning it back to its place. You glide your way towards him, placing the tea cup just next to his own, before settling down onto his lap. 

Suguru wraps his arm around your waist, securing you close into his frame. 

“Do you hold your other clients like this?” 

He shakes his head no. 

“So, you like holding me…” you bluntly point out, “why’s that?” 

Suguru’s face is directly in front of yours, so beautiful you can almost faint right here in his arms. He fingers dig into your waist, his other arm curving over your thigh and gently drawing circles on your hip. 

“Because you fit nicely against me” 

A swarm of butterflies take flight, making you feel lighter than air. You swear he might kiss you then but instead he returns to his question. “So, tell me what would you do?” 

The answer comes to you far easier than you think. From the moment you saw him tonight, you know the truth in the depths of your heart. “I’d like to run away with you,” you confess before stuttering out, “or-or at least somebody like you. Someone who is kind and sweet and thoughtful...”

Suguru leans back against the chair, lifting up one leg and adjusting your positions. He’s careful not to kick the tray with the tea. 

“And where would we go?” 

You sling your arms around his neck, “anywhere - anywhere but here.” 

Suguru slides his palm over the slop of your rear, slipping it underneath the fabric of his shirt and tracing a line over the dimples on your lower back.

“What would we do?” 

“We could lay outside just like this and watch the stars.” 

He hums, “we don’t get any stars out here in the city...”

“No, we don’t.” 

“What else would we do?” 

His other hand starts to unbutton the front of your shirt, revealing the details of the lace underneath. He cups your right breast, his lips shifting to find your neck. 

“We’d do this too,” you sing merrily. 

“Look at stars and fuck our brains out?” He teases, his teeth nipping at your skin. “Sounds like a dream to me…”

He gropes the fat of your breast, unknotting every single secret. “what else?” 

“We’ll sleep all day, and kiss until we’re bored of one another…” 

The hand on your breast moves to circle your neck, Suguru’s thumb massaging the column. 

“I’d never grow bored kissing you-” 

Your body renders against his touch. “Suguru,” you moan, your lips seeking his own. 

Before you can even meet for the kiss, he mumbles your name and follows up with the claim: “you should run away with me.” 

You giggle, still living in the proposed fantasy. “I’m trying to…” 

“I’m being serious” 

The tone of his voice is the reason why you stop to kiss him, pulling away to face the man before you. 

There's no denying the truth on his face - he is actually quite serious about the declaration. 

You hear the dreaded word once more: pathetic. Pathetic because this man is an expert at fulfilling fantasies, is a professional when it comes to healing the hearts of the lonely.

Pulling yourself out of this delusional imagination, you push off him before standing up straight. 

“That’s not funny, Suguru” 

“Who says I’m being funny?” He responds sincerely. 

“What is this? What are we doing? What am I doing? You can’t just-” you lament, pressing your forehead to hand in disbelief as you enter the confines of his apartment, taking a second to breathe. “You can’t just say things like that-” 

He calls out your name again, but the kraken has already been released. 

He follows, tracking into his abode right behind you, all the while watching you stand in the middle of his living room with your quivering hands reaching for the waistband of your underwear.  

“This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have-I shouldn’t have gone through with all of this,” you yank out the cheque, showing it to him. “You don’t have to take pity on me. I know I’m just another desperate, pathetic client, alright? I promise you don't have to keep putting up with me and my drama after this. And you sure as hell don't have to keep giving me these mixed messages which only confuse me. I can’t have things getting complicated right before this engagement is about to happen. So, here. Take this cheque and let’s just forget everything else about tonight.” 

Suguru stands there, pensive. His eyes look to the folded paper in your hand, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Instead of reaching for the paper, he simply walks past you, making you spin on your heel as you follow his movements with sheer bewilderment. 

He heads towards the shelf behind you and pulls out a tiny box. He removes something from it, before walking back and facing you once more. 

“Shit got complicated about eight cheques ago, sweetheart,” he negates, holding the thin stack papers between his two fingers as he brings it to your face. His eyes fall to to the crumpled one you are currently holding, “Well, counting the one in your hand, I’d say nine...” 

You can’t believe it.

You pick up the wad and sift through each paper; each cheque one of yours, the date issued a reflection of your last nine meetings with Suguru. 

None of them cashed in. 

“Why do you still have these?” 

Two hands find your waist, your forearms fall into Suguru’s chest as you stare mindlessly at the cheques fanned out between your fingers. 

“I didn’t have it on my conscious to deposit them once I realized my feelings for you. I'm sorry about what you heard earlier, but what Mahito said doesn't apply to you at all,” he responds. “You stopped being a client to me for quite some time...” 

You look up at him. 

His touch tightens around your waist. “You can’t marry Naoya. Or, you shouldn’t. But if you do, I don’t want us to stop seeing one another. We can work something out…”

“Suguru,” you pine, dropping the papers in your hand, each one twirling onto the ground, thousands at your feet. 

His lips catch yours in a subtle peck, all before circling over your bottom lip and sucking on the plush base. He slides his tongue between your lips, feeling yourcrumple into him as the paper crinkles beneath your feet. You moan feeling the sensation of his tongue slide across yours - he tastes like running across a field of chamomile flowers, like you’re holding a basket of fresh, ripe lemons. 

Like you're savoring the most beautiful sunrise. 

His hands return to finish unbuttoning your shirt, shrugging the material off your shoulders and exposing your expensive lingerie set. He grips your hips, your ass - his touch hungry before pressing his pelvis closer to your frame so you can feel his aching member beneath his shorts. 

You squeak into another kiss when he swiftly picks you up from the back of your thighs and carries you across the living room. 

He places you onto his sofa like you’re made of porcelain, keeping you on the edge as he kneels to the ground, his knees sinking into the rug. Two hands find your inner thighs which he pushes apart to reveal the pretty triangle fabric covering your sweet cunt. He kisses your clit over the material. Once, twice, three times…until you’re sighing into the pillow behind you. His tongue drags up, pressing your clothing against your sex, one hand drawing upward to find yours which he holds lovingly. His index and middle finger hook underneath your underwear, and he tugs it aside to reveal your slick coated pussy. 

He kisses your clit again, leaving a path down your damp lips which only makes you moan angelically. 

“This is why I’d never get bored kissing you,” he coos, “You sound like heaven whenever I do...”

Your only response is a vowel, your hand holding onto Suguru’s for dear life as he returns to eat out with such devotion it almost brings tears to your eyes. You pant softly, his wet tongue making you weep between your legs and he gathers your essence and swallows it to parch his craving. You whine feeling the snap of your underwear pinch into your skin when Suguru lets go of the material to mold his palm over the slope of your pelvis. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his tongue sinking between your wet folds, lips suckling on the petals of your cunt. 

Your hips arch off the sofa, desperate for friction, but Suguru pins you firmly back down. 

“Easy, easy…” he appeases, “don’t cum just yet. Hold off f’me, just for a little bit…” 

He’s never asked because there was never a reason to. For the most part, he was always there to service you. Allowed you to use his body to get you off as many times as you so desired. 

Your voice breaks, “okay,” you answer, drawing out a long exhale when he dives back in. 

The hand on your pelvis climbs up the steps of your ribs, reaching for band of your bra right at the middle. He curls his finger over the boning, and tugs the material allowing your breasts to spill free. He finds the bud of your nipple and tweaks it between his finger, pinching and pulling the aching nub until your writhing beneath him. 

He slurps and sucks, while you moan and whimper, forcing yourself to hold off for as much as your can but you find that it’s far harder to do when your lower belly quakes as it sits on the brink of release. 

“Suguru, Suguru…” you beg, reaching your free hand to your breast and clenching over his fingers. “Suguru, I can’t-m’gonna cum if you don’t stop…” 

He groans against your cunt, pulling away from your pulsing core and letting go of your hand to wipe the dampness off his chin. 

He licks his lips, drunk off lust and of how you taste. 

He keeps his body upright, drags your legs to secure them around his waist as he straightens your back. His hands unhook your bra from behind, the scent of you strong on his lips as he leans up for a kiss. Your hands fall to his shoulders, your belly fluttering as your sex begs for more stimulation. 

Suguru loosens the bra, allowing it to fall to your elbows before kneading your breasts - his thumb swipes back and forth over your nipples. He devours your cry, wolfs down every panting breath as he moans into the kiss. Your hands slip underneath his shirt, taking in the lines of strong abdomen.

“Take if off,” you plead between breaths, “Take it off, please…” 

Suguru listens, breaking apart from the kiss to toss his shirt to the side while you slip off your bra. Your lover’s hand finds your waist, his fingers pinching into the soft flesh. He leans forward to kiss the side of your neck, making a path down the curve and across the field of your décolletage. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your breast, his lips snagging your nipple as his tongue rolls over the bud.

Your fingers curl around the back of his head, loosening his bun as you untie the knot. His hair falls like waterfall, the strands tickling your bare skin. Suguru’s hand slips between your legs, his middle and forefinger meeting your clit. You hiss at the contact, sinking your teeth between your bottom lip when Suguru sucks on your breast while simultaneously drawing circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs. 

Your breath grows heavier, your hips bucking into him from the sensation of his touch. 

“Feels good,” you mumble, “feels so good with you…”   

He shivers, relieving your breast as his lips search for your own. 

He adds more pressure between your legs, increasing the speed while your tongues dance. When your thighs noticeably quiver he slows down, pinching your clit between his fingers as he softly pecks your cheek. 

“The condoms are in my room…” 

Your sharp nails scratch the back of his neck lightly, “I have one in my purse.” 

Suguru nods feverishly, reaching back to the coffee table and rummaging through your purse. He picks out the shiny wrapper, and stands up to take off his shorts. 

“Wait, can I?” You request, gazing up at him with glittering eyes. 

Suguru swallows hard, and nods his head. 

Your eyes dilate rolling his shorts down, focusing on the tent in the fabric and watching his cock spring free and lightly smack his lower belly. Suguru brings the condom to his lips and rips it open with his teeth, but his eyes flutter when your perfectly manicured hands glide up the length of his shaft. 

You trace the prominent vein, your thumb swiping over the pre-cum beading over  the angry tip. You lick your lips, leaning closer to kiss the base and listening to Suguru sigh. 

You’ve only given him a blow job once before, and that was because you asked if you could. Suguru sets no expectations for himself when it comes to work, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t fantasized about giving him head countless times. 

You wrap your fingers around his length and stroke mildly, your lips fanning over  his cock before reaching the tip. 

“Sweetheart, don’t-” Suguru murmurs in an attempt to stop you, but you’re already enclosing your lips around the head and pressing your tongue over the slit. 

His head falls back as you suck, a curse leaving him. 

You move slowly at first, dragging your tongue back and forth as you stroke the base. Sukuna was far rougher with you when you went down on him, but Suguru is allowing you to take him at your own pace. Inch by inch, until you were bobbing your head back and forth, strings of saliva webbing off his cock and sticking your lips. 

He thrusts once, not rough enough to hurt but the jerk catches you by surprise. 

You carefully release him, mindlessly wiping your bottom lip and the sight makes his cock twitch. 

Suguru pulls the condom out, and rolls it over his shaft. 

He settles onto the empty seta by your side, and you crawl over the expanse of his gorgeous, chiseled body to kiss him once again. 

His circles his fingers around his cock, his other hand guiding your hip as he aligns the tip to your entrance. Your nail nicks his pec when he pushes against the hole, your mouth circling over his own as you lower down his shaft. 

He fills you up so, so good. Makes your body vibrate with unshakeable desire. 

He groans until he bottoms out , the hand on your hip dipping down from your pubis to your lower belly like he’s trying to outline how deep he actually is before returning it back in place and securing his other hand on the opposite hip. 

Your breasts flatten against his chest, your hands holding on to his strong shoulders for support as you roll our hips.

Suguru works in tandem with your rhythm to fuck you passionately. 

His lips find yours once again for a final kiss, before the two of you get caught up in the moment when he swiftly picks up the pace. 

His hips arch violently, while yours sink - your bodies moving silk. 

“Unghh, oh god, yes-yes-yes~” you moan. 

Suguru’s grip almost feels painful, you know for a fact that he’ll be marking your hips with a few bruises. “Gonna cum-” he rasps, “s-shit, I’m fucking close-fucking close-” 

Your pussy tightens, practically holds his dick in a death grip that makes release a broken moan. His cock contracts upon his release, the sensation bringing you to the edge of yours as the muscles in your lower belly and inner thighs spasm around him. You leave crescents on his skin, your bodies shaking as you both take a second to breathe coming down from your climax. 

You collapse into him, his arms circling behind you, with his racing heart pulsing into your own. He moves so you’re laying side by side, your body sandwiched between him and the couch since he takes up most of the room. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling him grow soft inside you.

Your stuttering breath finally finds a resting poin when he brings your hand and holds it against his heart. 

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper with a kiss to his neck. 

“Whatever you decide, we’ll figure out.” Suguru answers sincerely. 

“I can’t marry Naoya,” you admit out loud, shocked for actually saying it for the very first time. “And I can't share you with anyone else - it already kills me having to do so.” 

Suguru looks down at you, a reassuring smile resting on his lips. “There won’t be anyone else.” 

“I can't just...leave. I can't just drop everything and walking away. It isn’t going to be easy-” you add on, “It’ll take me some time.” 

“I can wait” 

“It might get messy…” 

“When is it ever not?” 

“But we’ve never been in a relationship-” you insist, logic breaking through the barrier of your happiness. “How do we know if this will even work out properly? What if this thing between us fades?” 

“I guess we’re both taking a gamble here…” 

You both stare into the other’s eyes. 

“Do you think it’s worth the risk?” You ask. 

Suguru’s face softens but he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 

“I think it’s worth a try.” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO YEARS LATER

“You running out on Naoya on your wedding night is still the hot topic.” Kento explains over the phone, “People kept bringing it up, and for whatever reason they just can't seem to get over it.” 

The guilt in your stomach twists into a very small knot, over time the size of it has shrunk to a point where you not longer carry any remorse regarding your scheming behavior. 

You had a plan, and the plan worked. 

"Let's not forget who was there to help..." you contend, disregarding the negativity surrounding your decision.

After you and Suguru spoke, you decided to carry on the facade, agreeing to the engagement and soon after the wedding with Naoya Zen'in. All the while you and Suguru were busy planning your way to cut and run. He cashed in your unsigned checks, and you pilfered a decent amount of the wedding budget which you kept into a seperate savings account.

You played the role as obedient daughter well, and no one was the wiser. 

“Besides, I maintain that it's still the best decision I ever made,” you reply, stepping out of your room and into the kitchen where you are greeted by the sound of clinking dishes.  

Your eyes shift to Suguru - his hair far longer now, flowing beautifully down his back, the front layers tied into a small bun. You smell dinner in the air, and your stomach grumbles with anticipation. 

Nanami doesn't reply, but you can hear that he's distracted from the television in the background. 

“What are you watching?” you ask your friend. 

The man simply sighs. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing with that reaction. Is it Satoru’s new drama show?” 

At the mention of his best friend you notice your lover glance over his shoulder, quietly tilting his head to direct you towards him. You smile his way, your feet pattering against the hardwood floor as you move closer to him. He bundles one arm around your shoulder, keeping you close while continuing to sauté the vegetables in the pan. 

He kisses the top of your head. 

“It’s all the rage,” you add on to your phone call, “Suguru and I plan on watching the next episode tonight.” 

Kento remains quiet. 

You release yourself from Suguru’s grasp, and instead hop onto the kitchen counter right next to him.

He reduces the heat and picks up the lid before covering the pan. 

“I’m guessing you two haven’t-” 

“No,” Kento curtly replies. “Not since that night…” 

“I’m sorry” 

“Don’t be,” he responds with frustration. “I screwed it up” 

“You know I could just ask Sugu too reach out-” 

“ Don’t,” Kento sighs regrettably. “It doesn’t matter. I heard he’s moved on” 

You quirk your brow, your eyes shifting to Suguru who was back to chopping some fresh herbs. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s for the best I guess,” Kento reassures. “He should be happy with whoever-the-fuck he chooses.” 

“You deserve happiness too, Kento.” 

“You can be happy for the both of us,” he replies, gulping down a drink. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m meeting my lawyer for dinner.” 

“When are you going to visit us next?” 

“Probably around November, December. I just need a few things to ease up on my end-” 

You bite your bottom lip, “I look forward to it.” 

“Take care, love” 

“You too, Ken.” 

You hang up the phone and lean your head against the cupboard as you watch Suguru rinse his hand, a trail of crimson spiraling down the faucet.  

“I cut my finger” 

You pick up a clean towel by your side, and gesture him towards you. 

Suguru extends his thumb out, and you curl the fabric over to keep pressure on the small cut. 

“You ought to be careful” 

“Your legs are a distraction,” 

You stare up at him playfully, and he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips. 

“How’s Nanami?” 

Your lover is indebted to your friend. If it wasn’t for Nanami, the two of you wouldn’t have been able to set up this comfortably. He’s the one who found you the humble two-story abode in Hokkaido, and was also the person who set up your personal bank accounts while ensuring that you would both have a safe and quick getaway on the night of your almost-wedding. 

“Fine, I think-” you reply, before removing the towel to check the damage. Thankfully, it wasn't anything serious. A little deeper than a paper cut.“Licking his wounds over a broken heart, but fine.” 

Suguru reaches for the drawer next to you, and pulls out the emergency band aids. You reach for the box in his hand, taking out one and removing the plaster from the back. You secure it around his cut, and Suguru holds your fingers between his. 

He arches down to kiss your brow. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

“You’re welcome, handsome” 

“Dinner will be ready in a few if you want to set the table” 

You nod your head in acknowledgement, and drop down onto the ground before proceeding with your task.

You set the place mats down, a bowl for the soup and another for the rice and cooked vegetables. Your finger traces the rim of the one in front of your seat, a tiny chip from when you accidentally dropped it in the sink while cleaning it a few weeks ago. 

Fragments of these blemishes are all around you - making you almost forget that you once lived in a perfect, curated bubble. But you would take these flaws over everything else. These markings may be worn, but they are a reminder of the home you've been building.

A home that is entirely yours. 

“Baby, you want a drink?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. 

“Melon soda, please” you reply, placing the bowl down. 

“We’re out, I’ve got to pick some up tomorrow.” 

“What are you having?” 

“A beer,” he chuckles, and it sends a tremor of joy between the valves of your heart. 

“I’ll share yours” 

Suguru pulls out the bottle, cracking the cap off as he pops it using the side of the kitchen counter to do so. 

You two meet each other halfway in the space that you've been nesting in. Suguru’s eyes never leave yours when he takes the first sip, and once done he passes the chilled bottle towards you.

“Am I ever going to have you back in the kitchen helping me with dinner?” 

You shake your head no, and bite at the lip of the bottle before taking a sip. “I thought we agreed I was a hazard after the raw chicken fiasco and the almost-fire debacle…” 

He laughs, “no, you agreed. I said it wasn’t a big deal” 

“You just said that because you love me,” you respond, pressing the bottle into his chest as he takes it from your hand. 

“That goes without saying…” he answers, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame. 

You lift yourself up on your toes, and kiss his nose. 

“Do you think it’s worth the risk of me attempting to cook for you again?” You whisper against his lips. 

Suguru smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as he leans forward to seal his reply with a  kiss. 

“I think it’s worth the try” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

tag list: @rottiens @an-ever-angry-bi @mononijikayu @brownskinnedgirll

[yerimbrit]

let you break my heart again : m. danielle

synopsis: was it wrong of her to miss you, even though she was the one that got away?

# : pairing ! danielle marsh x gn!reader

# : tags ! part 2 of lovergirl, angst with a happy ending, fr this time, from dani's perspective, best friends to strangers to lovers, unresolved feelings, title from a laufey song, i listened to a lot of niki and w2e to cry this out, this could go two ways: i'm sorry for making this; and i'm happy you cried

# : wordcount ! 8.1k

# : warnings ! none

danielle thought that leaving you would help her forget about you.

keyword: thought. because all she could think of since returning to korea is you.

the night before she left, you had a sleepover with her. danielle's sudden departure was unplanned—she was supposed to leave three days later. it's not like she was expecting to leave in the dead of night, either.

when she debuted in newjeans, she was able to distract herself from you, albeit only somewhat. the schedules—photoshoots, recordings, music video filming and whatnot—they keep her busy, leaving no time for her to think about her unresolved feelings.

but on her off-days, when their ceo graciously grants them a break (which, unfortunately, is pretty often. a blessing and a curse within itself) she's left with plenty of time alone with her thoughts, when she's not with her family or members. it also gives her plenty of time to think about you and your awkward, charming little smile.

okay, she admits it. she misses you. a lot. it's like life without carrots... that's a bad example. it's like... the moon without the sun. you two were like two peas in a pod.

and then danielle went and ruined it all by leaving. all to escape the feelings she harbored for you. but the words uttered that night were simply too dangerous. too... tantalizing. and if she had taken the chance, she would've chosen you over her career.

"dani?"

her inner dilemma is interrupted by a sweet-sounding voice—hanni, her older member who she's very close to. danielle is handed a plastic water bottle, cold to the touch, and she gratefully accepts it from the shorter girl's offering hands. the cool liquid flows smoothly down her throat, refreshing her senses after the exhausting performance they just had for their comeback.

hanni rests her hand on danielle's shoulder in concern. "you okay?"

"yeah," she answers, twirling a strand of her curly hair with her pointer finger, "just thinking about home."

a pause. the older girl purses her lips, and sighs. whenever danielle thinks about home, she gets into this mood.

it has three levels: one. she's a little down, but will invite the first person she sees out for a walk. and instead of being the one talking, she urges them to be the talker for the day; the opposite of how she usually is.

two: she's really down. it won't just be a walk, she'll be out of it most of the time, and will need to be distracted by something extraordinary, like a beach picnic on a nice, sunny and warm day with lots of fruits and vegetables, and extra carrots of course. that, or visiting haerin's dog.

...and three: she won't leave her room at all. nothing will get her out, not even carrots or a cute animal sighting outside of the newjeans dorm. no one is allowed in, and if you pressed your ear against the door you could very faintly hear her breaking down. after almost a day, one of the girls is let in to give her dinner and maybe stay for a few minutes for emotional support. (it's random every time, but haerin is usually the one to go.)

right now, she's in stage two. it was a simple music bank performance, but she'd allowed herself to make a couple of mistakes in the choreography once the line that reminds her of you was sung. on top of that, she had around five dance challenges to film with various idols, and those tired her out one after another.

sometimes, she questions the necessity of these tiktoks. sure, she gets to meet a lot of people, and that's fun because everyone is just so nice, but lately she's been wanting to just go home.

she's pulled up by the shorter vietnamese girl, out of her sitting spot in their green room. minji and hyein are by the door behind them, and haerin could be seen talking to their manager just outside.

"well, it's time to go home. what do you say about watching the little mermaid after dinner?"

danielle wanted to go straight to her room and faceplant into her bed, but she can never say no to watching the little mermaid.

"deal."

hanni grins and takes a step back. "and you know you can talk to us."

the statement makes her bite her lip. it's true, she knows that. she's confided in them a few times, but they don't know much about you other than the fact you were childhood friends and that danielle is very much still in love with you.

"i know."

with that, they set off to go back to the dorm.

everyone falls asleep in the van except her. the sky has turned dark, and all she could see outside is the city lights zooming by.

she's taken back to the nightly walks that were a regular for the two of you. you always said that something about it speaks to you, the way the moon casts an illuminated glow over the scenery.

you'd always adored the city lights. and danielle adores you.

it's chilly out on the rooftop, though soon it'll turn to hot, humid summer nights. danielle doesn't mind it; it reminds her of australian summers.

she sighs and leans against the railing. she still hasn't quite snapped out of her despondent state, despite hanni's best efforts to cheer her up via happy disney movie.

tonight is a waxing crescent moon. it's accompanied by the twinkling stars which light up the night sky. it's beautiful—danielle wants to just reach out and grab them, hold them up to her face so she can admire their beauty from up close.

alas, she can't. so she takes a lollipop out from her pocket and unwraps it. her mom always says to not have sugar late at night, but she supposes today is a special occasion. when was the last time she got to enjoy a good old late night snack, anyway?

it's a burst of cherry that she tastes as soon as the candy touches her tongue. maybe she should've picked green apple. or watermelon. cherry is getting kind of old.

a breeze blows by, and danielle shivers. her fatigue has been making her more susceptible to the cold. she pulls the sleeves of your her worn out hoodie over her hands, and takes a deep breath. it doesn't smell like you anymore, but it does create the illusion of being held in your embrace. hanni and minji have told her to get rid of it countless times, but she can't bring herself to. every time she tries, it's like the mickey mouse on the front of the garment is mocking her. "this is like, the last thing you have of her. you're not really gonna throw me away, are you?"

"i miss you," she says to no one in particular. no one that is currently present, anyway. you're probably still in australia, with new friends and new beginnings. or maybe you've started planning the opening of that bookstore you were going to open with her. except you'd be opening it without her now.

"i still love you. i meant what i said at the sleepover," danielle sniffles into the sleeve. "i don't know if you remember, you were sleeping. you're so cute when you're sleeping, is that weird to say?" she laughs, the tears still burning in her eyes. she wipes them away using the back of her hand. and, just for a moment, she swears she can smell you when she pulls on the drawstrings to bring the fabric tighter against her skin.

("you can't be serious."

danielle giggles as she feels your body sink into the space beside her on the mattress.

"you think i could make that up?" she teases, her gaze flickering over to you. you're now leaning on your palm, facing your body to danielle.

you fake a wince, holding your hand to your chest as if her words shot thorns through your heart. "ouch. you don't think i believe you?"

the soon-to-be trainee only shrugs, moving to lay flat on her back. your room is completely dark, save for the plethora of barely functioning glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. danielle feels your breath fanning her neck. "i do think you believe me."

"but there's no way he actually said that to her."

"you'll really just have to trust me on this one, y/nnie."

there's no response after that. danielle turns her head in your direction, watching your soft features fully relax in dim, pale-green lighting. there have been many times where she has seen this exact scene, from the numerous sleepovers you've had, but this one is different.

danielle fixes your position so that your head is tucked under her chin. she buries her head into your hair.

and it may seem cliché to do this while you're in a peaceful slumber, but she takes the leap of faith anyway. she's not naïve, she can pick up on the hints you drop her. she knows that you stare at her every chance you get, when you think she's not looking. that you do the littlest things for her, that you wouldn't even think of doing for others. that she could tell you to fetch the moon for her, and you'd come back with the whole milky way galaxy in your arms.

and she won't lie; she would do the same. she does do the same.

you, the moon to her sun. her breath of fresh air in a suffocating labyrinth. her source of light in the dark.

"i love you.")

fearing rejection, danielle snuck out in the middle of that night, going back home to pack her bags and catch the earliest flight to korea. to this day, she doesn't know why she did it. spur of the moment? or pure cowardice?

"i miss you so much. i should've stayed," she weeps into the night, wiping hot tears with the dark blue material. it's soaked at this point; she'd need to give it another thorough wash. "do you still love me?"

danielle wonders if you have ever spent a night breaking down under the stars, like she has done many times before. she wonders if her feelings will reach you, if all the things she's told the stars about you have overflowed all the way to where you were.

she gazes up at the sky one last time before shuffling back down to the dorm. her steps feel heavier, and she's exhausted. it feels like she could pass out any minute, but she'd much prefer to do that after she's in bed.

all the lights are off, which means everyone is probably sleeping—it's past midnight, after all. danielle quickly discards the finished lollipop stick and wrapper in the kitchen trashcan, and makes her way over to the corridor leading to their rooms. haerin's door is slightly ajar, an unspoken message of 'if you need me, just come in' that had been established since their trainee days, a habit that started when danielle started opening herself up to the other girls. the younger girl's company is appreciated and very comforting, but she won't need it tonight.

the australian languidly opened her bedroom door, sauntering through the entrance before shutting it behind her with a quiet thud. she maneuvers herself as best as she can through the mess that is her room, making a beeline for her bed. in the process, she bumps into a box with her foot, nearly falling over.

"wha-!" she yelps, taking a moment to catch her breath before her expression softens. she cautiously steps over the box to turn on her desk lamp, then moves the box to the desk to reveal its contents. it's filled with a bunch of her old stuff from australia.

school merch, trinkets and toys, old school projects, and more. what danielle focuses on is the pristine photo album sitting on top of the pile, and upon removing it, an unopened letter.

she can already feel more tears welling in her eyes.

as much as she'd like to go straight to reading the letter, she goes through the photo album first. unsurprisingly, it's full of her baby photos and family pictures. but as the her in the photos got older, she gained a companion... you.

at this point danielle's crying again. she'll have to remind herself to drink water later.

the both of you look so happy. so innocent. you and her covered in mud from that one day at the park. her feeding you ice cream at the local diner. you and her smiling at each other while holding hands. danielle can remember all of these so vividly, especially the latter; it was the day that you jokingly declared that you'd marry her when the two of you grew up.

she sets the album down, still open, to finally read the letter. it's very delicately packed, with 'danielle' written neatly on the front of the envelope. the ink has slightly faded over time, but it's still legible.

"dani,

isn't this so cheesy? writing a letter, i mean. remember when we'd write letters to each other when i was in sydney for like a month? i still have those letters, even though it's been around 4 years. i thought writing a letter would capture my feelings a little more, you know?

i like you. wait, scratch that. i love you. since we were 7, actually. and even after 11 years, my feelings have never faded. they seem to have grown even more since then.

and i'll just say that if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just wanted to tell you. you can just forget this ever happened. but on the off chance that you reciprocate... please come to my door so we can talk. or anywhere, really. maybe we should use a codeword for that situation. how about... "carrot loves moon"? sorry, i just thought of that, haha.

i know you're going away soon. make sure to keep in touch. i wish to stay your best friend forever, so do remember that i'm there for you wherever and whenever. whether its by text, or call. i want you to know that i will be there for you even if its not in person.

good luck, y/n :)"

danielle drops the lined paper onto the table, feeling her knees wobble and causing her to crumple onto the floor from her standing position at her desk. the tears are overflowing once again, and she pulls your hoodie closer to her body. the warmth she once felt, replicating your embrace, is gone.

you, are gone.

danielle had left you.

"are you...?" hyein blinks at danielle, trailing off once she sees the older girl's red, puffy eyes. danielle is one of the last ones to climb into their manager's van, with minji helping her get in.

it's around five am, and the day of the fansign. danielle doesn't remember when she went to sleep, but it was definitely not nearly enough to get her through the day. the first thing on the schedule is go to the salon and stay there for a few hours, then travel to the venue, order some takeout to eat for breakfast, and then get some practice in for the mini performances they're going to do at the signing. another long day, to no one's surprise.

despite the very terrible night she had, danielle manages to muster up a smile for the youngest. "i'm good."

hyein chooses not to comment any further. minji, on the other hand, who is sitting in the seat in front of the australian, turns around and her seat and frowns. "you were crying last night," she points out.

"i was."

it must've been noticeable to the girls staying in the rooms next to hers. she can't help herself though. last night in particular was one of the worst, especially with the discovery of your letter. how... how could she be such an idiot?

minji falls silent. danielle focuses on the passing scenery, a familiar route to the salon. although all she can really see are buildings, buildings, and... more buildings. hyein reaches over and gives her hand a light squeeze. the warmth of her hand makes her smile.

"let's go on a picnic on our next free day, are you up for it unnie?" the youngest whispers.

she turns to meet the girl's enthusiastic, but comforting gaze. "of course," she whispers back. "we can eat those strawberries we picked recently, too."

as per usual, hyein's eyes sparkle at the mention of strawberries. it's cute, and seems to cheer up danielle instantly. "and we can have carrots and cherries too! i'm so excited, dani-unnie..."

hanni and minji giggle quietly at their hushed conversation. hyein always knows how to brighten up the girl's day. it's haerin and hyein who are the certified dani-cheerer-uppers, but haerin is asleep in the passenger's seat.

the van pulls over to a secluded parking lot. danielle squeezes hyein's hand before they have to exit the vehicle. "i'm excited too! here's hoping there's nice weather soon. it's been kind of gloomy all week... i miss the sun."

the youngest beams at her. she reciprocates the gesture, this time being the first genuine smile in weeks.

maybe today will be a good day.

danielle's been getting bad vibes today.

she just can't put her finger on it. from the moment that the group set foot in the venue for the fansign, she's been getting this... unsettling feeling swirling around in her gut. but it doesn't make any sense. their trip to the salon went by faster than usual, meaning they had a considerable amount of time to enjoy breakfast, and have time to kill before they had to go up to practice. practice, by the way, went perfectly.

so why did she have this dreading feeling spreading throughout her body?

"you seem fine to me," haerin rests the back of her hand on danielle's forehead.

they both frown. "but then why's it burning?"

minji approaches the pair. they're in the green room, which is more lavish than any of the girls expected before coming here. although, the fluorescent lights are pretty blinding, that being something everyone can agree with. "what's burning?"

danielle scrunches up her face and rests a hand over her stomach, but switches to cover her heart. "somewhere between here and here. but i don't know what it is."

"it's not too warm in here, is it?" the older asks, looking around.

the cat-eyed girl blinks, "it's pretty cool in here, actually. do you feel warm, dani-unnie?"

danielle shakes her head. she doesn't feel neither cold nor warm; her outfit for the day does well to balance her temperature, so her issue is definitely internal. something's about to happen, she can feel it. literally.

a staff member peeks their head in the doorway. "newjeans, up in five minutes!"

oh well. guess the only way to find out is to face it.

"i really loved your lines in the title track, danielle!" an excited fan smiles as she shakes their hand.

despite her earlier struggle, danielle gives them a wide smile. interacting with her fans is one of her favorite things, they just mean the world to her. "thank you so much! i really liked my lines, too, especially in the bridge."

the fan enthusiastically agrees, and they both talk about their favorite songs on newjeans' 2nd full album, and also about danielle's latest appearance on 'chuu can do it'.

that's when she feels it again. that burning feeling in her gut. she glances around without turning her head, and she spots something—or rather, someone—taking their seat at the start of the table, in front of minji. no, it can't be, can it?

the line moves up and the closer the person gets, the more danielle's heart thuds against her chest. she tries to focus on the fan in front of her, but she can't help but sneak glimpses of the person every so often. when they get to hanni, it starts to get clearer and clearer.

your voice. your eyes, your lips, your everything.

danielle can't breathe.

"thank you," she chokes out, "for your support," she manages to grin at the fan as they get up to return to their seat. they look like they're about to say something, but the timer goes off and they have to leave with a look of concern.

thump. thump. thump.

you're looking down as you slide over with the signed album, one member's signature missing from the front.

suddenly danielle can feel herself be transported back to when she was 17. 17, at the beach with you, her pair of sneakers in one hand and your hand in the other. 17, at sunrise, the tide just barely grazing her feet, the wind tousling up her wavy hair. it's comforting just being in your presence; there's no words needed to be said.

tears well up in her eyes for what feels like the millionth time this week, and she narrowly catches the bite of your lip.

it takes her a moment, but she's able to say a single word. she's said it before, hundreds of thousands of times, but it's her first time saying it to you directly in six years.

your name. it's a beautiful name, she's thought that it was a beautiful name from the moment she met you. in fact; it was the first thing she had ever said to you, back when you and her were at the unruly age of six.

"y/n," she croaks out through the tears.

there's a stroke of hesitation in your eyes when you look up to meet her gaze.

the seconds go by slowly. your staring lasts for what seems like hours. danielle can only get so lost in your eyes before she says something she'll regret.

then, you spoke. "hi, dani."

dani. everyone calls her dani. but the nickname has always rolled off your tongue so nicely. it's music to her ears—both your voice and the way you say her name.

the conversation falls silent. she can briefly hear hyein's laugh two seats over, before she swallows thickly.

she has to say something. you don't seem like you're going to say anything, so she has to. she absolutely can't waste this moment. think, danielle, think! what's something that she could... say...

"carrot loves moon," she blurts out at the speed of light.

you're taken aback, she can see that. danielle almost wants to get up and run all the way back to the dorm so she can scream into her sun plushie. almost. but she takes a deep breath and repeats the codeword, firmly this time.

"carrot loves moon."

you move to rest your hand over hers, but stop midway. danielle's heart breaks at the action.

"dani..."

do you not love her anymore? did you really just come here as a fan? not to rekindle your relationship with her?

"let's talk, um, y/n. later. i, um," she coughs. her face feels like it's on fire right now. "here's my number," she whispers as she scribbles down the digits on a piece of paper she had in her pocket.

you reluctantly take the now folded note from her hold, fingers brushing against hers in an electrifying spark. you both flinch from the shock, and it causes her to widen her eyes.

instead of awkwardly brushing it off like she thought you would, though, you start laughing. and god, did danielle miss your laugh. it's her favorite sound, it's always been.

"sorry, sorry." you breathe out, after your laughter fizzes out.

you reach out to rest your hand on hers, not pausing this time. your hands are so warm.

and this time, you purposely turn your head so that you're staring into her eyes.

"i missed you, dani. i... i missed us."

'i missed you so much that i cried every night i was away from you, as a trainee. i missed you so much that i ruin your favorite hoodie with tears every time i wear it. i missed you. and i really, really want to kiss you, now more than ever because i missed all those chances back when we were in school,' she wants to say. but the clicks of cameras and fans cheering (minji and haerin probably did a pose together) remind her that you're at a fanmeeting. and that hanni and the fan in front of the vietnamese may as well be listening in on your conversation.

"i missed us too. and especially you..."

the ten second warning gets called, and you squeeze her hand tightly before slowly getting up with your signed album, still missing danielle's signature. wait, she forgot to sign it!

before you go, you pull out the folded note and flash a thumbs up with a small, crooked smile. danielle smiles back, wiping her tears and waving.

beside her, hanni looks at the other australian with her mouth agape.

danielle has a lot of explaining to do. but, she has other things to do. like texting you as soon as the fansign is over.

danielle loves the moon more than the moon will ever know.

the ride home is silent, again. it's an unspoken agreement—to wait until they got to the apartment before they talk about what happened today. danielle barely pokes at the food they order post-fansign, but even now she's not hungry quite yet.

every five seconds she checks her phone for any notifications from you. there hasn't been anything yet. any other day of thinking about you would've led to a more plaintive, gloomy danielle. but today...

"we're here," their manager turns to the girls. it's nearing sunset, since the fansign lasted three hours and they had a late lunch, chatting for around an hour during. after that they had a couple of errands to run so the newjeans members are all pretty exhausted.

the manager opens the door for haerin, who is sitting in the passenger's seat, and then goes to open the sliding door for the rest of the group.

they all follow their manager to the entrance. then once they're inside, they follow minji to rhe living room where they all took their respective seats: minji and hanni on the main couch, haerin and hyein on the beanbags, and danielle on the floor facing the two eldest.

"so," minji crosses her legs. hyein and haerin watch her and follow suit. hanni looks away to hide a chuckle.

danielle adjusts her position, sitting criss-crossed on the fluffy rug. it's soft on her legs, and she drags her hand back and forth against it absentmindedly.

hanni leans forward, hands on her knees as she gets awfully close to the younger girl. "that was y/n, wasn't it."

"your y/n," minji adds.

her y/n. it makes her giddy just thinking about it.

"stop giggling," the vietnamese groans, "we need to talk about this!"

danielle's phone buzzes, and she pulls it out to check without answering hanni. hyein notices this and snatches it out of her grip.

"hyeinie!" she whines, "what if that was-"

the younger squints at the screen, "it's just an ad..."

hanni clears her throat, making everyone direct their attention to her. minji furrows her brow, "if that was your y/n, then shouldn't we deserve at least some kind of explanation of your history together?"

something falls from the kitchen. danielle rises to go check it out, but haerin holds her down like a security guard at an interrogation.

"we grew up together," she surrenders. it was no use trying to escape at this point.

so she tells them everything. everything. from your bright and energetic first meeting, to the sleepover that was the calm before the storm, to the tear-stained letter and to your sweater she still needs to wash. every word that comes out of her mouth has a touch of fondness; now that she's been able to see you, it's less of sorrowfulness that is resting on her tongue, and more of a bittersweet drop of reminiscence.

everyone is left speechless when she finishes her recounting of her life with you. it's unsurprising; danielle has never talked about you much aside from your name and old mementos she kept. it has ventured into more of a foreign topic, unsure of whether or not they're ready to venture into the unknown that is you.

"dani..." hanni kneels on the floor next to the girl, capturing her in a comforting embrace. soon the other girls join in, and it becomes a soothing group hug—something danielle needs very much. the weight of the hug is enough to break down her vulnerable walls, and all of the pent-up emotions that have aged well over the years flow out like a mountain river.

for the first time, danielle has truly opened herself up to her friends.

time slows, and they're stuck in the same position for more than a few moments. hanni, minji, haerin, hyein—they've been patient with her for more than five years, been there for her at her lowest, and cheer her up when she needs it. danielle's crying not only because she told the truth, but because of how supportive her friends are. through grueling practice sessions, tough stages, colds and flus, lyrics and songs. their embrace only confirmed it: no matter what, they've got each others' backs.

"thank you," she sniffles but groans slightly. it hurts a little since hyein is squeezing her from the back, and it's gotten hard to breathe with so many people compressed together, but danielle wouldn't have it any other way. "i love you guys."

she gets a variety of responses: 'i love you too' (minji), 'i love you more' (hanni), 'i love you most' (hyein), and a soft squeeze on her forearm (haerin) and it makes her laugh out loud.

the hug is broken, and teary smiles are shared throughout the group. the two eldest get up and make their way to the kitchen, and hyein goes along with them. danielle moves to the main couch, and haerin follows after. she rests her head on the feline's shoulder, who promptly begins to play with her hands. hanni and minji's bickering serves as white noise to the pair.

danielle almost forgets about your incoming text. almost. that is, until hyein yells from the kitchen, disrupting whatever deep slumber the australian was about to fall into.

"you got a text, unnie!" the maknae stumbles back into the living room. she has a manic look in her eyes, which quickly spread to danielle, and she gets her phone back. the remaining two girls come in after, and they're now surrounding her around the couch.

unknown number hey it's y/n

it's just a simple greeting, but it makes danielle kick her feet against the sofa in excitement.

she glances around to the other girls, "what, what do i say!?"

"just say hi back!" she receives from minji. before she could type out a response, though, you text again.

unknown number this is the right number right?

danielle feels traces of movement behind her, and she looks to see it's hanni and minji (are we surprised?) leaning too far forward in order to see her phone screen. she instantly shoos them back with a wave of her hand.

you HI hi yes it's dani!

she changes your contact name. beside her, haerin gives her a side-eye.

ynnie hi dani

("move over!" hanni shoves minji to the side.)

"ask for a picture!" minji advises. danielle cocks her head to the side curiously.

"why?"

"for the profile picture...?"

you sry could you send a pic? for your contact photo ynnie oh ok [attachment: 1 image]

a wave of warmth washes over danielle's face. it's a selfie of you taken from what looks to be the sofa of a decent hotel room, with you sporting your signature smile (you still have those dimples!) and holding up the classic v-sign. she squeals with a way-too-happy smile on her face.

"they're so cute!"

(obscured from her view due to her outburst, haerin and minji shake their heads in sync.)

ynnie id ask for a pic too but you're everywhere on the net haha actually can you send one? you i thought i was everywhere on the net? ynnie exclusive selfie...

danielle's giggles get more and more obnoxious. it makes hanni groan and feign a gag.

you you just want me all to yourself don't you 🤭

you don't respond for a few seconds. oh no. is that too much? you just reunited a few hours ago, she should've waited at least a little longer before talking to you like that!

ynnie yeah i do

hanni makes an exaggerated groan and faceplants into the couch. haerin grins, although she can't tell whether or not it's at her conversation with you, or hanni's theatrical reaction. it's probably the latter.

ynnie you wanted to talk right?

her phone is snatched out of her grip again. hanni types away on the device, to danielle's horror.

"what are you doing!?"

"you guys are taking too long!" she's handed back the phone to see what the older girl sent. oh crap.

you can i call u?

"what the hell unnie!" danielle stands up in protest. the culprit gives her a toothy grin. she takes back whatever nice thing she's said about hanni pham so far. as she's about to start chasing her around the spacious living room, her phone rings. did you... actually call?

not wanting everyone to interrupt, she makes a wild dash to her room and locks the door behind her in a rush. her hands shake as she hovers her index finger over the green 'answer' button.

"hello?" your voice crackles out from her phone speaker. it's a relief to hear you once again. danielle sits on the edge of her bed, taking a nearby stuffed animal and using it as a stress toy. it's a blonde hamster plushie with a two-toned backwards cap on, one that hyein earnestly worked for at the claw machines while they were in japan. danielle can still remember the pride displayed on the youngest's face when she held it out for her to take.

"hi, y/n. again..."

"did you... need something?"

you sound really tired, and your voice is really raspy. like you just woke up from a really good nap. now danielle feels bad, all because hanni decided to tell you to call her. speaking of naps, images of your sleeping form at the sleepover flash in her mind and her face burns red.

"u-um," she hums softly. she can't think of anything to say, so she hopes her hesitance to answer pushes you to read her mind from the other side. and it seems to work, because you talk before she could go into some incoherent rant about everything and nothing.

"where did you want to meet? oh, actually, i found a nice and quiet café earlier today. it's kind of tucked in a corner and there weren't that many people there... maybe because it was early. but we could go if you're down."

danielle leans back to lay on the bed. she keeps the hamster plush close to her, lightly kicking her feet against the mattress. "that, that sounds good. send me the location?"

"sure. when are you free?"

she stopped to think. her and hanni have a photoshoot for vogue the next day, but the day after that, saturday, she's free.

"saturday."

"it's a date, then." and you hang up.

danielle hides her face behind her hands and squeals. the bed has sunken where she's been kicking her feet, and the hamster plushie that hyein gifted her... the poor thing, its face is also sunken in from her squeezing.

sorry, benedict.

danielle can't focus.

"let's take five! hopefully you can get yourself together, danielle-ssi."

the staff helping with the shoot disperse into groups, some lingering off to the side to chat and some going to the refreshment stands.

hanni presses her lips in a thin line, resting her hand on danielle's exposed shoulder. "look bro, i know you can't wait to meet y/n tomorrow but we have to get this done. the sooner we finish, the sooner you can go home and rest up, yeah?"

of course danielle wants to finish the shoot. she feels bad that her lack of focus is causing everyone inconvenience, yes, but when she thinks about meeting you tomorrow she just freezes up. the mood of your conversation yesterday was lighthearted, but what they're going to talk about at the café is anything but.

in less than a minute, some staff come back to touch up the girls' makeup. hanni takes it as an opportunity to continue the conversation. "it's not like you're on bad terms now? i mean, even after the dramatic reunion at the fansign, you talked just fine over the phone."

hanni is right, they did talk fine while texting and during the call. it almost felt like danielle was still in highschool, talking to you late at night while exchanging cringy lines bordering flirtation and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. but that was over the phone and she has to meet you in person. and it's different from the fansign because you're going to be seeing her one-on-one for longer than just two minutes.

the older girl snaps her fingers, bringing danielle out of her internal monologue. "you're overthinking it," she sighs, "i wish y/n could just tell you that everything is okay instead of you failing to gaslight yourself."

danielle's phone dings, and she whips it out faster than the other girl can even blink. hanni stares in disbelief.

ynnie hey still on for tmr?

and just like that, five words from you have turned danielle into a blushing schoolgirl once again.

you yes! i'll see u there xx

she suddenly remembers the fiasco that was last night, and she brings her phone out of her member's reach and sends her a dirty look. she raises both of her hands up in defense. the staff move away to re-prepare for the shoot.

"y/n's all yours, girl."

they finish the shoot in record time.

danielle arrives at the café early in the morning, and just as you said, it's almost empty at this time. she's feeling a mix of anxiety and hope, though more the former. she thought that maybe you didn't still... love her, but... well, she doesn't know anymore judging by your responses and texts to her throughout the day.

she adjusts her mask and cap and finds a seat in the corner of the shop, ordering an iced americano and an iced mocha latte. danielle doesn't know if you still favor bitterness over sweetness, but she hopes you appreciate the gesture.

the atmosphere in this place is calming. some slow r&b is playing over the speakers, and someone's typing in another corner serves as makeshift asmr for her ears. she's amazed at how you managed to find such a place on your first visit.

it's only 7:15; she's fairly early to the planned time. she thought it would be nice to walk to the shop and enjoy the city sights before rush hour.

the bells of the entry door toll in the tune of the westminster chime, and it attracts the attention of no one other than danielle. there you walk in, a searching gaze affixed to your eyes, until you eventually meet hers. a slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

"hi," you say, gently sitting down in the seat across from her. danielle pushes the cup of coffee towards you, and you shoot a knowing glance before taking a sip. a satisfied smile fully settles on your face, now. it sends shocks through danielle's heart.

"hi," she echoes, taking a sip of her own drink. "you like bitter right?"

"i love bitter. i can't believe you remember that."

"you'd be surprised."

silence befalls upon them. you take another sip of your drink, and danielle clears her throat, staring down at the table. she can't find it in herself to look you in the eye.

"i'm sorry."

'for not reaching out. for leaving too soon.'

"i'm sorry too."

your apology makes danielle look up in surprise. why are you apologizing? you didn't... you didn't do anything wrong.

"i should've at least tried to reach out," you answer her inner thoughts. the tension grows palpable as danielle tries to sort her words out. she pulls her cap off and sets it on top of her bag.

"it's my fault," she takes a deep breath. "i wasn't supposed to leave that day, you know?"

"i know."

"it's because of what happened at the—"

"—the sleepover," you breathe out, eyes softening when you move to place your hand over hers, albeit shakily. "i heard you."

her eyes widen. you squeeze her hand.

"i wasn't... actually asleep."

"why didn't you..."

"well, i fell asleep right after. and, by the time i woke up you were gone. packed your bags and left."

"i'm sorry," danielle says again. hot tears drip down her cheeks. "i still love you."

the chair screeches and for a second, she thinks you'd gone and left just like she did all those years ago. but you make your way over to her and wipe her tears, bringing her into a tight hug.

"moon loves carrot even more," you let out a watery laugh. "that's what i was going to say if you ever came up to my door and recited those codewords."

danielle would start sobbing if you weren't sitting in a café in the morning. so she does the next best thing and clings onto you even tighter. "i missed you so much, y/nnie. every time i was back home, i'd pass by our school and i'd just start crying. i didn't know if you were still home, and if you were then i've never seen you. not until you came on thursday."

she pulls back from your hug to blow her nose in a napkin. "why did you come?"

you ponder for a moment, drumming the tips of your fingers against the wooden surface. "for the fansign. i'm here for another two weeks."

danielle furrows her brow. that didn't really answer her question. "but why'd you come to the fansign? unless you became a fan. in that case, that's—"

"okay, enough out of you little missy. so what if i became a fan. i came for you, of course."

and she's back to being giddy again. being able to talk to you like this lifts a huge weight off of her shoulders.

"i guess i was just really desperate to reconnect with you. i spent a shit ton of money on a bunch of your new album so i could get in. i got my cousin in on it, too."

you take a big gulp of your coffee. the spot danielle chose wasn't very suitable for combating the heat. it's next to the window, which let the sunlight through, and it's not near any fans or air conditioning. she winces, and tries to cool herself by also drinking her latte. "you did all that? for me?"

you bring your gaze to look deep into danielle's eyes, causing her to shrink back slightly. "i'd do anything for you even now."

"ah," she squeaks out. her mind goes blank and then her thoughts start spiraling.

"wanna come over?" she says hastily, crossing her leg over the other.

you blink back at her in confusion, but your expression morphs into one of intrigue. "sure?"

"wait. not now," she abruptly stands up from her seat. "i need to clean!"

putting her mask and cap back on, she storms out of the establishment, leaving you there in bewilderment.

what did she just get herself into.

"what are you doing here?" is the first thing haerin says to you when she opens the door of their dorm to see your face. you gulp, and the feline smirks inwardly.

"uh, dani," you answer, not wanting to embarrass yourself with your poor korean skills. you could understand a little bit, thankfully more than how you started out, but you couldn't speak well.

haerin glares, looking you up and down. you grimace under her scrutinizing gaze. "you're not going to hurt her, are you?" her voice is stern but holds an immense level of concern for her friend.

widening your eyes, you shook your hands in front of you almost comically. this time, you answer in english. "no! no, none of that. i promise."

she continues to stare at you with a now unreadable expression on her face. that is, until danielle pushes her to the side to greet you with a bright smile.

"come in! i just speed-cleaned my room, that's so embarrassing. haerinnie didn't scare you, did she?"

"i don't know what you're talking about," calls out a voice from the side.

you laugh, shaking your head. "but it did feel like i was being interrogated by the strict parent."

danielle blushes. haerin is so protective of her, even though she's younger.

she takes your hand and leads you to her room. it's spacious, and is very neat. presumably because she just finished cleaning it. splashes of color are placed fashionably around the room, and her bed is filled with fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. benedict is tucked into a sky blue comforter.

"ta-da!" she presents with jazz hands. the gesture makes you chuckle. you walk to her desk and smile, picking up a six year old tear-stained letter. uh oh.

"you kept it," you say wistfully, fingers running over the fading ink. "and," you gasp, holding up the aged sweater, "my favorite sweater!"

"um, sorry for keeping it," she mutters abashedly, wrapping her arms around herself as if she is cold. which is ironic, since they were just in crazily blazing heat.

you approach the girl, draping the mickey mouse sweater back over her chair and reaching up a hand to pinch her cheek. "it's okay. i just wish i could see you in it. i bet you look way better than me."

danielle brings her gaze up to see you, eyes auto-focusing on your lips. uh oh, again. danielle really wants to kiss you.

so she does just that! getting on her tip-toes and cupping your cheeks with her hands so she could press her lips against yours. it's... bitter. from your iced americano. but the feeling of kissing you is extremely pleasant, way better than she's ever imagined. and before danielle could second-guess herself just kissing you out of nowhere, you kiss back and set your hands on her hips, setting another level of magic to danielle's world.

"oh my god," she says breathlessly, hands still on your cheeks.

you lift her up in your arms, causing her to let out a yelp, then carrying her to the bed and laying down next to her with a burst of laughter. "oh my god, indeed."

she turns to face you, a permanent smile on her face. she leans in for another kiss. "i love you."

"like a best friend?"

danielle punches your shoulder.

"ow! sorry! i love you too."

just as she's about to say some more cheesy lines, her door bursts open and four other figures come crashing down into her room. danielle sits up, petrified.

"guys!"

you sigh in content, watching her bicker with her members in a flustered state.

danielle marsh is and will always be your lovergirl.

("you know, for someone who has such a warm personality, i thought your hands would always be warm, too."

danielle looks at you surprised. the two of you are laying in her bed, fingers interlaced, after she successfully drove off her nosy members. "what do you mean?

you bring her hand up to feel against your cheek. her touch is ice cold. the action makes her flush deeply. "you're so cold!" you whine out, "can't you feel so much hotter my face is because your hands are cold!?"

"i—well—maybe you've just been captured by my charms and that's why you're blushing!"

"...touché, dani. still cold, though."

she directs her gaze to her ceiling. there's nothing in particular, unlike your room which had those green glow-in-the-dark stars. "that's why i can't sleep without a heating pad. i'm very cold-sensitive, especially since the ac is always on blast..."

danielle reaches over the side of the bed to pull out the mentioned heating pad. you can just barely see the carrot-patterned heat pack you'd gotten her for christmas, seven years ago.

"you still have this old thing?" you murmur softly.

the girl smiles at you. "cause... it reminds me of you. that's another reason i can't sleep without it."

"..."

"..."

you pull her in for a hug, pressing a kiss on top of her head. "i still have that dog plushie you won for me at the fair."

"no. way. really!? it's jerry senior!")

a/n: i hope you're happy guys lovergirl pt2 is FINALLY OUT it was dreadful i fear

[evilminji]

Was Krypto Jor-El's dog? Or did their family have another pet?

Because think about it. Thanks to Cujo, we KNOW animals with unfinished business or strong attachments stay behind. We ALSO know from nigh COUNTLESS videos on the internet that pets get REALLY attached to pregnant moms and by extention, the new pack members.

Krpton was an Alien planet. Just because SOME of the animals there looked similar to earth animals, doesn't mean ALL of them do. Nor does it mean they ONLY domesticated dog like creatures or cat like creatures. They could have anything from vaguely bear-like to fox-ish to small moose but with more teeth.

It was a completely different ecology.

And Jor-El? Him and his wife had a CHOICE to make. They had A pod. Singular. Tiny. Not a ship, not an escape pod, not even a refurbished shipping container. Just a pod with life support and all the information about Krypton they could fit. A guidance system that, gods willing, would see their son to a safe and sympathetic planet to be raised by kind people.

THEY couldn't even fit.

How in the gods name would a large pet? Even a mid sized pet. Let us assume, for this prompt, that being scientists of high position? Pays or allocates pretty well. They have the room. The resources. When they got married, Jor-El's wife REALLY wanted a cub or pup or what have you, of some large-ish animal breed.

The equivalent of an earth mastiff dog. Just an Absolute UNIT. Used to be gaurds and working beasts, now more athletic pets then anything. Known to be great protecters of Their People.

And well... Jor-El WAS already starting to notice some things that were making him Less Than Popular... probably nothing (he had naively hoped, at the time.) But better to have a Just In Case. Sure, honey. Let's get one!

And they LOVED Snookums.

Snookums ADORED them AND the baby! Kal-El basically NEVER left Snookums sight. He slept beneath Kal's crib. Followed them everywhere they went, when they were holding Kal. Planted himself like Kal's Sworn Protector as the baby drooled all over his fur. It was the cutest thing EVER.

But then?

No. Dear Gods No. Please... Please let him be wrong!

He's not. He never is. He is too careful with his calculations. To the point of near paranoia. Maybe they can stop it. If they DO something. Act IMMEDIATELY...

But...

Well, we all now how that story ends. Two people, standing on a launch pad, tears streaming down their smiling faces, trying to memorize the last moment they'll ever see their son. Praying this will be ENOUGH.

That they aren't trading one terrible death for another.

Watching their son disappear into the sky. Flying home as the ground groan as shakes, trees toppling and people screaming. Panicking. Dying pointless deaths that could have been stopped.

Walking into the home that should have been where they spent their whole live. Where, in a way, they WILL.

Knowing they won't grow old.

Sitting on the floor with their confused, frantic, pet as fire starts to light up the horizon. As the ground shakes violently on last, terrible time. Knowing the lethal heat will hit them before their ears ever register the sound.

It's Over.

But! Where is Snookum's Baby Kal!?

They are scared, confused, and everything is LOUD AND RUMBLY. Very Bad. Don't like that. Their ADULTS come back home. BUT NOT THEIR BABY. Where is Baby Kal?! Snookums is a GOOD Boy and a GREAT Protector. It is in his blood.

Something BAD is happening.

Has? Happened?

Everything is GREEN.

But that does not MATTER. Snookums can not REST. Can not stay here! They must Sniff and search and hunt! Look for Kal! Who is SMALL and needs to be protected! What if he is HURT? How will he SLEEP!? With no Snookums to cuddle for nap time!?

But the universe is large. And there is no smell in space. (Well, there ARE. But they are Stinky Gasses and those do not help Snookums.) So it takes lots and lots of time. Until! He meets a glowing blue dog!

A hopeful corgi? What is a corgi? Irrelevant! The hopeful one knows of Snookums' Kal! Oh, thank you small friend! You indeed DO give hope! We shall go at once and Kal shall be safe and with family once more!

Meanwhile? Danny? Wakes up to a sticky note on his forehead from Clockwork. "Bring Cujo with you to meet the Justic League"? What? WHY? He loves the pup, but Cujo has never behaved himself in a formal setting ONCE in his doggy LIFE. Danny is trying to make a good first impression!

But... Clockwork doesn't Post-It lightly...

Guess he's breaking out the doggy bow ties. Great. Wonder what THIS is about...

Four and a half hours later? Watching Cujo playfully wrestle with the ghost of what HAS to be a Kryptonian... gonna saaaaay.... Bear-fox? Which nearly TACKLED Superman, freaked the ENTIRE Justice League out, and nearly got him STABBED by Etrigon. Yeah. That was a good call.

Congratulations on your new ghost pet, Superman. No, he's not leaving. It just kinda happens sometimes. It's how Danny got Cujo. Wanna do pet playdates?

@hdgnj @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles @nerdpoe

[writingroom21]

Sweet Escape

Pairing: Rafe x single mom reader

Summary: Moving to Kildare with your best friend and daughter was the perfect move. The little island is perfect, the people are nice, and you are finally at peace. Then Rafe comes in with his perfect smile and charm, sweeping you off your feet. The only issue is if you are ready to let someone else in.

Warnings: None

Wc: 5.1K

series masterlist

Chapter 1: You again

The breeze blows your hair, obscuring your vision from the boxes in the back of the moving van. The weather was nice here in the outer banks, different to what it felt like in New york. Moving here right when Spring is in bloom was the best decision. Back home it’s still cold, barely even warming up. But here it’s so beautiful. The waves from the water behind the house hit the dock, the lapping sound making its way to the front.

“Grandma is having a blast with Vi right now. I know she’s glad to have a baby in the house again.” Jo your best friend says as she walks into the van to grab another box. It was her idea to move her. Her grandma was getting older and she wanted to come take care of her. When she figured it all out she just handed you tickets, telling you that you weren’t going to stay there longer.

Without consulting you she had talked with her grandma to let you and your daughter Violet to move in with them. She wanted to get you as far away from New York as she could. Jo is the type of best friend that feels responsibility for her friends. It was that way when you were children and it got worse when you had your own child.

The moment you found out you were pregnant she was there to cry along with you. She was there in the delivery room when your precious little girl was born. Every step of your life has been with her, never allowing you to go through it alone. You couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life.

“That’s good. I’m sure Vi is going to love being around her. Two peas in a pod probably.” You try to not get into your head as you pick up a box of Vi’s things. When you told your parents you were pregnant they weren’t happy. To be fair you were eighteen, fresh out of highschool. They tried to be supportive but couldn’t look past it when their friends from church started to talk.

They had kicked you out right before you gave birth, leaving you to be stranded. The father was a nightmare to say the least and that wasn’t an option for you. He was a mistake that you wish you could take back. A reminder of being what your family wanted to only be their disappointment. He seemed perfect to them but deep down he was a monster, no one you want around your baby to begin with.

The only option you had was Jo. Her family wasn’t like yours, they took you in with open arms. Embracing Violet as one of their own. Even though you lost your family that night they forced you out, you found another that loved you more. For two years it was perfect, Vi was growing up nicely, hitting all her milestones. You had a good job and had saved up enough money to move out on your own. Which was perfect timing since Jo was going to move here.

Then a week after she informed you of her decision you got a call from a lawyer. “Hello?” You answered. “Hi, I'm looking for.”  He says your name for clarification. “Yes, that's me.” You were confused on what this could be about. Worried that it was your ex. “I’m sorry to inform you that your parents passed away the other night in a car accident. The wake will be this week and the Will reading is after.” The shock of their death didn’t settle in fully until the reading.  

They had left you everything, they had abandoned you yet they left you everything. The next few months of winter were filled with you selling their house and settling the bank information. Getting the move ready so you and Vi would be comfortable once in your new home. Leading to now, standing in front of the house that is yours.

Grandma June had a pretty house in a nice neighborhood. The backyard was big and the water was right behind. A complete contrast to what you had growing up. You grew up in a townhouse, Jo right next door. It may have been more room then a regular apartment but you still had little room. There was no backyard to play in, the only time you had outside was going to the park. 

Your life, even if it may not have been bad, wasn't perfect either. Your parents preached religion and the bible until it was shoved down your throat. Telling you what you can’t and can’t do by the eyes of God. Introducing you to their friends' sons to meet the proper boy, look at where that got you. This move was a chance to continue to better yourself and give Vi the chance of being herself. 

You set the box down in the room that is now Violets. June had moved herself to the guest house outback stating that she doesn’t need all of this space. She had given the deed to the two of you, gifting the home as a thank you for not sending her off to a home. That meant you all had your own rooms. Vi still tends to sleep with you so her room is more decoration. 

“Who would have thought we would be here?” Jo’s voice says from the doorway. You turn to look at her. “Me a twenty-one year old with a two year old or that we moved out of New York.” She pounders for a moment, finger tapping her chin. “Hmm I was going to say us moving here but the toddler thing works too.” She laughs walking into the room more.

“We should paint the walls this week. Grams said there’s a paint store we can get it at. Should be near the shop.” You smile at her as you both go to get more boxes. Before moving here you wanted a stable job where you would be able to be with Violet more often. In New York you were a receptionist so you would have to leave her with Jo’s parents. So it was important for you to have the freedom to be with her since you can’t rely on June.

When you were looking around for jobs online you had seen that a flower shop was going for sale. Growing up you had always loved flowers. Books of plants, flowers, and gardening stuffed your bookshelves. With the money that was left to you from your parents you decided to buy it. Was it a long shot? Maybe but it couldn’t hurt to try. This way you will be able to have Vi with you at the shop without paying for a sitter.

With the van unpacked it was close to dinner time. Too tired from the day you and Jo decide to order pizza. But you make Vi her own meal on the side to have. You’re stirring the noodles that are in the pot when tiny footsteps can be heard. “Momma.” A little voice yells. You drop the spoon, turning to squat down. “Vi. How’s my favorite flower doing?” She giggles as you blow kisses on her neck and squeeze her tight. “She’s been such a little angel. Are you sure you don’t want to just leave her with me during the day.” June asks as she walks into the kitchen.

“Oh no I couldn’t ask that of you. Anyway, I want to spend as much time with her as I can. She won’t stay this small forever.” You finish up Vi’s food just in time for the pizza to get there at the same time. You all sit down and eat. You cut up tiny pieces of your pizza to let Vi try to see how she will like it. The table laughs when she smacks her lips and signs for more. 

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Your routine consisted of giving Vi a bath and putting her to bed. Then finishing up some things before tucking in for the night as well. Before you know it the alarm is going off and it is bright outside. It’s seven o’clock so you have roughly thirty minutes before Vi gets up. 

Quickly you head to the bathroom for a shower rushing to head downstairs and start breakfast. When breakfast was finished it was time for her to wake up and you go to her room. Which she actually slept in last night. She’s rubbing her eyes, burrowing her head back into her pillow. “Goodmorning baby girl.” You softly say as you rub her back to gently wake her up more. “Hi momma.” Her voice is like music to your ears, always making you smile.

Slowly but surely she gets up, both of you entering the kitchen to eat. “Morning.” Jo yawns over her coffee mug. “Morning.” Strapping Vi to her chair, you place her plate in front of her before grabbing yours. Jo sits down across from you as she sips from her mug. “Any plans for today?” You finish chewing the piece of toast and look up at the girl in front of you. “Going to the shop. Want to work some stuff out before it opens again.”

“Bug and I can chill her with grams while you do that. I have the day off.” A sigh of relief is released. “Thank you. I need to make sure the ship of flowers is accurate. I need to restart the garden in the back.” Jo let’s out a “damn” while shaking her her. “Good luck with that. That sounds like a lot of counting. Counting yucky, right Vi.” The end is talking to the toddler. Her giggle lighting up the room. 

After finishing Vi’s morning routine you change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The weather was nice but there was still a chill in the air. You walk down the stairs to see Violet on the floor of the living room playing with some toys. “Hi sweetie. Heading out?” June is sitting on the couch smiling at you. “Yup I’m going to the shop today. Do you need anything while I’m out?” She shakes her head and laughs when Vi hands her a toy. “I’m okay. Now go ahead before we keep you here.”

June has been in love with Violet since she was born. She had visited Jo’s family right after you got back from the hospital. From that moment on she was always asking about her and buying her things. She said it was the first baby since Jo so it’s like she has a great grandbaby. Everyone was so kind about you having a baby so young and you couldn’t be more grateful. Which is something you wish you could say about this flower delivery. 

The flowers were delivered yesterday right before you all started to unpack. You had rushed to let them in and place everything inside that you didn’t pay attention to when they did. The previous owners of the shop were older and couldn’t keep up with it anymore. The garden they had in the back that grew some of their flowers was dead and the others wilted a long time ago. So ordering flowers to fill the story was the only option you had.

Which seemed really great at the time but now it doesn’t. You had come in and set your bag down on the counter. Looking around you see the endless sea of flowers staring at you. You go to the back to the office and get the clipboard you had placed there yesterday. Painfully slow you separate the flowers by their species. Having to count every single one was starting to prove to be a difficult task.

One that got even worse when you found out you were short on some flowers. This wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that they were popular flowers. Roses, tulips, baby’s breath, carnations, all flowers that people love. You were opening up the store in two days and you need to make sure you have a good supply. June had said that a lot of the rich folk like to throw parties and will buy flowers. You need to be prepared just in case.

You were in the middle of counting the Anemone when the store's front door started to rattle. Stepping into view of the door there’s a tall man standing outside with his back to you. He’s on the phone and using his hands to talk wildly. The man turns around again to try the door and sees you standing there. He snaps his fingers at you and points to the door handle that’s locked.

You walk over and unlock it, opening it slightly to ask him what he needs. “Can I help you?” The guy is tall, handsome, his hair is growing out from a previous buzzcut. He has on a shirt that is too tight on him and a pair of khakis, not usually what you find attractive but he pulls it off. “Yeah. For starts you can let me in and second you’ll put my order in.” He holds up a pointer finger at you.

“I know. I’m here right now, if the new girl would let me in it could go faster.” He says into the phone. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll let you know when they will be delivered.” You give him a complex look. “Sorry but we aren’t open right now. You have to come back in two days.” You try to close the door but his foot catches it. “Look, I really need an order for tomorrow. The florist we were using canceled and I need them. There’s a banquet and the stupid tables need flowers.”

 You look back at the store and at him again. It wouldn’t hurt to do this order but you haven’t finished inventory yet. He could be asking for flowers that you can’t even give him. “I’m sorry but I’m not even open yet.” He interrupts you. “Well just open the store up and ring me out. I get you are new here but come on.” His tone is rude, annoyed that this is taking longer than he wants. “No, I can't just open up the store. I’m new here because I just bought it and I don’t even know how many flowers I have yet. So no I can’t help you, I’m sorry.”

He scoffs at you. “Do you normally buy things you don’t know if you can handle or is this a spur of the moment thing? I need those flowers.” This guy really has some audacity. “Do you normally talk down on workers or are you just a asshole?” Your head tilts to the side, looking up at him. The sun is burning your retina is making it hard to see anything but the lower part of his face. Even through the pain you can see the smile that crept on his face.

“Good luck with opening this up. I can clearly see the customer service is subpar.” With that he’s walking off down the street, pulling out his phone to probably call someone else. “Hey asshole, the flower delivery was short with some. So that’s the main reason I can’t help you. Don’t just assume shit.” Without looking back he calls out to you. “Sounds like an issue you need to fix. Try calling them up next time.”

Fuck. Of course you could just have called them this whole time. Quickly, you get back inside to finish the inventory to see what else is missing. After another hour you are done, exhausted from all the back and forth. Sitting down in the back office you call the distributor that you had used, explaining to them which flowers were short and how many you would need. Thankfully the lady on the other end didn’t give you any trouble, telling you she would have them delivered tomorrow. 

By the time everything was done it was around 5:30, which meant you should head home for dinner. The drive back to the house was peaceful. In New York you really didn’t need a car, you had spent most of your time in the city so you took the subway. Every now and then you would have to drive to family in the suburbs, this reminds you of that drive. Seeing the trees and greenery is like a breath of fresh air. 

It was a reminder that your old life was left back States away, no monsters here to haunt you. It’s refreshing knowing you got a new start and that Vi will get to grow up in a good place. When you get home it’s ten minutes until dinner should be served, at least for Vi. She’s on a strict schedule and will get fussy if she doesn’t eat or sleep at the same time.

You were greeted with shouts coming from the living room, footsteps playing the floorboards like a piano. “Momma!” Vi screams when she sees you in the hallway. “Hi pretty girl. How is my favorite doing? Had a good day?” She nods, tiny hands wiping her hair off her face. “Ya. Jo play.” She points to your friend who’s standing behind her. “She’s been making me run around for hours. How do you do this all the time?” 

You pick Vi up, walking towards the kitchen as you give her a bunch of kisses. “Lot’s of coffee and I have amazing people who help me.” Jo throws an arm around your shoulder walking with you. The table was already set, plates filled with food. “Yeah we are pretty amazing. So amazing that grams are giving us the night off.” You place Vi in her seat and look at Jo. “What do you mean?” 

She puts Vi’s food down in front of her before sitting to eat her own meal. “She means that you two are young and need to have fun. So I’ll stay here while this angel sleeps. Have fun for once.” June says as she makes her way back from what you assume is the bathroom. “Before you even try to say anything I told her she didn’t have to. She won’t take no for an answer so tough luck.” You don’t even argue, Jo’s parents always say she got her stubbornness from June so that is not a hill you want to die on.

Over dinner you tell them about your day. Explaining how you found out there were flowers missing and that you had to call for new ones. Finishing off your story telling with the asshole who thought he was special so that made him entitled to your flowers. “Sounds like a dick.” Jo said without thinking about the two year old sitting next to her. “Sorry.” June thought it was hilarious. Saying “it’s about time someone told those snobs the world doesn’t revolve around them.”

After dinner you spent time with Violet. Playing some more with her toys, then a bath to get the dirt off of her, and then reading bedtime stories to her. After each one she would let out a “nader'' informing you she wanted another story. The third one is always when she falls asleep, as soon as the first words are out so is she. Slowly and quietly you slip out of her bed and room.

“Ready?” Jo’s voice scared you, jumping from the fear shooting through your body. “For fucks sake Jo. Let me just change into a different shirt, I have Vi drool.” The other girls face twists in disgust as you pull that part of your shirt to show her. Not the worst thing you’ve had on you since becoming a mother but she still finds it gross. After changing the two of you head over to a bar.

The place actually looks really nice. There are lights strung up on the outside seating and the inside has amazing decorations. “What do you want? I’ll go get us the first round while you find us a table.” The first round? Damn Jo meant it when she said we will be living up the night. You haven’t really been out since your 21st, having a daughter doesn’t give you a lot of time to go out.

Plus you never really drank in highschool so this is a whole new ballpark for you. “Um I don’t know. Just get me something you will think I’ll like.” With that she was off to the bar as you found a table to sit at. The drink she came back with was in a tall glass and is yellow. You take it from her hands inspecting it. “What is it?” She rolls her eyes at you and takes a sip from her drink. “It’s a passion fruit mojito.”

You like passion fruit so this should be good. Oh yeah, that drink is delicious. You take a good few sips of it. “That’s fucking delicious.” Jo laughs at you. “Told you.” The two of you sit there for a while. Taking your time to finish your drinks. When they were done it was your turn to go up and get drinks. Since Jo is driving back she just wanted water but she insisted that you had to keep drinking.

The bar is a little more packed now, so you’re stuck waiting for the bartender to come around. Tapping your fingers lightly on the counter surface you space out, not realizing that the seat next to you was moving. “He won’t notice you for another five minutes. Blaire just sat down so he’ll be chatting her up for a bit.” The voice next to you sounds familiar, turning your head you can see why. “You again.” The guy from earlier smirks at you. “Now why does that sound like a bad thing?”

You look down at the other end of the bar to see the bartender flirting with a girl. Crap. “Maybe because you were rude and entitled. But hey what do I know?” Your brain is telling you to leave, just tell Jo you’ll go back up in a little. Then there’s a little voice in your head telling you to stay. For some reason there’s a part of you that is curious about the stranger.

“Pfft me entitled or rude? You’re the one who said that you wouldn’t let me order flowers.” Your eyes narrow at him, his arms shoot up in defense. “I know your shipment was fucked up.” He gives you a curious look. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“That’s because I just moved here. Don’t really know anyone besides my friend and her grandma.” You point back to Jo, his eyes following to see your friend with a wide eyed expression. “I don’t think I know her. Think I’ve seen her before but years ago.” He looks back at you, examining your facial features. You’re really pretty, he was too wrapped up in frustration earlier to notice. He’s sure noticing it now though. 

His chair seems to get closer to you, scraping against the sticky floors. “Where did you move from?” You had expected him to stop talking to you yet here he is asking you questions. “New York. I lived there my whole life.” He leans his arms on the counter, looking at you from the side. “Nice, I’ve been there a few times. Do have to say the pizza wasn’t actually good.” You gasp at his outrageous statement. “What? You’ve got to be joking, it's the best. You just didn’t go to the right places, probably some fancy restaurant that sells those tiny portions.”

He’s cracking a smile from your mini rant. You’re right, it was one of those restaurants. The ones where it cost $400 to just get a table and everything is super expensive even though it's a meal for ants. He’s never seen anything wrong with those places, grew up his whole life eating at them. In this moment he wishes that wasn’t the case, that he knew how to be a normal person and not someone with money. He would have never been caught at a dingy restaurant eating food yet here he is longing to experience that. An experience he didn’t know he was missing until your reaction.

“Oh my god it was one of those places. You can’t say you’ve been to New York if you haven’t really tried their food.” He turns on the stool so his legs are facing you. “Wouldn’t that technically be their food as well? They have high class restaurants there.” He likes the way your eyes roll at him, wanting them to do it in a different way. “That’s like going to Italy and eating at fast food places we have in America. Yeah it’s their version but it’s not actually Italian food.” “I would never. Italy is too perfect to not eat their food.”

You look at him, a smile plastered on your face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been to Italy and I’m making a fool of myself.” He can’t help but to chuckle at how cute you are when you are nervous. “Alright I won’t say anything.” He shrugs. You let out a groan, of course he has. He looks like he has money so what else did you expect. “What can I get you?” 

The bartender cuts the moment the two of you were having. “Can I get a whiskey and whatever she’s having.” You look back at Jo and she sends you a thumbs up. “I’ll just have a passion fruit mojito.” The bartender leaves you two as he goes to make the drinks. “Wouldn’t have taken you as a mojito girl?” You look at him, blush forming on your cheeks. “Yeah? What kind of girl would you take me as?” He doesn’t know if you are flirting but he sure the hell hopes so. “Maybe a margarita. I feel like you’re a tequila girl.”

You giggle at the implication. “The last time I had tequila it got me in trouble.” It did, that’s how you ended up with a baby and being kicked out. “I like trouble.” Fuck. You had told yourself when moving here to just stick to yourself and everything will be fine. THen this guy walks in and you want to throw it all out the window. It’s not fair, he’s too hot to even say no to.

“You know I got to say I never met a florist as pretty as you” He tells you, leaning in closer but keeping a good distance. “Are you flirting with me so I can change my mind about those flowers?” He laughs, turning so he is now facing you, resting his weight on the counter top. “No, just flirting. Would it help me get them though?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “You are not getting flowers. I would still have to prepare them and I wouldn’t get it done on time.Plus who knows if the reshipment will get here on time” You take a sip of your drink. 

“What if you had help?” Your eyes look into his. They're pretty. A shade of blue that in this light somewhat seems gray. They remind you of Vi, she had pretty blue eyes too, that she got from your mom. “You would hire help for me?” He scoots closer, his hand playing with the ends of your hair. “I could help you.” His fingers brush against your arms. The words seem to have an undertone of something. Simply suggesting something else. “How?”

The smirk that forms on his face makes you want to kiss him. His hand clears your face from stray strands of hair, eyes locking to yours. “However you want me.” This isn’t really feeling like you’re talking about flowers anymore. You aren’t sure if you should shut it down or keep going. The drinks were placed in front of you, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he hands the bartender his card. To relax yourself you take a sip of your drink, which only makes it worse. Now your relaxed mind can only think about dragging him off somewhere to see how much he could really help.

You’re interrupted before you can make a mistake. “Yo country club we gotta go.” A man walks up to the two of you. He nods at the guy. “Give me a sec.” The man looks at the both of you and shakes his head. “Aight five minutes.”

“Have somewhere to be?” He downs the rest of his whiskey. “Wish I didn’t.” Your blush intensifies. Shifting in your chiat you rest a hand on his lap. “Too bad. I was just starting to like you.” He stands up, catching your hand as it falls. “Guess I’ll have to refresh your memory tomorrow.” Your hand tightens around his. “Wait tomorrow?” 

“Gotta help you with those flowers right?” He actually meant it. “Fine.” He smiles and drops your hand, backing away from you. “I’m Rafe by the way.” You tell him your name, grab your drink and get up as well. “See you tomorrow beautiful.”

You smile all the way to the table, meeting Jo whose mouth was wide open. “Dude you were just flirting with Rafe Cameron.” You shrug your shoulders at you and sipping your drink “So what?” Her face flashes with different emotions. “So what? Dude he’s literally the richest person on this island. After his dad passed away he inherited the family business, he’s dumb rich.”

Jo won’t shut up about how hot the richest guy in Kildare was flirting with you. She gave you some of the run down on him from her “sources” on the island. Those sources being friends she made when she would visit. He apparently has a mean streak, causing fights with people. How he would sleep around with every girl and on top of that did drugs. It shouldn’t have shocked you but it was surprising to hear.

You thought over everything as you laid in bed. Rafe seemed funny and sweet when he talked to you in the bar. Those two versions of him do not seem to align together. Yet again you had only met him today and you don’t have the greatest track record with guys. It doesn’t matter anyway. You weren’t looking for anything anyway, all you needed to focus on was yourself and your daughter.

Taglist: @haruvalentine4321 @namelesslosers Let me know if you want to be added

[mortimerc]

𝔄 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫.

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 5

Male - GN Reader x Sebastian Solace

TW : blo0d, t0rture, g0re, obsessive behaviour,

(Note: This might be the last chapter but I might write one last chapter that will be a smut so be warned. I will only write it if you guys want me to. Comment on this post if you want to.)

* ‧̍ ˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍ * 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍

The day has come.

Your experiment.

You and Sebastian had been working on an escape plan to get out of this hell. You guys have been planning on this ever since you guys heard of a company called ‘Urbanshade’, the company that was experimenting on Sebastian, transporting him to the ‘Hadal Blacksite’.

The day of the transportation was the same day as you are going to be experimented. And of course, once again you’ll be separated from him again.

Now you and Sebastian are holding each other in your cell, him not wanting you to go, not wanting you to be hurt the same way as he did.

“I don’t want you to go..”

“I have to, and you also need to be ready. Remember our plan?”

“Of course,, but still-“ Sebastian was cut off by a guard opening the cell door, interrupting them. As they walk in, suddenly they forcefully grabs your wrist.

“Hey- what are you?-“

“Let them go!” Sebastian protests

All efforts were in vain as you were dragged out, leaving Sebastian alone in silence soon met with the sound of footsteps that Sebastian knows too well. It was the scientist. His thoughts were interrupted by the cell door opening once again.

“Hello there, mr. Solace.”

Sebastian stays silent and not looking at the scientist.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here. Hope you pack up whatever you need because we’re going now.” He said while signing the guards behind him to cuff Sebastian.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian was slithering alongside the guards, he covers his ears, not wanting to hear the screams that emitted from you, echoing throughout the hallways.

“God..” hot tears trickle down his face.

“You seem to be very close with HR-P (High Rank Prisoner), Z-X. We also call them ‘The Perdition’, and we’re almost done with their document, so tell me more about it.” The scientist questions

“I’m not telling you shit-!”

“Hahah, you’re so easy to rile up. I’ve already know what’s between you two. You two are like two pieces in a pod.”

“Shut up,,”

“Well we’re here. Get in.”

A submarine soon rises to the surface of the water, door opening. The guards pushing Sebastian in.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As they arrived to the blacksite, they checked the surroundings before exiting the submarine. Sebastian takes that chance to hit the guards, attacking and killing most of them while the scientist runs away in cowardice.

The scientist ran into a lab room and called for a lock down, and this is when all it began. Sebastian releasing all of the experiments and marine discoveries found in the blacksite.

Soon, Sebastian heard from one of the guards before killing him, “EXR-P will come here to retrieve the crystal soon, I’ll prepare everything.”

The crystal? Sebastian did research on the crystal and finds out that it is something that provides power to this place. To a normal human being, that might be fine, but Sebastian is not a normal human being anymore. He’s a creature. A monster. He had to stay here. It’s the only place he can hide away.

Before coming to the blacksite, you and Sebastian planned on meeting here, in his makeshift shop. But you’re not here, not yet. Maybe in a few days?

All Sebastian can do is just wait.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As the prisoners leaves his shop, Sebastian is left alone in silence, loneliness that he wished you would fill.

But it’s been years. Years since he has seen you. But you promised. You always keep your promises.

His thoughts were soon interrupted when the prisoners from earlier ran into his shop, panting, panicking and shaking.

“Heh what did you do this time? Run into pandemonium? Hmph, incompetent as always.” Sebastian snarked

“N-n-no n-no, not that thing. It was something else.” They said frantically

“Just get to it.”

“Wh-when we encountered it, I think they was mumbling something about being ‘The Perdition’?”

Sebastian’s face turns pale.

“Perdition? Can you tell me what do they look like?”

“Uhm, I can’t tell. I think I saw a shark tail., I-I- think wings?? And their face covered in blood. Long limbs for sure. I can’t remember more, I was too scared”

They both sat in silence until Sebastian broke it

“… I think it’s safe now, get out.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian roams the hall, he soon smells the stench of blood. Th smell of blood reeks from the other side of that door.

When he opens the door, his eyes landed on horror that people can’t comprehend. The prisoner from earlier dangling on the ceiling, caught up by their guts.

His eyes landed on a person, facing away from him, sitting on an office chair. Their frame looks like he had a shark tail, elongated limbs, ESCA that belonged to an angler fish, and the wings coming from their head making them look like an angelic being.

It all fits the prisoners description.

“We meet again, Sebastian.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

You find yourself embracing Sebastian in your arms, you both missing each other. A long awaited moment, reunion that you both wished for.

“You came back..” Sebastian says with a content tone in his voice.

“I always keep my promises.”

“Why did it take you so long? What happened?”

“It was not easy for me to get here. With the lockdown, I still had to recover from my surgical experiment.”

Sebastian hugs you tighter, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, almost making a purring sound. Being comfortable in your lap “I miss you..” he said while lifting his head, looking into your eyes

“I miss you too..”

You two sit there in silence, and slowly but surely, you both close the gap. After a long and passionate kiss, you both pulls away, panting.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.. for a long time..”

“I love you, Seb..” you said while pressing your forehead against Sebastian’s.

“I love you too, [Nickname]…”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

To be continued..?

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Project R AU where Danny is a clone created from the DNA of all the Robins past and present by the drs Fenton when they were teenagers.

Upon realizing the child they had made was going to be used as a weapon for evil they quickly and quietly packed up thier family and belongings and jumped ship to a new dimention with the kid after putting him in stasis so he was essentially frozen in time.

Later on little Jazz finds the baby in the tank and assumes the stork had made a delivery and flips the switch to release him from stasis so he can finish growing. A week later the pod beeps and she brings him out of the storage room as a chubby healthy baby and her parents loose thier minds for a bit.

Danny grows up normally...well not really but you get what I mean. Maddie makes sure Danny knows how to fight and wouldn't take no for an answer. No matter how much Danny complained that he wanted to play video games, go to the park with his friends or that Jazz didn't have to fight, she would never relent. Maddie knows she's nowhere near the level of a fully trained assasin but she wanted to give Danny every leg up she could.

She knew he would need it. Call it a mothers intuition.

Well, crap happens. Vlad outs Danny as Phantom and it ends very poorly for the wannabe vampire. Danny escapes into the GZ but just barely and is forced to leave his old life behind but not before Jazz tells him about what she had recently learned about Project: R.

The portals are destroyed and Danny flees to his home dimension in search of his fathers. Unfortunately when he gets there he learns most of his fathers are dead, only Damian Al Ghul and Jason Todd remaining, both having very strained relationships with thier own father Bruce Wayne and everything has gone to crap.

Theres an evil dictator in red and blue ruling the world and they're the reason two of his dads are dead. So he decides to rip the symbol off his chest, put on a mask and make his big debut as Phantom.

How you may ask?

By killing the evil Superman and his cronies on live television and announcing that he's the child of Project: R and what that means.

Damian finds Phantom in Bludhaven looking for him and asking him to take him in only to get refused. Damian fears that Bruce might try to turn Danny against him so is hesitant to get close emotionally.

Jason has no such concerns and scoops him up before Bruce can dress him like a traffic light. They then have the superhero talk and Phantom says he wants to be a anti-hero not a superhero. He already tried that one and it sucked so much. Jason definitely didn't like the fact his kid had been a superhero at any point but finding out pretty much all the adults in Dannys life had failed him so hard made Jay fly into a rage.

Bruce tries to go for custody but fails. Dannys doesn't like how the Titans treat Damian so he steals all the ABBA cds from the tower and makes off like a thief in the night. When they discover this they flip out because those were Dicks and they became practically sacred after he died.

Danny decided to cause problems on purpose. Such acts include:

1. Turning all the furniture in the common rooms of the Titans Tower into hyper realistic cake so when they sat on it/tried to turn on the TV, ect they'd be in for a suprise.

2. Stealing all the tires off of every vehicle Bruce owned and giving them to Jason/whoever was down on thier luck and couldn't afford to change thier tires. Danny says he has "a legacy to uphold" while balancing on the top of on of the tires as he runs it across Gotham

3. Torments Black Mask and Slade. Somehow all thier homes and safe houses are filled with beans. Yes, beans. Whenever they are in Gotham they get beaned in the face with a pickle. (This is worse for BM cause ya'know)

They have no idea whos doing this or why.

Ras Al Ghul is not amused by the pickleing but does not get beanified cause Danny doesn't know where most of his places are so he gets A LOT of pickles thrown at him every chance Danny gets.

4. Danny decides Damian requires lots of snuggles and just turns intangible whenever Damian tries to pry him off. Multiple people keep comparing him to Dick and its starting to get on Dannys nerves. He has three other dads to compare him to and Dick isn't even the only dead one! What about Tim??? He wants to learn about Tim! He demands his fathers tell him about themselves and Tim

[generic-sonic-fan]

Tensile

Summary: Shadow says he is drawing a model of a combat encounter. Omega suspects there's more going on.

796 words

---

“YOU ARE STILL AWAKE.”

Shadow looks up from where he’s sitting on the living room floor. His hands hold a pen and paper against the coffee table.

“ORGANICS REQUIRE AT LEAST EIGHT HOURS OF REST.” Omega says.

“I’m modeling a combat scenario.” 

Omega approaches and, with only a little bit of clattering, sits down on the floor beside him. 

Shadow spreads the paper out, revealing a crudely-drawn oval. At the top of this oval is a symbol that might represent a door. Six red dots are placed loosely around it. On the other side of the oval is a square-shaped symbol. 

“They enter here.” Shadow points with his pen. “Blocking the entrance.”

“THEIR ARMAMENTS?” 

“M16 rifles, 40 round magazine size. Secondary HK-45 tactical pistols. For each of them.” 

Omega knows immediately these were not Badnik armaments. 

“They enter here.” Shadow repeats. “The only other exit is here. It requires external activation.” 

He gestures to the square-shaped symbol across the oval from the attackers. There’s a smaller station drawn just outside of it. 

“There is one person with adequate power to fight. And there is a civilian.” Shadow says quietly. “They are trying to get through the other exit to escape.” 

“WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU TRYING TO MODEL?”

“How the defenders could escape.”

“THE COMBAT-EQUIPPED DEFENDER COULD UTILIZE THE FREE-STANDING EXIT OR ITS LEVER AS COVER.” Omega points.

“No, the pod- it’s glass. Any bullets hitting it would damage the exterior and cause problems during re-entry.” 

“THE COMBAT-EQUIPPED DEFENDER COULD CHARGE THE ATTACKERS, PROVIDING DISTRACTION FOR THE CIVILIAN TO ESCAPE.”

“No, you don’t understand! They’re already trained on her, they’d fire the moment I’d-” Shadow stops himself. “The moment he moved.” 

Omega stares down at the sheet of paper, at the six red dots, the pen marks pressed down so hard that they’ve almost torn through the page. And he analyzes Shadow’s use of pronouns. And the time of night he is modeling this “combat scenario”. 

And he replies, “THERE IS NO POINT TO FURTHER ANALYSIS.”

Shadow clenches his fist, breaking the pen he’s holding in two, spilling ink across his glove. 

“YOUR BEST COURSE OF ACTION DURING THIS EVENT IS ALREADY APPARENT TO YOU. THERE IS NO FURTHER VALUE IN RE-SIMULATING THIS.” 

Shadow shoves Omega, smearing the ink across his chest. 

It’s a paltry gesture, not enough to actually move him. “THIS IS WORTHLESS SPECULATION.” 

“Worthless?” Shadow hisses. “You think this is worthless?” 

“AFFIRMATIVE. YOU HAVE ALREADY LEARNED AND IMPROVED FROM THIS COMBAT ENCOUNTER LONG AGO.” 

Omega recalls more sophisticated tactics Shadow had employed seconds after awakening from stasis, to save an startled Rouge from a hail of gunfire greater than any squad of GUN agents could hope to muster. Gunfire from Omega’s own targeting. 

He does not mention this.

Shadow stares down at the page.

“THERE IS NO PURPOSE IN UPSETTING YOURSELF OVER THIS AGAIN.” Omega grabs the paper from the table.

Shadow doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t stop him when he rips the page in half, either. 

“RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS. WE HAVE A MISSION TOMORROW.” Omega draws a flame thrower and with a small puff incinerates the remains of the combat model. 

But before he can stand, Shadow throws himself against his chest. 

He freezes as Shadow’s hands scrabble for purchase on the sides of his plating as his body begins to shake. As the first sob registers in the air. As he closes his eyes and moisture begins to spill out.

Omega sheathes his flamethrower, and in a motion he has to calculate from only a few quickly-retrieved memory files of Amy’s posturing, he lowers his hands until they settle around Shadow’s back. 

Between his fingers he can feel Shadow’s diaphragm spasm with every breath, along with the trembling bundle of muscles in his core, feeding arteries that pulse just beneath his skin. Fragile mechanisms laid bare. 

For two tenths of a second, Omega worries that a single movement might disrupt the erratic combination of rhythms keeping Shadow alive. A recall of data from countless combat encounters puts a stop to that worry, however. 

“YOU ARE STRONGER THAN THIS," he mutters. 

Shadow stiffens. “You’re right.”

“STRONGER THAN THE MEMORY.” He adds quickly.

“Are you sure?” 

Every response Omega tries to calculate stops at the third word in. His language processor is woefully unprepared for the task. 

So he simply replies, “YES.” 

Shadow presses his forehead against his chest plating. 

“NEVER DOUBT MY ANALYSES.”

Shadow gives a strange combination of sounds, something between the classifications of a laugh and a gasp. 

“Thanks.” Shadow says. “Don’t tell Rouge.” 

“LIKEWISE.” 

He pulls against his grasp, and Omega lets him go. He watches as he wanders off to his room, and does not move until he is sure Shadow has fallen into the rhythm of sleep.

[pootimedes]

dude i had a dream that we got another portal game where wheatley comes crashing back down to earth and somehow both him and chell end up in another dysfunctional science facility run by an angry robot, who went mad after a lack of proper maintenance and now runs the facility almost as bad as wheatley ran aperture, that they have to escape. chell fends up finding a very damaged wheatley, barely alive in a room full full of the facility's reject cores. chell uploads wheatley's consciousness to the body of an unprogrammed core, and they set off. during the whole thing, wheatley keeps trying to make it very clear that he's sorry for what happened, and does everything in his power to help chell out.

in the boss fight with the big guy, we see that he has he has somewhat of a humanoid frame, connected to the ceiling by the back with a bunch of wires and circuitry, and is red with rust, from living isolated from the rest of the facility, simply because the task of tending to him was too dangerous of a job for anyone, and the very few staff still alive in the facility had no idea how to shut him down.

his attacks were mostly melee in the first to second wave, utilizing a giant claw hand at chell, which would either try to crush chell by slamming it down from above her, swinging it at her from the side, or try to grab her by the head to crush her.

he would only use one ranged attack in the first to second wave, which were homing missiles that you had to throw back at him. think undertale mad dummy but 3d (you don't get a portal gun so there are some different mechanics, not really "portal" is it then?)

the third and final wave would add electric shock type attacks, big guy weaponizing his own decaying body in a pitiful attempt to take chell down. also lazers. lots of lazers.

chell would do the usual 'throwing the bosses projectiles back at them', while wheatley messes with big guy's controls while he's out to try and weaken him, accidentally making him stronger after the second time big guy gets knocked out.

if you manage to survive the last wave and take him out, big guy explodes, and an ominous 60 second timer comes on the intercom, along the lines of "central core discone-(garbled)-truct initiated in 60.. 59.. 58.." giving you just enough time to grab wheatley before the timer ends, which gives you an option between two endings.

if you chose to use the time to grab wheatley before making a break for it, the counter will end only a few seconds after you make it to him, and you get a sick ass parkour sequence with the facility crumbling and burning behind you as you make a break for the emergency escape pods. once you make it to the end, you get a cutscene of wheatley and chell riding the escape pod to the surface, having a bit of a heart to heart moment with wheatley, him thanking chell for not being mad with him, even if chell doesn't talk. well, you get the option to, by pressing space, (getting you an achievement called "it can talk!?")a little callback to the beginning of portal 2. you reach the surface, getting you the "forgiveness" achievent, and the game ends. congratulations on your marrige, chell

if you choose to leave without him, you can hear him worriedly saying things along the lines of "what are you doing? where are going?" before realizing you're leaving him behind and starts panicking. as the door to the escape pod closes, you get an achievement called "coward's way out" as you hear a distant "don't leave me, DON'T LEAVE ME!" further guilting you for being a greedy achievement hunter, you monster. In the escape pod, you get a whole minute of of uninterrupted silence before arriving at the surface, earning you the "you know what you are? selfish." achievement, before ending the game.

there would also be a shadow achievement where you do absolutely nothing and wait for the self destruct counter to finish, killing the both of you.

ok, most of this wasn't in the dream, i just started getting ideas

(edit: i just had the idea that chell was in a similar kind of situation to ratman, where she was an employee at this facility, working in robotics when uh oh spaghettios all her coworkers are dead and she's stuck in hiding from the giant robot running the facility)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Ship //// Part 4

Part 1 • 2 • 3

Vera immediately becomes critical when the Captain and Lieutenant keep making their way to the meeting room that has no cameras, no recorders, and nothing to summon Vera with

“Uh, Vera why did you double lock the door like that?”

“No reason. Just checking that they work.”

“That’s not ‘no reason.’”

“Sorry, I messed up with my sayings again.”

“It’s fine, I mess it up all the time too.”

Vera was actually remote-controlling your communicator to silently alert Jule of this behavior

Jule acts immediately putting an EMP-immune drone smaller than a land-fly into the room

“--Captain I say we leave. Go to the enemy planet and try to find our secret base there. You’re right about this ship being unreliable.”

“But I wonder how can we convince the technician to come with?”

“Ugh! Who needs him?! And that (L/n) character too. I say we leave them to self-destruct with this virus-ridden ship.”

“We need the technician. He’s the only one with interplanetary know-how on top of understanding the inner workings of the escape pods we’d have to travel in.”

“Then let’s just knock him upside the head and leave that thing behind.”

“Lieutenant I admire your determination but I’m leaving no one behind to stay with this thing.”

The two continue to talk about how they plan on making a fire at the furthest part of the ship 

Something that could easily be fixed if the technician was near but they planned it so it’s on the other side of the ship 

And since he’s a priority person, they’d be evacuating him 

And if not him then you of course to lure him out 

“Hey Ver I think we should have you take a crack at your new bod.”

“Awesome! I’ll start booting it up now!”

Jule purposely doesn’t inform Vera of the whole conversation and plan

By now he knows just how intense Vera’s feelings are about those he cares about

Except he knows that Vera’s less concerned about restraint than he

So he’ll commence his own plan

Immediately running to you in one of the hobby rooms when Vera stops responding 

Knowing they planned to cut Vera to start the fire

When the alarm blares and Vera turns back on 

The Captain and Lieutenant are right there to tell them to prep the launch pods

“But Jule is more than capable of—”

“IT’S OUR CALL Veras!  Remember your programming!”

“....Yes Captain.”

He preps the pods for the location of an enemy-ruled planet 

Doing all the necessary protocols to filter everyone out safely 

Of course, Vera neglects to really inform you like the others

He knows that it’s best to have you in your own pod away from the stressed and hostile people cramming in

Which is why they’re not prepared when the lieutenant comes in harshly knocking whatever you were doing out of your hand to grab your wrists tightly

“OW! What are you—”

“STOP STRUGGLING! I’m saving your pathetic life.”

She does explain after knocking you around a bit before shoving you towards the captain’s pod

By the time Jule finds you they’ve tied you inside while beckoning the technician in

“I know you’ll think wrong of us for this but these people need you.”

“So IT’s OKAY TO ATTACK SOMEONE INNOCENT?!”

“Please Jule get in the pod. We can talk about ethics more when I’m not inclined to knock you out.”

Jule will step forward before stopping

The Captain goes to yell at him when the alarms stop

So does the smoke that had been permeating through the vents

“The issue of the fire has been neutralized.  The issue about an evil miscreant and their oh-so-powerful captain is underway.”

“V-ver?”

The voice of the ship was coming out of a beautifully crafted android

Glowing blue eyes and black hair flowing along their lean but strong shoulders

The body type is hard to place but from what you can tell it’s male and their stature is lean giving an elegant look to him in general

Their stance has the lieutenant attempting to punch them 

They dodge like they are dancing, grabbing her hand and twisting

“AAAAGH!”

Ver doesn’t let her mourn her wound because they’ve jump-kicked her into the back wall of the pod

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you.”

The Captain’s stunned shock allows you to stumble out and into Jule’s arms

The Captain tries to reach for you only to be met with a stabbing pain in his eyes

Jule shuts your eyes and buries you into his chest, blocking your view

The Captain screams like his lieutenant but it’s cut off by the pod doors closing and then ejecting themselves from the ship

Ver immediately turns to join the hug, Jule’s keeps you in

Only to shrink back when Jule’s glares at their bloodied fingers

They wipe it away before joining the hug

“I’m so happy it’s you guys I’m stuck with.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Me three!”

“...”

“..Vera…I don’t know if you know this but it’s really improper to touch there without consent.”

“Yeah Ver get your hands out our pants.”

“But I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“VER!!”

“Fine, maybe later?”

As much as Jule doesn’t want to encourage that behavior

He has to leave you alone for a while to make sure his plan plays out perfectly 

His message to the enemy sky-guard under an alias he made years ago as a baby-hacker

‘At 43:94 enemy escape pods will be arriving in your airspace. Ur welx’

Watching the enemy broadcast reports about enemy spaceships it apprehended and the officials that were facing a public torture session

When he returns he’s insistent you both open a bottle of champagne

“I really don’t think now is the time, Jule.”

“Oh but it is babe! I think we should party now that we’ve gotten rid of those neets.”

“Wait got rid of–?”

“(Y/n)! I’ve never seen you drink that before! Will you please?!! I’d also like to hold a microphone nearby while you do.”

Now you three will have free reign of the ship learning to live your life in the worlds beyond

Vera knows it doesn’t get any better than this 

They’ve also decided that they’d do anything to keep it this way 

More?

[the-kr8tor]

Alone

Ending two

Solo Mission<<<

You chose the panic room.

The conversation back at the medic bay flickers in your mind, there's a high chance that none of the escape pods would work especially in the ship's condition. So with quick thinking, you and Hobie head towards the other hallway.

Your legs threaten to give out from under you. Breathing staggered, the grotesque being’s pained groans fade behind you. But you and Hobie aren't taking any chances as you both run towards the left where the executive panic room sits waiting for you both.

Hobie's arms aches as he carries the large hand in his grasp. Its fingers are still wiggling, some even poke his chest like It's trying to get his attention.

Boots thump loudly against the floors while you close each shutter on the hallway which were designed to keep explosions away. But based on the sound of metal breaking under an intense force, he guesses that it's only a matter of time before the creature makes its way towards you. The image of you being devoured by the alien has him checking on you with every breath you let out. He has endured much, suffered more, but he won't survive if you don't. You need to live through his, even if it means his end.

You two turn a sharp corner, boots skidding before you both fix your balance without falling. He sees the large circular door with the name that he desperately wanted to see.

“Almost there, love! Keep runnin’!”

The animalistic trilling gets closer, a call that it's near. “Yuri!” It screams in its distorted ghostly voice. “Run!”

“Fuck!” The kaleidoscope of light flits back in his eyes, obscuring his vision for a moment before he slams into the metal door. Groaning, you help him back up on his feet, only to turn back around to aim at the on coming creature.

“Hobie, the scanner!” You yell while a headache blooms in between his eyes. Despite this, he makes his way towards the scanner.

Quickly working through each fingerprint, the thudding footsteps and metal creaking gets closer and closer with every error that pops up.

“Wanker!”

“You can do it, Hobie. You'll find it.” Your reassuring words fires him up even with his sweat dripping off his brow. Your eyes narrow at the empty hallway, trigger finger itching.

The panel beeps, green light flashing on the screen. As the doors open, the alien breaks through the last shutter, appearing behind it despite its skin all shredded up from its numerous injuries. “Run!” Its hands with hundreds of fingers point at you accusingly through the hole it broke through.

Before you could empty out a whole mag at its body. Hobie pulls you inside by your collar, immediately closing the door behind before the creature could get close to you.

As the vault-like door locks in place, Hobie embraces you on the cold floor, quickly taking off his helmet to hide his face in the crook of your neck. After a few seconds of catching up, you hug him back tightly. Warm hands enveloping him as he fiddles with your helmet, clicking it off your head.

The second your helmet falls on the ground, he peppers kisses on your face. His lips don't leave a single space of skin unkissed until you're laughing from under him.

Hobie leans away slightly, only to move back in for a kiss that leaves you more breathless than running from a homicidal monster. “You're alright.” He sighs against your lips, eyes tightly closed as he places his warm forehead against yours. His thumbs caress the corner of your eyes, all the while pecking each side of your cheeks. “We made it out, love.”

You kiss him just under his eyes, gathering the tears stuck in his lashes. “We made it. But we're not out yet, Hobie.”

He moves away, hands still on your face. Scanning the room, he finds rows upon rows of beds in one corner. And in the other sits a communal area of sorts with a couch, a full bookshelf, and a control panel that could reach out to potential rescue outside the ship with limited coverage around the ship. The vents are separated from the rest of the ship's ventilation, hence the creature couldn't come in without getting ripped to shreds by the numerous blades it has to pass through. Just as he thought, there's enough food and water that could keep the two of you alive for at least two years. But since it's just the two of you, it could last five years.

You stand up, eyes forlorn at the whole place. Your vision still warbles in the same kaleidoscope of light, as if the creature is right outside just lying in waiting. His hand holds your own, fingers weaving through yours, as he opens his arm for you to fall into.

“Someone will come through, I know it.” He whispers against the top of your head, pecking it once before sighing, hand rubbing up and down your arm as he holds you.

“I know, we made it this far. We'll get out.” Someday.

You try not to think about what lies outside the room, your friends bodies will continue to decay, the creature still lingering just outside. You're trapped.

Head laying on his shoulder, there's still embers of hope in you. That someone could find the ship and potentially rescue you, or with some luck, the creature's biological clock would run out before you and Hobie run out of food.

At least you're alive and together, right?

[yaut-jaknowit]

False Freedom

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3659

Summary: You're let to roam around the ship at your free will. Not like you could escape easily. Only to run into trouble.

Author Note: Any errors, let me know!

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving! As a gift to you guys, I'm gonna post two things today. Stay tuned!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

The plain metal door slid behind you and clicked with a lock. Most of the tightness in your chest that made it hard to breath washed away. It freed you to relax and slump against the forementioned door. You still couldn’t believe that We’ar-ow had allowed you to leave her quarters… by yourself. She had said it would be good for you or something like that. Go explore, be curious.

Yeah, you’ll surely be curious as you map out an escape route from her room and towards the ships. That was your plan A for escape. It might take time to figure out how to operate one of them. Thankfully, the tablet should help you that. Give you the basics on learning on how to fly an alien spaceship. You sighed heavily through your nose and pushed off of the door.

Without We’ar-ow marching in front of you, leading you to wherever she wanted, this new found freedom was nice. The unfortunate new mark carved into the top of your back would further ensure a single Yautja wouldn’t dare hurt you. Nervously, you glanced down at the tablet and silently reminded yourself. If trouble was to rise, We’ar-ow could be called with a single button. Nothing bad should happen though… right?

You rapidly shook your held before standing tall, shoulder squared and chin level. Who cares? If you didn’t start now, you’ll be stuck here for longer. An extra day, an extra hour, minute, it did not matter. Extra time you didn’t want to be for. Then, you finally started a path towards the elevator door.

One of the things We’ar-ow has given you is a code. A code to enter most places on the ship. Most, but not all. You hadn’t encouraged yourself to ask if that meant the bay for the ships.

In all honesty, We’ar-ow expects you to try and escape, as close to impossible that is. Nothing is impossible though. Aliens were thought to not exist at all but look where you were currently, in space, so far from home, from earth.

The number pad clicked at every touch before chiming a high-pitch beep. The elevator doors finally opened at your command. You entered it swiftly and pressed the needed button to go the floor destined. Afterwards, you mess about on the table to pull up the map system that showed the entire layout of the ship.

Once it came to stop and opened to reveal a mostly empty hall, you stepped out and gaze both ways. Only a few bodies filled the area, none that paid attention to you. Thankfully. From there you used the map to start an unsteady path to your right.

The mothership was exactly the same on either side. What differentiated between them was the placements of the sparring rooms and the cafeterias by the looks of it. There were probably smaller, less noticeable changes that didn’t matter. You did your best to remember where the emergency escape pods were for one of the halls that connected with this one. The pods were on the outer edge of the ship.

As for one of the hangars, those were closer to the belly of the ship. There seemed to be a huge cargo bay down there as well for supplies and whatnot. Just the extra stuff needed to survive in case of an emergency or such. These aliens surely know what they’re doing when it comes to this kind of thing. Space, beautiful but extremely dangerous.

Through the lowly trickle of people, you stayed off to the side, out of their way, and head bowed to follow the map. Thankfully, no one gave you trouble, either warded off by We’ar-ow’s scent on you or the sight at of her mark scaring your skin. Whatever it was, worked. They stayed away as you went on your marry way down this hall and onto the next.

The hairs at the base of your neck rose sharply. Every instinct that controlled your body reverted to a prey mindset as you paused mid-step. Only a few feet into this new hallway. The sounds of your heartbeat thundered in your ears as the only thing you could do was freeze. Freeze like a deer in headlights, watching their doom approach them.

Unlike that, you didn’t know what was following you. Who or what was watching you so closely, so deadly. It caused your skin to crawl and prickle.

Every instinct screamed at you to move or even press the button. To know that there was hope that someone on this alien ship was willing to protect you. Even if it was someone you would happily slash her throat and promptly run for your life.

Your bottom lip found its way to be worried on between dull teeth. Then, your hovering foot came down to complete a hesitant step. Despite your ancient instincts trying to drive you away from this place, you ignored it and kept going. If you turned tail to run away from whoever this was, you could only be seen more of the coward the Yautjas saw your kind as. You pushed through and continued this pathing down the infinite hallway.

All you wanted to do was map out the area for an escape.

From the weight of the unknown stare, you knew it wasn’t We’ar-ow. There couldn’t be a possible way for her to reach this level moments after you and get to that hall before you. Plus, that heat… Your skin crawled, knowing whoever it was wanted you dead.

Dwainet came to mind but it’s not only him that felt threatened by your presence. Other Yautjas have shown and expressed their dislike for you since you’ve arrived so long ago. You don’t think Dwainet would show himself near you after the beat down with We’ar-ow either. Not when she played with him like a skilled warrior and a child sparring. It was all a game to her.

.

Off to the side, you stopped to study the map a little more closely. A few shoot offs of other halls connected to this main hallway. A few shops lined this side, vendors selling various things from weapons to jewelry of sorts.

As the human you were, curiosity gripped your heart and tugged on it. Timidly in the near empty hall, you approached the lonely vendor that had a few weapons and armor in his section. Despite wishing he wouldn’t take notice of your form, his eyes darted as you grew closer. You cursed mentally and turned to leave. Death wasn’t on your list of plans today.

The male Yautja chirped, the translator staying silent behind your ear. With his head, he motioned for you to come back towards him. Instead, you stayed put, unsure if fleeing was an option, if he would give chase to hunt you down.

“Come hereth. I see the interest in your alien eyes, ooman,” he commanded, voice high, airy. Well shit. You held the tablet to your chest while your eyes scanned the objects set up on the tables. “You’re the Monarch’s pet, aren’t you?” Your knuckles turned a shade of white but you nodded.

This new Yautja placed a hand on the table and leaned over the weapons. The inside of your cheek started to bleed from how hard you were biting it to distract yourself, some. His warm breath fanned over your face, spilt tongue darting out to taste the air. “Pick something,” he stated and stood straight once more.

It took some willpower not to let shock morph over your features. Was this a trick of sorts to lie and say you stole something? No one would believe you, a pet, would have currency to buy things. You turned your head to look at him from the corner of your eye with suspicion.

He chuckled and put his hands on his hips, thumbs slipping into the waistband of his pants. “Ah, you are smarter than the average ooman. I give credit where it is due.” His alien smirk fell though as he peered straight at you. “Seriously though, pick something. Anything of the sort.”

His words are what caught your attention and the way he spoke carefully. This Yautja was offering for you to pick something but hadn’t said you could have it. Play this smart, don’t cause trouble.

On the table between the two of you, your eyes swiftly darted from item to item before landing on a small dagger. The smallest of them all and closest to fit more comfortably in your own hand.

Carefully, you pointed out the dagger. “That one.” You didn’t touch it or anything on the table, not playing into his hands. You hoped.

A grin spread across his face, upper mandibles both flaring. An action you could almost was a challenge or threat of sorts. Yet, you stayed where you stood without moving, a white-knuckle grip still held onto the tablet in your hands.

He once more rested a palm against the table and leaned in closer then before. “Ahhh, you are harder to trick than the average ooman. Glad to see it.” Then, strangely enough, he held out his hand towards you, a human gesture. “I am called Wourk. You may take the weapon as a prize. I give you the blade, free of charge.”

Once more, you looked at the newly named Wourk closely. His hand still hovered in the air, you decided to play it safe and not take it. “Why?” you questioned in all honesty. It would a loss to him. Why give up product for nothing in return? You did not trust this Yautja, not one bit.

Wourk snorted and leaned away from you. “Some secrets are meant to stay hidden. Take the blade. It is yours to weld,” he answered. You narrowed your eyes on him once more before finally forcefully uncurling one of your hands. Your knuckles painfully ached at how hard you had been squeezing the tablet, creaking from the movement.

Your eyes darted between your limb and himself, to ensure he wasn’t going to double cross you. The lukewarm metal touched against your fingertips. Wourk hadn’t moved and just watched with amusement.

Swiftly, you snatched back your hand with the dagger. Now further from him, you respectfully bowed your head. “Thank you,” you said politely before inspecting the craftmanship of it. With the limited knowledge, the metal reflected light off of it. “It’s beautiful.” The Yautja hummed, an upper mandible jerking upwards.

This entire time, he was just entertaining himself during the slow periods. You gazed back up at him with just a hint of a smile. Oh, you poor ooman.

“Run along, ooman.” Wourk leaned back on another tablet behind him and used a hand in a shooing motion. Your face turned sour but you did stalk away without giving him another word. Despite rarely being around other Yautjas besides Dwainet and now We’ar-ow, there was no kindness in their biology. Just straight to the point.

When you reentered the barely filled hallway, a shiver ran its course through your body. Goosebumps raised the hairs along your arms. Watchful, observant eyes pinned you down where you stood. You did your best to shake it off and slip the blade into your pocket, hoping it wouldn’t cut the fabric or yourself somehow.

With the tablet once more leading you through the halls, you meander your way. Just a helpless ooman, figuring their way on a ship alien to you.

A ooman that’s so weak, pathetic, just one flex of his muscles could snap their fragile neck. A ooman he stalked, watched, carefully in the halls of the mothership. The ooman could not sense him in any way, that he knew of. He was safe, using his cloak to keep from their sight. One day, he’ll extinguish the damned creature’s heart. Like the way it deserved to be as the weak link.

His prowess aided him as he stalked after it. Every step calculated to ensure there wasn’t a chance he could be seen. He watched as a vendor gave you a small, useless blade and sent you on your way. If he were to attack, like that could do anything damaging to him. No, he’ll have your head pulled from your body before the thought to use it could cross your mind.

There was nothing and no one that could stop him. A Yautja on the hunt with his prey before him… only he had to play this smart. He couldn’t have the murder coming back to him. The Monarch would deprive him of life he guessed from the way she defended it. A game this Yautja was willing to play. The hunt, always, always fun.

Taking turns to more populated areas of the ship, you fast-walked without drawing attention to yourself away from here. Anywhere safer than those eyes. The eyes that had yet to leave no matter what you did. No matter what turn, where you headed, they stalked your every move.

In all honestly, you had hit every section on this level just to escape. But it followed. Your heart pounded violently in your ears at each twist and turn. Without realizing it, you had begun running and now heading towards the elevator. The area wasn’t heavily populated, probably desolate at this point but you needed to get to the safety of We’ar-ow’s room. At least, hopefully, no one could reach you there. That you knew off, possibly.

Your hand slammed against the number pad to open the door in frantic feeling. Whatever was chasing kept pace, easily and calmly. The device screeched at the incorrect code, snapping you for a moment out of your thoughts. The code was shakily inputted. After the three time, it finally took it and opened up.

All it took was three seconds to react, get in, and smash a fist against the button to close. Your back was to the furthest wall as you waited for the doors to seal shut. The only thing you could do was watch and pray it doesn’t get in here before they shut.

Either it was toying with you or wasn’t as quick as you believed it to be, the doors were able to close fully. The tightness in your chest fell away as you  took a shaky step forward and pressed the needed button to We’ar-ow’s room.

With the eyes off of you, relief briefly flooded your system and allowed a moment to think and truly breathe. Air filled your lung completely for the first time within the hour. You settled against the wall next to the buttons for a moment. Long enough for the elevator to stop on the desired floor and open up to reveal the short, blank walkway to her door.

Hesitancy kept you stuck in the elevator as you just stared at the door. From one monster to another…

Something small, minute, in the belly of your stomach didn’t sit well with that thought. We’ar-ow hasn’t been outright cruel or abusive… besides the branding marring your skin. Everything else, it was all gifts or kind gestures. The tablet, the cushion, the clothing. Yeah, everything someone would do for their pet, but she hasn’t been cruel to you.

The doors in front of you started to close. In a panic, you rushed forward and slipped through before they shut. So close to the entrance of the lion’s den. You swallowed thickly, unsure how much more stress in one day you could handle.

Behind you, the elevator made a thud noise, terrifying you out of your mind. In an instant, you sprinted forward, abandoning the tablet on the ground. Your shoulder roughly met the door as you tried to run it over but it held steady. Frantic and terrified, you banged on the door, voice caught in your throat.

You fell forward but caught yourself barely for a massive hand to push you further into the room. Everything was a blur until your mind could finally catch up to see the scene before you.

We’ar-ow, in all of her mighty, snarling glory, stood defensively before you. Her long, lethal claws glinting in her quarter’s light as her fingers flexed, ready to tear into flesh and bone. A threatening, dangerous snarl ripped through her throat, daring, challenging anyone to take step forward. Nothing, no one did.

Her door closed, sealing the two of you safely in her place. From the overwhelming, mind breaking terror running through your veins, you fell to your knees and wrapped your arms around yourself. That didn’t help an ounce to calm yourself down.

Your breaths were ragged, tearing at your throat. Hot tears poured down your face as you stayed kneeled on the ground and stared blankly. In your mind, you were far too caught in the whirlwind to notice anything in the real world. Had you just escaped death from whatever stalked you? A broken whine came from your dry throat.

Something warm, rough engulfed your jaw and forced your head to tilt up. A few second passed. Your eyes finally focused on We’ar-ow kneeling down, completely on her knees and checking over you. Clicks sounded from her mandibles and throat but the buzzing in your head drowned out the translator. You had no clue what was being spoken, nor did you care. The droning noise consumed everything. Nothing made sense right now.

One second you were on the floor. The next, you were being carried swiftly somewhere. We’ar-ow set you down on a cool ledge in what looked to be the bathroom. All you did was make the smallest noise of confusion while staring blankly at the light floors of the bathroom.

Freezing water splashed against your face, tearing you from your thoughts. You gasped harshly and squirmed to get off of the counter, but strong, sturdy arms held you in place. They were pinned on either side of you and kept you trapped.

“Look at me.”

Harsh words were snapped with trickles of what could believed as worry. Your head jerked up, eyes darting to find orange blazing orbs staring into your soul. There was something about that just almost soothed your soul instantly. Instead, you just stopped moving.

“Good, good pet,” she cooed and raised a hand to pet the top your head only to grab the strands. Her hand pulled slightly back to expose the column of your throat to her. “What happened?” Her voice was still softer, even gentler than before as she questioned you.

At the moment, all you could do was give a pathetic, broken cry that barely passed the lump in your throat. We’ar-ow leaned in closer to rest her close mandibles against where your neck and shoulder meet. At first, you tensed up and relaxed, her hand the only thing keeping you sitting up. “Who hurt you?” she tried again, staying soft and inviting. “Tell me who hurt you, my pet.”

A purr began to rumble deep in her chest. It was a sound you hadn’t heard before from the pink Yautja. Dwainet… he’s done it before, so many times before for you. This was different, somehow, someway.

You cleared your throat the best to get rid of the majority of the lump to speak. “I-I-“ your voice cracked, dry from all the running. “Don’t kn-ow.” We’ar-ow continued her purring as she pulled back enough to fill a hand with water. She brought it up to your lips. Too desperate to wash away the scratches in your throat, you gulped it down. The Yautja did this two more times for you.

“What happened?” Now, We’ar-ow was look straight into your eyes, no longer purring. Nervous from the eye contact, your gaze darts around the bathroom. She wasn’t going to let that go. Instead, she grasped your chin once more and forced you to look at me. In her eyes, she wanted to know the truth of how you ended up as a terrified, trembling mess at her door.

Both of your hands played mindlessly with the helm of the shirt she gave you. Then, you explained from the moment you stepped out into the hall and all the way back to her room. The entire time, she didn’t let her or your eyes leave as much as that made you anxious.

Once the last word left your lips, We’ar-ow stood in silence. The cog wheels in her head spun.

Out of nowhere, We’ar-ow scooped you from the counter and held you bridal style. The strength of her body easily taking you from the bathroom to… her bed? The low, half above ground mattress of sorts was neatly put together with furs and blankets. Four pillows lined the head of the bed. The Yautja knelt down to pull at the covers before slipping you underneath them.

The terror and complete puzzlement that controlled your body at that moment held you in place. What was she doing?! We’ar-ow pulled the covers over you, up to your chest and stood back up. “Stay. I will investigate,” she said before turning to take her leave.

Deep down, from the pits of your mind, you wanted nothing more to reach out and stop her. The words ‘wait’ on your tongue. But she was out the door before you could gather the courage to do so.

Her bedroom door closed and made a clicking noise. A lock? But… why? Why did she not take you to your room? Why her room? You gulped and ran a hand through the strands of your messed up hair. All of that running and freaking out did nothing for your hair.

A shaky breath filled the air as you look over the room. Back on her wall of trophies, those human skulls stared at you with their empty eye sockets. One day, will she turn you into that?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

[midsummer-semantics]

Schoolyard Crush

[This is originally posted to twt as threads, but I'm posting the parts here as a full bit and will update as it updates]

Preschool teacher Steve/Single Dad Eddie

Threads: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[Part 1]

Steve knows he's not allowed to play favorites. All of his kids are amazing (except Daniel, that kid is a rabid chipmunk in a human suit). But most of them are fantastic.

Minnie, though. She's probably his favorite. Big eyes and thousand-watt smile every time Steve comes in the building. He's only been at the job a few months, but every day reminds him why he took the job in the first place. Especially with kids like Minnie, who always grabs "Mr. Steve's" hand and drags him over to do puzzles or read one of the Dr. Seuss books in the little corner library.

As Mother's Day approaches, the other teachers in his pod get the kids set up to make hand-flower bouquets for their mother-figures. Some do it for their grandmother, others for older siblings, some do two for both mom's.

Minnie tugs on Steve's pant leg while he's helping Braden with his hand prints.

"What's up, Minnie-moo?"

"How do I spell 'daddy'?" she asks, a D and A already written on her vase. She's always been so smart.

Steve helps her spell it out, not even questioning it.

He doesn't know a lot about her home life, but maybe she has a dad she considers a mom as well. Kids are always figuring things out as much as their limited experiences can help them understand.

He's not entirely incorrect. At some point, Minnie wants to show off her dad, grabbing Steve by the hand and taking him over to the wall of family photos in the room that he hasn't actually looked at too closely before.

"That's my daddy!" Minnie says excitedly, pointing to a picture of a curly-haired blast-from-the-past smiling at the camera, Minnie clutched in his arms. Steve's not sure how he didn't put two and two together before. Minnie's hair is the same wild curly brown, her eyes too big in an adorable doll-like way, and her clothes a mix of baby band t-shirts and tutus.

"That's your dad?" he asks to clarify.

"Yep!" Minnie says proudly before walking away, leaving Steve staring at the smiling face of his high school crush like it's not the revelation it really is.

Eddie Munson, notorious metalhead shit-stirrer — who Steve was pretty sure was as gay as he is — is the father of his favorite kid. Somehow, that figures. Steve's always had poor judgement.

It's not until a couple of days later that Steve gets the reality check.

It's recess, Minnie running around the playground with her friends when Eddie shows up, in the flesh. He doesn't stop Steve right away, leaning against the gate to watch his daughter screech and giggle with her friends. He looks good, because of course he does, he always has. But it's been 8 years since Steve's seen him and he's a man now, not the awkward, table-top-rant nerd he was in high school.

Steve takes a chance.

"Mr. Munson," he greets with faux happiness, his heart rabbiting in his chest. He keeps his body turned toward the playground, as per protocol, but mostly so he doesn't have to look in Eddie's stupidly beautiful eyes. He wants to look, but he fights it.

It doesn't matter, though, because as soon as Eddie mutters a shocked but quiet, "Steve?" he knows he's done for.

[Part 2]

Before Steve can respond, Minnie comes running up to the gate screeching excitedly.

“Daddy! Daddy! This is Mr. Steve!”

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes soften so quickly at the presence of his daughter that it makes Steve’s teeth ache.

“I know, sweetie,” Eddie says, turning those same soft eyes on Steve now. “I’ve known Mr. Steve a very long time.”

Minnie’s head tilts like a puppy and Steve has the sudden urge to squeeze her until she pops. “What? But Mr. Steve is new here. And you’re too old for him to be your teacher.”

Steve slaps a hand over his mouth to cut off the cackle that nearly escapes. Yep, that’s Eddie’s kid alright.

Eddie, meanwhile, has gone ruby in the face, sputtering at his daughter’s lack of a social filter.

Steve takes pity on him, though he’s still snickering a little as he swings Minnie up into his arms. She giggles delightedly and boops Steve on the nose.

“I wasn’t your daddy’s teacher, Minnie-moo. I was his classmate. Kind of like how you have classmates here,” he explains.

Minnie’s eyes go wide at that. “Were you best friends like me and Grace?!”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to blush. He looks at Eddie for help, finding his own confusion about how to answer her reflected back at him.

“Uh, not exactly,” Steve starts. “But maybe… we could be?”

The last part is said directly to Eddie, who looks a little shocked at the question.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.” Eddie nods, curls bouncing. “Best friends who… maybe get dinner together? Friday?”

Steve can feel his blush deepen. He hasn’t seen heads or tails of Eddie in 8 years and the man is just… asking him out on a date? While Steve’s holding his child? How does Eddie even know Steve might be into that?

Then, Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s work polo, and Steve puts it together. Eddie’s eying the rainbow pin there. Steve’s suddenly grateful for his boss that lets him wear it. The kids just think it’s pretty, but it’s really coming in handy right now.

“Yeah, Friday,” Steve agrees.

“Seven?”

“Seven is perfect.”

Suddenly, Minnie makes an indignant noise, a pout on her lips. “But I’ll be with Grampa on Friday.”

‘Grampa’ must be the older gentleman that normally picks Minnie up, Steve supposes.

“That’s the idea, kiddo. Time to go,” Eddie says, shooting a subtle wink Steve’s way.

Steve gets her passed off to the front office girl, still standing near the gate as Eddie and Minnie take their leave. Eddie stops by the gate once more, Minnie’s head resting on his shoulder while she fiddles with a band pin on his jacket, still looking put out.

“Seven on Friday.”

“Seven on Friday,” Steve confirms. Then, much lower: “You can tell me how you became a daddy.”

Eddie’s smile turns a little wicked, a flash of high-school Eddie rushing to the front of Steve’s mind.

“Well, Mr. Steve, if we’re 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 friends, I can show you as well.”

Steve inhales sharply, listening to Eddie’s responding cackle as he starts walking away.

Friday it is.

[Part 3]

Steve's not sure he's ever been so nervous for a date before. Which is ridiculous because he knows Eddie. He's known Eddie since he was 15. Surely that has to count for something? But no, the moment he sees Eddie at the table, everything Steve knows leaves his brain in a rush.

Dinner is nice. Great food, better company, but the biggest question is still harping on him.

"Go ahead," Eddie prompts after a time, "Ask."

Steve blushes, knowing he's been clocked. "Sure, yeah. Um... so... Minnie."

Eddie snorts, clearing his throat with a drink of his wine, like he's lubricating his throat for the answer.

Okay, bad thought.

DOWN BOY.

"Minnie is mine, in case you're wondering."

Steve blinks, taken aback.

"Yeah, clearly. Same—" he gestures to Eddie, "everything."

Eddie grins, nodding. "Yeah, clearly. Her other dad is..." Eddie pauses, visibly recalibrating several explanations. "His IUD failed," he settles on. "We weren't dating, just casual, but he got pregnant anyway. And I'm the idiot who didn't wrap it before I tapped it."

Steve waits on baited breath, knowing there's more.

"He wanted to... terminate," Eddie continues. "Even made a couple of appointments, but never went through with them. He never wanted kids and I respected that! It's not my body, ya know? But I think part of me always hoped. And then he made me a deal: he would go through with the pregnancy in exchange for relinquishing all parental rights. No child support, no contact, total single parent life."

Eddie shrugs, like that's just the way the cookie crumbles and not like it was a drastic life decision.

"And I got Minnie out of it," he says, pride clear in his voice. Steve melts, seeing the obvious love in Eddie's voice. "And I wouldn't change a thing about it."

Steve nods, not getting it personally, but empathetic nonetheless. "She's a fantastic person. You've done an amazing job raising her," he says, reaching across to take Eddie's hand. It feels over-familiar, but Eddie doesn't pull away, just turns his hand to interlace their fingers together.

"And you've taught her so much since you started. Every day she comes home and it's 'Mr. Steve' this and

'Mr. Steve' that. I swear, I don't know how I didn't put it together sooner." Steve chuckles despite the way his face heats at the praise. He takes another drink, just to steel himself before he says, "Well, now you've told me how you became a daddy... Still up to show me?"

[Part 4]

They barely make it back to Steve's fully clothed. Eddie had offered up his place, but Steve didn't want the first time he's in Eddie and Minnie's house to be marked by sex they're apparently both eager to engage in.

Plus he really hopes this isn't the only time this will happen, or be the only date they go on, so he can wait to see the more domestic parts of Eddie's life until they have the "what are we?" talk.

Steve nearly leaves his cardigan in the Uber after it was yanked off by Eddie who apparently has no qualms about exhibitionism (Steve leaves a hefty tip in apology), but they managed to stumble into his apartment still mostly in-tact.

Eddie backs him against the front door the moment they're inside, his lips planted against Steve's throat.

"Tell me what you want, sweet boy," Eddie murmurs, seemingly careful not to leave any damning marks on him. Steve would let him if he knew it wouldn't subject him to a world of shit at work on Monday. His coworkers are nosey, and the kids are likely to ask how he got a bruise on his neck without realizing what it is.

"I already told you what I wanted," Steve groans, his hands fisted in Eddie's shirt, contemplating the merits of ripping it off entirely.

Eddie chuckles, a dark thing, and pulls back to look at Steve with dangerous clarity. His thigh is wedged between Steve's, right up against his rapidly growing erection, and Steve's practically vibrating with need.

"Remind me again what that was, sweetheart," Eddie prompts, grinding his hips forward and his thigh up, knocking a shaky moan from Steve's panting lips.

"Ah! Want- want you to show me—" he chokes out, rutting down against Eddie's leg, cursing the layers between them.

"Gonna have to be more specific," Eddie teases, even though he's already working on the buttons of Steve's shirt.

Steve's brain is already fuzzy, rutting mindlessly against Eddie's thigh while Eddie works his shirt open enough to attach his lips to his collarbone. There he finally sucks a mark in the safe zone, the first of many, Steve hopes.

“I w-want you to show me how you became a daddy,” Steve stutters out, fully yanking on Eddie’s shirt at this point. He needs him naked and inside him yesterday.

“Good boy.”

It’s a flurry of rushed movements after that. Clothes go flying, Steve trips on his way to the bedroom like he doesn’t know where he’s going, and Eddie’s laugh lights him up inside.

Eddie pins him to the bed, staring down with stars in his eyes.

“You want me to be your daddy, baby?” he asks, running his hands up Steve’s sides in a way that’s too ticklish for the words he’s saying. “Fuck you raw and keep you full ‘til it takes?”

Steve whimpers, reaching for Eddie’s arms to tug him down.

“Yes, daddy. Please,” Steve pants. Eddie’s cock brushes against his own every time Steve’s hips jump, needing to feel him. “Want it. Want your baby. Give your daughter a sibling.”

Eddie groans and captures his mouth in a filthy kiss before reaching for the lube.

Steve’s mind — and mouth — run through all kinds of scenarios while Eddie opens him up. If only he could get pregnant. Steve’s always wanted kids, a big family, a partner to love and kids to spoil. Maybe 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 could do that for him. It’s way too soon, but —

“Fuck, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦,” Eddie moans, sucking another mark into the crease where’s Steves hip meets his thigh, three-fingers deep already. “You gotta shut up before I tie you down and keep you forever.”

“Want it, want it,” Steve repeats, past the point of caring that he’s a pathetic begging mess. “Please, daddy. Give it to me!”

And he does. Eddie’s careful when he finally presses in, but Steve’s having none of it. He wants this fast and dirty. They can make love later. He needs Eddie to breed him over and over until nature and the universe rewrites itself.

Eddie’s hammering at his insides, one hand jerking Steve off, the other holding himself up as he sucks another mark right over Steve’s heart. 

"𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺!" is all the warning Steve gets out before he’s cumming hard, back bowing and blood boiling.

“Steve, baby, 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬!" Eddie grunts, finding his own end deep inside Steve.

It won’t take, but Steve can pretend it does. He can hold Eddie close like they’ve been doing this all their life and will keep doing it forever.

“God, I hope so, baby,” Eddie breathes against his neck.

Oops, apparently Steve was thinking out loud again.

“Me too, daddy,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie snorts and kisses the side of his sweaty throat. He leaves his face buried there while they attempt to come back down, just breathing together.

After a moment, Eddie mumbles, almost too quietly for Steve’s ears to pick up: “How many dates do I have to take you on until we can tell Minnie?”

Steve’s heart stops and restarts. Eddie wants to do that? Roleplaying was one thing, but he actually wants his daughter to know they’re… what? Dating? Officially together? Trying to get pregnant even though that’s not going to work?

Okay, maybe not the last part. She’s only 4. 

“Um,” Steve hesitates, swallowing around a dry lump. “It’s your call, Eddie. You already know I love her.”

Eddie nods against his shoulder and tucks in tighter against him.

They don’t have to figure it out yet. They have time.

[Part 5]

Steve’s pretty sure he has a perpetual blush every time he sees Minnie now. Never mind that his coworkers seem to know exactly how close he is with her dad just by looking at him. It’s like he has “Daddy’s Boy” written across his forehead now.

The Friday before Father’s day, Steve and his co-teachers are helping the children make hand-print awards that say things like “# 1 dad” or “# 1 papa”.

“Mr. Steve,” Minnie says from across the little table that he and several of her classmates are sitting around.

It takes all of his self control not to keep her plastered to his side at all times. Eddie desperately wants to tell her about them, but Steve’s worried about confusing her.

He’s also worried that Eddie will change his mind, but he’s terrified to say that out loud, like it’ll manifest immediately if he gives it breath. The fact Eddie is so adamant means the world to him, but his own history with flighty parents means he doesn’t want to risk being that in Minnie’s life. She means as much to him as Eddie does, possibly more because she’s such an angel and he would be lucky to be there for her, however Eddie wants him to be.

So when she says his name in her little voice, his heart flutters and his focus is 100% on her -- a dangerous task when he has Daniel next to him with paint all over his hands.

“Yes, Minnie-moo?” Steve asks, the nickname still making her giggle.

“How do you spell rockstar?” she asks. She has her pencil poised and ready to let him list off the letters. Steve does, doing his best to not let Daniel run amok with gold fingers while helping Minnie create a # 1 Rockstar award for her dad.

“Thank you!” Minnie says excitedly before grabbing her art and running over to Robin. Steve just knows Eddie’s going to cry when he sees it. Hell, Steve can feel the burning of tears behind his own eyes as he thinks about the two of them. They’re a perfect family, and the fact that Eddie wants him to be part of that, even so soon, is something Steve still can’t wrap his head around.

Instead, he tries to refocus on helping the other kids who are making gifts for their parents, and probably doing a terrible job at pretending he’s not always half-watching Minnie.

At the end of the day, while Steve’s chasing the kids around during recess, a gorgeous swath of dark curls catches his eye. He spins toward the gate, spotting Eddie among the other eager parents waiting for their children.

“Happy Father’s day,” Steve says when he approaches the gate, once again keeping his attention mostly on the children playing.

“Thank you again, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, sending him a wink.

Again, meaning after Steve texted him first thing that morning. Steve feels his entire face heat up because what he actually told him that morning was “happy father’s day daddy.”

“Minnie has a gift for you,” he deflects.

“I’ll grab it!” Robin pipes up, nearly scaring the shit out of Steve in the process.

“Oh! Uh… thank you, Ms. Robin,” Steve stammers, before dropping low to scoop a giggly Minnie into his arms. “You ready to give your daddy a happy father’s day?”

“We made cards!” she tells him, proud as anything.

“Yeah?” Eddie chuckles. “Is it gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,” she states, suddenly very serious. Steve and Eddie both glance at each other, nervous smiles on their faces.

As Robin reappears from the classroom, arms held behind her back, Minnie wiggles in Steve’s arms. “Ms. Robin, I can give them to them, right?”

“Of course you can, Minnie,” Robin replies with a megawatt smile.

“Mr. Steve, can you put me down please?”

Steve blinks a few times, thoroughly confused. “Oh! Sure, of course, Miss Minnie.”

He sets her on the ground, looking over to find the overly fond look on Eddie’s face at the entire interaction.

“Thank you,” Minnie chimes, smoothing her My Little Pony dress out immediately.

“You can walk her out, dingus,” Robin mutters as Minnie walks toward the door to the office.

“But--” he starts, cut off by his boss who opens the door and waves him inside. Steve hesitates only for a moment before chasing after Minnie, scooping her back into his arms before carrying her out to the parking lot. Eddie has moved toward the front door, already waiting for them both with open arms. Steve just steps into them, melting immediately into a group hug with two of his favorite people.

“I missed you both so much,” Eddie coos, planting a smacking kiss to Minnie’s cheek while surreptitiously squeezing Steve’s hip. 

Minnie kisses him back before turning dangerously in Steve’s grasp to call out: “Ms. Robin! My awards!”

“Of course, Minnie, darling,” Robin says with over-inflated grandeur, bowing and then holding several pieces of paper between the bars. Steve shuffles them close enough for Minnie to grab, confused as to why there’s more than one.

“Here,” Minnie says, immediately holding them out for Eddie to take without explanation. Eddie’s eyebrows raise as he accepts them, turning them over to see.

The first is the one Steve helped her with, her hand the centerpiece of an award with # 1 Rockstar written on a would-be plaque.

“Oh, Minnie,” Eddie whispers, tears gathering in his eyes. Steve wants to gather him back up in his arms, but refrains in public.

“There’s more,” Minnie states proudly, and Steve watches Eddie shuffle the top award to the back.

The second says “# 1 grampa” spelled exactly as she pronounces it. Steve’s eyes burn and he’s not able to wipe away the tear that escapes since he has his arms full of the thoughtful 4-year-old.

“It’s for Grampa Wayne,” she explains, like Eddie might be confused.

Eddie sniffles, pressing the award stack to his chest as he says, “He’s gonna love it, sweet pea.”

Minnie looks proud, which makes Steve feel proud too, even if he knows Robin helped her with it. He’s so proud of Minnie for being the amazing little girl she is, but also so proud of Eddie for being the incredible father that she needs.

Eddie moves in to wrap them both back in a hug when Minnie cries: “Wait there’s one more!”

“Oh! Of course, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, his voice a little strained despite the breathtaking smile on his face.

He shuffles the pages once more, freezing when the last one is revealed. 

Steve only helped with the first one; he had no idea she made three of them.

He stands there with Minnie in his arms, watching Eddie’s eyebrows draw together and then up, the tears in his eyes pooling even more. It’s all incredibly worrying because Steve’s never seen Eddie cry this much, and now he’s terrified about what the final one says.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks after a moment, glancing at Robin for a second, who looks on the verge of tears herself despite the smile on her face.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, and then turns the pages over for Steve to see.

There, on the would-be plaque under Minnie’s tiny hand print, says “#1 Steve.”

Steve gasps, eyes raking over the scribbly handwriting again and again.

“Oh no,” Minnie mumbles, her smile falling and big brown eyes tearing up, “It makes you sad.”

Steve chuckles around a sob and holds Minnie tighter, burying his face in her familiar curly hair. “No, baby girl. I’m so happy.”

“Happy tears?” she asks when he pulls back.

“Very happy tears. My number one Minnie,” he replies. Her face lights up once more as she throws her arms around Steve’s neck and attempts to squeeze the life out of him.

Steve looks to Eddie, making sure everything about this is okay. The man looks elated, tears flowing freely. Steve almost forgets they’re standing in the parking lot of his job.

“Now?” Eddie mouths. Steve, blinking back more tears, nods definitively. “Hey Minnie-moo,” Eddie says, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair to get her attention. “What do you think of Mr. Steve being around outside of school? Like, as daddy’s boyfriend?”

[naoristerling]

Yeosang fic rec

Entropy (k.ys) | 21.3k @in-san-ity

Hacker yeo X reader mafia

things never went according to plan; career wise, family wise, relationship wise and especially not when you were suddenly saddled with an infant to raise but you learned to roll with the punches. except the next challenge you were about to face wasn't a punch, it was a machine gun.

Fated

Alma gêmea

Siren | 27,8k @sorryimananti-romantic

yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.

Freaks || Kang Yeosang | 3,4k @mingigoo

after being friends for ten years, your triad friendship with Yeosang and Wooyoung is falling apart, all because of a simple game—spin the bottle.

Cosmos | 18k @pirateprincessblog

centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then?

ʀᴜᴘᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | 3k @the-midnight-blooms

Dreams soulmate au

Other members

San

destiny. | 25k @tainsan

waking up in the past is a disorienting experience. what’s even worse is it seems like you’re the only person in the world who is experiencing it. so when all of a sudden, a distressed man shows up claiming he has also woken up in the past. you realise he may be the key to your way home, yet he also just so happens to be a member from your favourite kpop group, ateez.

Champagne Problems | ? @mingigoo

after finding out your dad set you up in an arranged marriage that you wanted no part of, the only thing you could think of is claiming you already had a lover. To prove it, you kissed a complete stranger in front of him at your engagement party—a stranger you knew your dad wouldn’t approve of.

blushing red. | 11k @atozfic

how did choi san go from wanting to protect you like a big brother to wanting to ruin you with his own two hands? ( part of the rainbow riots anthology series. )

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

His favourite | 12k @k-hotchoisan

Seongwa

Bodyguard | 37,8k @baekhvuns

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

rewrite the stars | 24k @baekhyun-ah

in which you runway to escape an alliance accompanied by an unknown man named park seonghwa.

Arrow in the dark | 65k

Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.

Playing with fire | 200+k @ateezmakemeweep

Age gap

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge.

overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet.

you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.

that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year.

but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of.

Hongjoong

needle to the heart | 7k @pirateprincessblog

wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man.

look after you || k.hj (m.) | 10k @mingigoo

after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

a lonely artist finds himself in need of some human contact, so he joins a dating app but with a very specific request: he doesn’t want a relationship, he wants the experience of one. when someone contacts him, interested and willing to aid him in his search for artistic inspiration, the rules quickly become simple: no real names, no personal details, no feelings. so what the hell is kim hongjoong supposed to do when he catches himself daydreaming about their future together?- or, can you fall in love with a stranger?

Your Gentle Hands (They Feel Like Home To Me). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part I ] | 31k @yourlocaljonghoe

meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

New World | 27k @sorryimananti-romantic

you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D

what lies beneath | k.hj | 13k @noramoons

there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

The secret garden | 13k @yoonguurt

Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts | 14k @edenesth

Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

Lust is in the Air | 6.5k ❤️‍🔥 @bananayuyu

Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

One-shot I ?k ❤️‍🔥 @sugawhaaa

Eita que ele tá bravo

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | ok @holybibly

You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life.

[kairiscorner]

(this is my first time writing for earth-42 miles, so please correct me if i get him wrong, ty !)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

((also i'll be distinguishing miles 42 from miles 1610 through his second name, gonzalo, PLEASE CORRECT ME IF IT'S TOO WEIRD/INCORRECT IN THE FIRST PLACE TY... + ART IN THE PIC IS NOT MINE, I JUST EDITED IT, CTTO.))

miles-42 and miles-1610 x reader (twin au <33)

you had known the morales boys your entire life, they were sweet and caring, though only one of them was vocal about it; the other made it hard for you to tell if he cared or just waited for you to shut up and leave him alone. either way, both loved you just as much as you loved them, maybe even a bit more than you believed.

the two were partners in crime, whatever one did, they were sure to have the other's back. be it escaping home for the night to hang out with you, graffitiing some public place behind their dad's back, sneaking into their uncle aaron's place to hang out--they always had each other to get themselves out of trouble.

the two shared everything, as well. in common sibling, and of course, twin, fashion, their shared clothes, a room, a family--and of course, lives together. they were like two peas in a pod, quite literally; they'd share each other's joys, pain, anger, sadness... it was like a twin sense they had, an instinct that everything the one had, the other had to have, too.

but some things just weren't supposed to be shared, and even for the two close brothers, they knew that sentiment very well. there were days when the twins would hide things from each other, some feelings of jealousy, anger, or even... kind of just insecurity about not having what the other has--it hurts them sometimes that they know they can't share everything they have with each other.

even you.

they knew you since they were kids, teased you a whole lot, but protected you when you needed them. they were your best friends of all, even if other friends left you or you left them, they were the ones who stuck by your side the most, who you knew best. they were the real ones, and they loved you a whole lot; you were practically part of their family, as per what rio and jeff told you.

but even if you three were friends your whole lives, the two felt... different about it. as if they thought 'friends' was an incorrect label for what they wanted to be with you. they were big dreamers, both of them were–but the biggest dream of all, for both of them, was to make you theirs. and they don't mean to share you, they mean you pick either of them, be it gonzalo or miles.

gonzalo is subtle about dropping hints on how much he likes you, he only gives you a small sliver, a small taste of how much he really feels about you. he keeps you company when you're lonely, and he doesn't chat up a storm as much as his twin; in fact, you barely notice he's there, but somehow, you feel comfortable and safe around, especially when you finally notice him there.

you feel bad that he sometimes goes unnoticed to you when he hangs around you, but he doesn't mind–he can want you attention, it's a big honor for him to have it all to himself, but he wants to earn your attention, not force it out of you.

unlike miles, gonzalo is more of a listener, like a really intent listener. miles is great to talk to, it's a two-way street, you talk and listen, he talks and listens; but gonzalo always seems to listen, just mainly listening to you is the best he can do.

he didn't really feel like he was the best person to go to for advice, he'd rather listen to your problems and help you solve it on your own. he's unsure of how to solve a lot of problems on his own, so helping other people solve theirs? yeah, he worries a whole lot about what he says, even if he doesn't show it.

he cares about you so much, and he knows how capable you are, he tends to worry less in general because he trusts you so much. but if you really needed him, oh goodness, boy does not hold back on helping you, defending you, even.

he appears scary to a lot of people, and he uses that to his advantage. one time, you needed him to pretend to be your boyfriend for a couple of days, just to shake off some creeps who can't take the hint that you weren't interested. it got to the point where, when miles wasn't around, gonzalo confronted those guys and, nonchalantly, threw their lunch in their faces.

he did not flinch at all, and, without hesitation, he took your hand and ran away with you out of the cafeteria. when you asked him where he was taking you, he just said he'd take you far away from them, and even if they'd follow you, he'd beat their asses for real. like hell he'd let anything happen to you, let anyone else think they can have you.

"i held back because i'm a nice guy, like you say. and because i'm nice, i won't beat the crap out of them, yet. but they gotta understand... they can never be with you the way we're together."

you thought you knew what gonzalo meant to say, you thought he meant it in the nicest, friendliest way possible--and he sort of did, but he meant that... no one else can have what he wants with you; this romance with you that he's pictured in his head over and over again, but is too afraid to tell you and own up to his feelings.

he's scared he'll scare you away and lose you.

unlike miles, who always seems to share a laugh with you. miles is sometimes mistaken as your boyfriend, what with your friends and your parents always seeing you two together. you both loved art and music, hung out together several times, even without gonzalo, to share the pieces you two made, listen to music together, maybe graffiti a few walls here and there without his dad knowing; it was bliss, being with miles.

miles made you feel like the world was your oyster, he never restricted you to anything because he knew what it was like to be restricted from a lot of things.

unlike gonzalo, miles talks to you while he listens. he offers you advice, tries to solve your problems for you. and though you really appreciate his help, you somehow feel like he makes it his duty to take up your burdens and make them his own. miles has always been that way, selfless and people-loving, but it hurt you a lot to know that miles can't even help himself first a lot of the time.

he keeps telling you he's okay, he's not at all in any trouble, and even if he looks okay, you knew for a fact those were lies. miles wasn't the best liar, he was kind of compulsively lying, but the only lies he ever told you and everyone else he knew and cared about were that he was okay.

you really wanted to help him, but miles is stubborn; he insists he doesn't need help, he's "okay! what about you?" that's all he ever retorts with. as much as you loved miles, there were just times when you couldn't help him, not because you weren't just sure where to start, but he really closed himself off a lot of the time.

but, he's trying. he expresses himself through his art, and slowly, all his feelings unravel when you ask him about it. he could go on for hours on end about how much he put his feelings, his thoughts, his ideals into his work; how much love he imbued in every single bit of it.

one time, he made you a portrait; he was doing it subconsciously, maybe he did out of longing for you because he made it when you and your family were on vacation. he didn't realize it was you until gonzalo pointed it out, and slowly, he came to draw you, illustrate you, more and more, with and without him realizing that, in all his works... you're always the constant.

gonzalo encouraged him to hand it to you when you got back, but he was scared; what if you found it weird? what if you found it creepy? what if it was actually disproportionate to how you really looked? would you even recognize it was you?

but despite his overwhelming thoughts, he decided that he'd find out the answers when you gave it to him. and thus, he presented it to you the day you came home.

he hesitated, of course, he was nervous--fumbling over his words and laughing awkwardly to himself as you looked at the portrait.

"i know, i know, it's... kinda weird, no? like, out of the blue, you just came to mind. and i guess my hands just had minds of their own, it seems. ha, ah, um, well... hah, do you like it? is it... any good, or...?"

when you told him, without a second thought, that you loved it; he was so relieved. his confidence came back and he showed you more of what he made. though he was a little embarrassed because he thought some parts were off, some parts didn't capture the right essence of you--all that mattered to him was that you were happy, you liked what he made you.

but he could never tell you why you came to mind those days, why you were all he could think of that he drew you over and over and over again. when he listened to his favorite songs, only you came up to mind.

he's scared that if he tells you, he loses you.

the twins talked about how they felt about you to each other, and they came to a joint conclusion: they both loved you. well, that was okay, sort of... not that they'd stop being brothers if you liked either one of them.

"you know i'm not gonna lose to you though, right? i like them a whole lot, and... i care about them."

"hah, what makes you think i don't feel that way about them, too? you watch your back, brother, they'll be mine in no time."

guess it's double the trouble for you, with both morales boys pursuing you and your love.

a/n: yes i was inspired by the scene in the movie, you got me <33

[niobiumao3]

Havoc Marauder Interior

Someone made a post about this a while ago but apparently they de-activated so it is possibly lost to the mists of time. Here is what I put together for myself as a writing reference. Image heavy, meta heavy.

Last edit: 2024/10/29

Edits: Replaced garbage text layout with actual ship overhead. Realized the two concept art images face different directions. This likely explains the magical moving jump seats. Also added discussion of a cargo hold. Added discussion of ship dimensions (specifically length). Replaced old guesstimates with numbers from Dawn of Rebellion. Added commentary about the magical seat. Added comment about the belly airlock and updated the floor plan.

I think people under- and over-estimate the Marauder's interior potential. Given its overall size and intended use (transporting about 10-15 troops plus assorted equipment and providing air support in a forward area), there's not much room left for creature comforts.

Except the Batch aren't 10-15 people, they're 5, and the shuttle is referred to as modified numerous times. This leaves plenty of room to make assumptions and freeform. So, as to what we have actual, visual evidence for from episodes and concept art, here is a rudimentary floor plan:

An important point about the two concept art images: they do NOT face the same direction. The top image faces to the aft/back of the ship, i.e. the tailgun. The second image faces to the fore/front of the ship.

Number key:

1: We know this is where the ramp and door are located from War Mantle and Metamorphsis.

2: We know about this upper storage area from Cut and Run

3: The access to the tail gun has changed visual from TCW s07e02 and various TBB episodes.

4: Access to a floor hatch with a narrow, vertical 'airlock' can be seen briefly in Bounty Lost.

The Airlock

With thanks to @megmca for reminding me of this: there's a narrow, belly-hatch airlock. We see it briefly in Bounty Lost, when they attach to the escape pod Omega has commandeered and Wrecker brings her in.

For all of you wondering what airlock-access the ship has, this is it.

The Magically Appearing/Disappearing Seat

In Cut and Run we have this moment with Hunter and Omega, but in most other shots each of these consoles has only one seat (eg. Tech and Echo in prior frames). I think this is actually NOT a magically appearing seat. I think it's the other console seat, because I suspect they can be moved. I base this one this shot from Replacements:

That looks like a seat with a moveable base.

Obviously this is bad design for a ship which is doing barrel rolls and what-not, so I have to assume they're magnetically locked. Even if it is the same seat, in the shots right before that one above, Omega walks up and it's not in that space. So it's almost like the scene was longer and was shortened, and we missed a few frames of her or Hunter unlocking it and moving it over.

Meta Discussions

tl;dr: I think of the Marauder as a small fishing vessel or a van-conversion RV. You can put a lot into a small space if you get creative.

Bathroom I know the writers have made weird assertions there isn't one and omg they all smell gross from no hygiene but that makes zero sense. Soldiers are constantly under stress, they're getting injured, they need to stay clean when possible or they're going to get sick and die from a systemic infection in short order. Anyone who's glanced in the general direction of military history knows this. You can argue about clone expendibility all you want but the Batch minimally qualify in that regard, being Nala Se's pet project. Can you imagine losing one of them to a staph infection because there's nowhere for them to bust out some no-rinse antimicrobial soap or get their scalp clean? I'm not saying they'll be doing photoshoots in between missions (well maybe Hunter would ) but, come on. (And are you going to tell me Mr. Sensor Sensoria is cool with doing long hauls with 4 people who don't bathe? Just, no.)

But that much aside, anyone who's ever been in an RV, a commercial airliner, or a modest-sized sea vessel knows you can cram a bathroom into a tiny space. Yes, you're going to be spinning in circles doing things, but the benefits of a spot to clean up, manage waste, and tend to injuries far outweigh any other use of that area. So regardless of what the writers say, a transport without a minimal refresher (to use the SW term) is counter to the ship's designed use. It has to be able to accommodate Wrecker, of course, but in the end it can double as storage when not in use. There is zero reason to not have one. Added to this, we now officially have a length for the Marauder, which is 30.3 meters (see below). RVs which are 1/5 of that size have bathrooms. You're going to tell me the Marauder doesn't?

If nothing else, since the TCW episodes and the beginning of S1 have pointed to them going on extended deployments with long hops between stops, they're going to need one or constantly be handling waste in much less efficient and sustainable ways.

Added to all of this, it's specifically called a modified variant of an Omicron. We're probably meant to think this means 'Tech would like to fly faster than the GAR and ship engineers think is reasonable for a shuttle' but IMO it extends to changes like this as well. So, there's a refresher in there, feel free to choose a spot. Right across from the fold out racks is a good candidate because in most imagery it's just weapons storage, and there's an entire upper-deck space which you could use for that.

Galley Definitely not one of these. The Batch are eating rations any time they're not on Kamino. You can make an argument they (and all clone units) have cook kits for improvised eating in the field; in the Batch's case I suspect that's a given, as they'd just start doing it because who's going to stop them? Additionally, the sheer amount of rations you would need to carry around to feed Wrecker would be ridiculous. (Remember when Wrecker talks about never being full in S2E13? I feel like this is an indication they did and still do, in fact, have to improvise a lot of additional caloric intake. Hunter probably thought Cut and Suu's farm was a genius idea. 'Grow your own food! Wrecker will never be hungry again! Fucking incredible.' Then Tech got the ship impounded.) I think you can argue for one being added, like with the refresher. Do they actually need those weapons racks anymore? Definitely no. But, it's not on there by default.

Beds As you can see in the concept art above, there are at least 3 racks that fold out from the wall on the port side. They're at a minimum wide enough to accommodate Wrecker, they may also be long enough for him to not need to curl up (unclear because in this shot from Bounty Lost his knees are bent and he's hugging Lula):

Three is a weird number since originally there were four of them. I figure the options here are:

The pilot/copilot/second row seats all look 100% more comfortable than the racks. We actually see Tech sleeping in one, at one point, so this has actual evidence to support it.

It's war time, they're never all asleep simultaneously. Someone is always flying the ship or on watch.

The floor is in effect the same as a rack, arguably preferable as you can't fall off it in the event Something Happens while you're out. So, one of them might actually be ON the floor sometimes.

They're not really intended to sleep on the ship for extended periods, but narratively we're lead to believe they have, many times, and needed to make adjustments to it as a result. Notice how quickly Wrecker whipped up a bed for Omega? IMO, not the first time they've done something like that--they did it for themselves first.

Cargo Hold Based on that screenshot of Omega above and the below shot from Cut and Run, the 'hold' of the ship is actually a storage area overhead, running the length of the ship. In that shot above of the rack, there are a series of yellow rungs which imply you can climb up somewhere on the port side. This is probably alternate access to that same overhead storage space.

In Cut and Run we see Echo, Omega, and Tech hide in it, coming back out from a slide-open hatch:

Given Tech's height this is probably somewhere around 1.5m high.

We can be reasonably certain the hold isn't under the ship, or at least storage there is minimal, due to a couple of things:

In all instances where the hyperdrive has been pulled, it's under the ship on the belly, and takes up a reasonable amount of space. Eg., in Retrieval, here's a bunch of stuff which has been pulled from the ship:

In instances where they're working on the ship from the outside, like in Cornered, the sides and belly never have panels open which contain empty space unless the ship's hardware have been removed to reach something:

So, the cargo hold is probably that space on the top from Cut and Run. It doesn't have much room; reasonably speaking, the area with the weapons and sleeping racks was probably a cargo hold as well, they just converted it to a more general purpose area. (So IMO this is a stronger argument for putting a commercial airliner-style bathroom in place of the weapons racks, particularly once they bail on the Empire.)

Dimensions - updated 11/3/23 Dawn of Rebellion has a Bad Batch section, and indicates the Marauder is 30.3m in length, 36.65m wide (presumably with the wings extended, and 12.41m tall (this probably includes the central stabilizer).

I will edit this to update it as we get more pictures. Since the toys that I know of have no basis the show from an internal perspective I didn't include anything from them.

Image sources:

All screencaps by me. Use at will.

Marauder underlay

Bad Batch Concept Art, Marauder Interior