#the moment at the end where it really sounds like hes on the verge of crying.....thats a singer!!!!!

[imageingrunge]

A needlessly thorough review of DATV so I can move on with my life:

WHAT I LIKED:

The story pacing flows better without all that open world slog from DAI I am not bombarded by 50 side quests that have no baring on anything other than rp flavor

The game is pretty, CC is nice

They gave you far more opportunities to flesh out your Rook's background than in DAI and da2 but it's not as fun has having a mini origin story from DAO

no fall damage and if u run out of a combat zone ur companions follow u too

Hossberg wetlands really remind me of dragon age awakenings and I like the way the blight looks there, it gave me a nice nostalgic feeling for the older games

WHAT I DID NOT LIKE (IN DETAIL)

Voice Acting & Dialogue

It is really hard to be invested in a game that feels the need to recap everything you just experienced from 5 minutes ago, (verging on insulting my intelligence) and the silliest part is while i do hate this I got so checked out after act 2 I needed the recap 

A lot of the dialogue and banter is just empty small talk and meaningless pleasantries that sucked the life out of me, had me longing for the days of hearing Ohgren's beer belches reverberate off the walls in the deep roads:

 Voice acting is really consistent, I hated it when you never knew how your inquisitor would sound in DAI sometimes too serious for a funny comment or like yelling at Cassandra and cullen over nothing - Rook is more consistent but it comes at a loss of personality every line is uttered in the same annoying tone that had me being like damn can he stfu already (da2 was ideal voice acting for me if they cant deliver that again just go back to a voiceless protagonist)

Me whenever my rook opened his mouth: i was getting violent on that skip button

The dialogue between rook and their companions holds it back from being enjoyable at all really- here's some examples:

Emmerich's personal quest in act 2: "I want to do this immortality rite it's a very high honor in my order but rook I might die in the process permanently, I am an orphan and afraid of dying" Rook: "You could die?!?! That's awful"

Companions & Romance

the flirt options aren't all that flirty, its just rook being nice, all the romance content seems behind a 'romance locked in' moment (that comes in so late in the game u already forgot who u were even flirting with at times) so you can't hop ur way from one bed to another before deciding on 'the forever one' (remember when I could ride the iron bull then break up and be with Cullen- I don't think that’s an option here)

The companions are all pretty forgettable, I did everyone's personal quest (with the exception of Taash tried to kill a dragon for them n failed so bad i just moved on) and forgot there was even an approval system with them or that I was supposed to pick choices for them. It felt like i was on a train going in one direction where it did not matter what I said or did to them they would be fine. It’s like I've lost and gained nothing by doing these quests. The deepest thing I learned about Emmerich is that he is a 50 yr old orphan scared of dying. And it makes me not care all that much about them beyond “I just need you to function enough to get me to the end of the game sure Taash embrace being Rivaini, yes Harding live peacefully w that Titan shit inside you idc… Lucanis..ahh what was ur issue again I forget”

I made Lucanis live peacefully with Spite (stuck as an abomination that's supposed to be as volatile as Anders & Justice) Let Emmerich become a lich and no one batted an eye. Everyone just heehee haw hawing over Emmerich's new skeleton form and I forget about spite a lot unless he comments on something i've killed. Was there supposed to be some moral quandary? to make Emmerich a lich I had to "kill off" Manfred... the walking skeleton who might as well have been a rock with a pair of googly eyes attached to him for all i care

I don’t want to help Bellara light funeral pyres in a puzzle game play style that isnt a deep message about death. I want Aveline's speech about reading her favorite book to her dying father after hawke lost thier mother.

For Neve's romance, it took the whole world falling part and everyone dying for her to kiss me for a 2 time and then pity fuck me and afterword she’s like I’m leaving don’t want to be too distracting. All these lines carry no weight like bad actors w no chemistry

jaw on the floor comparing this (first time I said "i love you" to neve)

to the first time I said it to cullen and how he treats u before the big battle

I get that she isn't lovey dovey but at 70 hrs in and 2 kisses it feels like she just dont love me </3

Combat - as a spellblade mage*

combat was this weird mix of sometimes fun sometimes a new and unique form of human torture (wydm press shift 4 times n hold down e then press V C and 2 IM ON A KEYBOARD!) Once u make it past level 20 u are immortal but ur enemies are sponges I dreaded every single dragon fight despite that being my favorite thing to do in DAI. Don't ever want to see another Ogre in my life they body me into corners that hitting space can't save me from.

At some point u just gotta run around the place a lot hoping ur companions can do the damage for you bc the mobs aren’t interested in them at all. i was spamming 2 n slamming on that E key hopping it would be over n done with already, If i wanted to play a flashy monster hunter game, well then id play tw3 at least that combat is fun.

Lore & Story building

At the end of Trespasser, I was under the impression that the conflict in DATV would revolve around solas amassing an army of elves all over Thedas to rebel against the Evanuris. He had a whole network of Spies working against the Inquisition and the Antaam, and planned to restore the elven people, upend their religious views, and try to tear down the veil as a way of atonement. So I was understanding of there only being 3 import choices ( 1- who you romanced, 2- Save or redeem Solas 3- Disband or Keep inquisition). But that's not the story we get; instead its this??

The veil jumpers are like engineering mages with no ties to Solas beyond being an elves. There is no religious struggle they just seem to accept that these Gods have always been evil and need to be stopped. Solas is just a one man army trapped in the fade off screen for like 70% of the game. Should I have just kept the inquisition around after all? The only mention I got was my disbanded inquisition choice was inky going "my name still carries weight in southern thedas" and it seemed like disbanding or keeping it would have an affect on how easy or hard it would be to stop Solas but no it really doesn't at all

“It doesn’t feel like a Dragon Age game”

A criticism I rarely take seriously because that can mean so many different things? Like what is it the atmosphere? The aesthetics? The “dArK fAnTasy” none of these things have ever stayed consistent in any dragon age game. And I’d say DA franchise lost its teeth/edge when dai rolled around it was pretty light in the world of dark fantasy

However…theyre kinda right this time around....

It doesn’t feel like a dragon age game because they removed a lot of the lore your were exposed to in the previous games to the point where this might as well be another game all together. (i am not even a lore nerd but i do need something there to feel like i am in a dragon age game)

Yes the city is named Minrathos you were are told of its cultural significance and history as the seat of the empire but looks like a shittier version of kirkwall (and I kept getting lost going around the map so I hated it even more for wasting my time) Honestly the city felt super high tech and out of place in a fantasy setting imo, I missed it when everyone lived in a wooden hovel in the middle of the woods.

There is no reason for the venatori to follow Elgarnan and ghilian'nan or for the Qunari either but it all gets hand waved away with "they offered us power"

Reading the Inquisitors letters made me feel like im in a spinoff game and the real story is happening somewhere else. And sad to like baby take me with you!! i want to save u from this nightmare

A lot of the factions are sanitized to the point of being boring Darvin's little 'we're warden we don't do blood magic that's just not right" baby I let the wardens sacrifice elves to Corphyeus 3 weeks ago :/

Qunari Culture

So the whole reason you were fighting the Antaam in DAI was because they believed you were in cahoots with Solas, who's whole plan to them is to sow chaos and disorder- that is a HUGE no no in the Qun so they see it as their sacred duty to stop you. The Qunari we meet in DATV mindless npc mooks who attack you not because your with Solas but because the Evil elven gos promised them uhh power n shit for stopping you. Like I know I did not just waste my time in DAI reading about how egalitarian the Qun is everyone is like a Hive, they depend on each other so selfishness is rooted out so wtf was going on in Treviso with these guys. A whole culture decimated down to being darkspawn mobs part 2

What made me never want to play another DA game ever again:

Everything you ever did in Orlais, Ferelden, Kirkwall is pointless. No matter what the last letter from the Inquistor is "yeah the blight reached the south Denerim is gone, ferelden is blighted beyond repair, we took back Skyhold but barely. The Venatori disposed of whoever you put in charge of Orlais and there's giant leviathans rising out the sea in Ostwick"  There is no conclusion to this it's just the state of the world now

I cant even pretend my non solas romanced Inky is happy and safe after all this? My hof and Alistar might as well be dead for all that it ever mattered. I get that the devs wanted a clean slate but did they have to burn my house down and salt the fields? It feels so spiteful and mean, like they wanted to make a whole separate game and tack on the "dragon age" title to it for money. If they're not interested in the lore or world building why should I? it made me fully checked out of the rest of the story. Like damn idgaf about elgar'nan and the other one give me back Redcliff

TLDR I dont know if i should be sad that I still care about this or glad its over either way im blocking all datv tags n moving on

[just-a-simple-dyke]

Sorry for being annoying about trot on main again but can everyone listen to this rn thanks

[yunniverse]

Important

౨ৎ PAIRING— kim hongjoong x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, argument but happy ending

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 2.1k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you expected hongjoong to remember, but he forgot.

౨ৎ A/N— hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! feedback is appreciated!!

“One coffee, extra milk and sugar,” you tell the cashier at the coffee shop, understanding why he seems tired and looks as if he wants to get out of there and in his bed already. It’s almost midnight, after all.   “That all?” he asks, looking about as uninterested as he possibly can.   “No,” you clear your throat, not even having to look at the menu. “Another coffee, one sugar.”   He nods slowly, placing the order before taking your card and swiping it. You wait by the door, checking your phone again, only to not see any messages from him, just as you expected.

Though, it still feels like a punch to the gut. You had already texted Yunho to ask where he is, even though you pretty much already knew.   You look up when the cashier calls out your order, pushing off the wall to grab the drinks. “Thanks,” you tell him, offering him a half smile. “Have a good night.”   “Mhm,” he responds as you walk out of the coffee shop, the bell ringing above the door.   Getting into your car, you sigh as you place the drinks in the cup holders. It’s your one year anniversary of dating Hongjoong, and you honestly shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that he obviously forgot.

You’ve tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, given the fact that Ateez is in the middle of promoting their new comeback, but it still hurt when he didn’t show up at the restaurant like he said he would.

You had even had to tell them to cancel the reservation, after you waited for nearly an hour for him to show up.   As you drive, you try to stay calm, knowing it isn’t his fault completely, and he has way too much on his plate, but he could have told you he was too busy, right?   When you pull up to KQ, you sigh yet again, grabbing the drinks as you open your door, met with a burst of cool air. Bringing the coffee inside with you, you slowly make your way to Hongjoong’s workplace.   When you finally make it, you can’t help the small shadow of a smile that creeps onto your face when you see him hunched over in front of his computer, writing notes and humming.

He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, which you hate to admit, because you’re supposed to be upset, looks amazing on him. His soft, brown hair is a little messy from running his fingers through it, but somehow he still looks beautiful.   “Hongjoong?” you question softly, sighing when he doesn’t respond, still humming to himself amd writing. Gently placing the drinks on the table beside the door, you walk over to him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.   With a small jolt, he turns to look at you, his face softening when he sees you. “Hey, baby,” he greets you with a warm smile, pushing the glasses up on his nose.   “Hi,” you respond, rubbing your arm, as Hongjoong grabs your hand, trying to tug you a little closer, probably to give you a hug, but you shake your head, trying to shrug him off.   He frowns, confused, “What’s wrong?”   “You really forgot?” you question, hating how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t help it. Finally seeing him today had just snapped something inside of you, and now you feel like you’re on the verge of tears.   “Forgot?” Hongjoong questions, his pretty brown eyes searching your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes, trying to read your emotions.   “Our anniversary,” you inform him, hearing your voice shake slightly.   Hongjoong’s face falls as he slumps in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his eyes before meeting your gaze again, seeing the disappointment in yours. “Oh, baby, I didn’t… You don’t… It wasn’t…? It was today?”   You simply nod, sniffing in order to hold back the tears threatening to fall at any moment.   “I set an alert so I wouldn’t forget, but I got so busy today that I haven’t checked my phone,” Hongjoong sighs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I truly didn’t mean to.”   “I understand,” you nod once, stepping away from him. “You’re just busy. Work comes first. I’ve always known that.”   “No, y/n,” Hongjoong shakes his head, reaching for you again, but you take another step back. “Please!”   “No, Hongjoong,” you reach for the coffee, holding it out to him as you gesture at it. “I got your usual.”   “Thanks, I-“   “But I’m gonna go.”   “What?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows crease as he stands. “Why?”   “You’re busy, and I’m a burden to your work,” you shrug, trying your best to sound unaffected, though you’re almost certain Hongjoong can see through your act.   “It isn’t like that, y/n,” Hongjoong sighs, his shoulders lowering in defeat as he plays with the wrapping around the paper coffee cup.   “What’s it like then, Joongie?” you ask, the nickname slipping out accidentally, you being to used to saying it.   Hongjoong’s offers you a small smile at the nickname, as he takes a step toward you, hoping you won’t back away. “I genuinely didn’t mean to forget, baby, but between the comeback preparations and the fanmeet and performance earlier today, it just completely slipped my mind.”   “I understand!” you suddenly snap, knowing you’re being unreasonable, but you just can’t seem to wrap you head around him forgetting your anniversary. “I understand, Joong.”   “It isn’t about you understanding,” he responds, somehow remaining calm. “It’s about letting me apologize.”   “I am letting you apologize,” you cross your arms, and Hongjoong sighs, looking down before fixing the glasses on his nose again. “Please, go right ahead.”   Without another word, Hongjoong steps toward you, his arms wrapping around your stiff frame.

At first, you stiffen even more, but, the longer he perseveres, the more you find yourself melting into him.   The soothing, faint scent of citrus and ginger slowly lures you to press your face into the soft skin of Hongjoong’s neck, breathing out a sigh as you relax into his warm embrace.   “I really am sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair, making a small whimper escape your lips, muffled by Hongjoong’s skin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”   “Really?” you ask, sniffling slightly as you pull back to look him in the eyes.   “Yeah,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as he speaks. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go this weekend. Name it, we’ll be there.”   “Joongie,” you frown a little, causing him to glance down at your lips, giving you a small pout when he sees your downturned expression. “I don’t need to go somewhere to be happy. I just want to spend time with you.”   “But-“   You lift your hand, placing a finger against Hongjoong’s lips to silence him. “Honestly, that’s all I really wanted anyway. To talk to you and finally get to be with you again. It’s been way too long since we had an evening to ourselves, given your hard work all the time.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickers across your face as he takes in your words, looking a little confused.   “You didn’t want to go out tonight?” he asks softly.   “No,” you shake your head a little, a small smile forming on your face. “Don’t get me wrong, it would’ve been fun, but what I really wanted was you.”   “Just me?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe it.   “I love you, Joongie,” you laugh a little. “All I ever want is your attention.”   He glances down, a small blush spreading across his cheeks, but he soon gets himself under control, meeting your gaze again. “Then, we’ll have a movie night this weekend. Just you, me, snacks, a movie, and cuddles. Does that sound nice?”   “Sounds perfect,” you sigh, this time in content, as Hongjoong grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your eyelids flutter closed, thoroughly enjoying his kiss, especially since it’s been so long since you’ve had a kiss from Hongjoong.   When he finally pulls away, you grin cheekily, “But, only on one condition.”   “What’s that?” Hongjoong asks, furrowing his eyebrows.   “Wear this outfit,” you smile shyly, eyeing his earrings and his necklace. “You look so hot.”   Hongjoong reddens, taken by surprise, as he averts eye contact, groaning a little in embarrassment, “Babyy.”   “Hm?” you hum, blinking innocently.   “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he responds, still blushing. “Plus, I’m barefaced.”   “And?” you question, quirking an eyebrow. “You look beautiful with or without makeup. Don’t make me convince you again.”   He yelps as you playfully pinch his sides in warning, causing him to jump away from you a little. “Okay, okay.”   With a giggle, you let him grab your hand, pulling you toward his rolling chair. “Wanna sit with me and watch me work for a little while?”   “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch my cute boyfriend work,” you respond cheekily, making Hongjoong groan again, trying to hide his blush.   “Stop, baby,” he pouts at you, making you laugh.   “I love you,” you tell him suddenly, making him turn to look at you. “And I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”   “Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong responds sternly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you toward him from his position seated in his chair. “It’s completely my fault that I forgot, and I promise I’ll do better about that. You’re so much more important to me than work. I know I don’t prove it often enough, but it’s true. I hope you know that I love you so, so much.”   “I know, Joongie,” you smile, your hands moving to his head, carefully pushing his soft hair away from his face.

His eyelids flutter closed at the feeling, a small sigh escaping his lips. “And remembering anniversaries isn’t the most important thing in a relationship anyway. You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for, even if you forget important dates.”   Hongjoong’s eyes open at that, though the frown that grows on his face is sleepy as he speaks, “What else have I forgotten?”   “Don’t you remember when you forgot you were meeting my parents a few months ago?” you ask pointedly.   “Oh, right,” Hongjoong mumbles in response. “Well, at least they still liked me.”   “Who wouldn’t like you?” you giggle, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp, earning another soft sigh from the man in front of you, whose head falls softly against your stomach. “They want to see you again, you know.”   Hongjoong hums, his eyes closed as you speak softly. After a few moments of talking about your family, you continue, “Are you working on a song?”   When you don’t get a response, you glance down, a little confused. “Aw, baby,” you whisper, when you realize he fell asleep against you.

With the hands still buried in Hongjoong’s hair, you gently push his head off of you, enough to see his face, smiling when you notice his glasses are still on.   You gently move his head to lean against your left arm as you carefully remove the glasses before shifting to lean against his desk.   A smile appears on your face when you hear Hongjoong mumbling something. You feel your heartbeat speed up when you realize he’s saying ‘I love you.’   “I love you, too, Joongie,” you respond softly before your eyes find the coffee on the table, and you shake your head, laughing slightly. “The coffee’s gone cold, now, and you didn’t even drink any.”   When you get no response, as expected, you gently rake your fingers through his hair again, this time eliciting a small groan from Hongjoong.   Your eyes widen as you laugh, your slight shaking jostling Hongjoong awake. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and slurred with sleep.   “Nothing, baby,” you giggle, collecting yourself. “Would you like to move to the couch?” He nods, letting you move away, though he still whines at the loss of warmth.   “You’re being very vocal today, Joong,” you quirk an eyebrow down at him as he moves to stand. “You definitely need sleep.”   “Gotta work,” he replies, but doesn’t resist as you guide him toward the couch.   “You can finish work tomorrow,” you tell him, settling down on the couch and pulling him with you gently. He collapses onto the couch, his face finding your neck as your fingers automatically find his hair again.   You grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over both of you. “Goodnight, Joongie.”   “G’night, baby, and happy anniversary,” he mumbles against you, causing a smile to grow on your face as you tighten your grip, letting out a small sigh of content.   And, as you press a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head, you realize that, even though Hongjoong did forget your anniversary, it isn’t even what is really important. What’s important is the love you two share all the time, whether you can be together a lot or not.   “Happy anniversary, Hongjoong.”

[nhlclover]

WITH OR WITHOUT YOU JACK HUGHES

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack grapples with overwhelming guilt after betraying you, struggling to reconcile his love with the mistake that threatens to destroy your relationship.

warnings: cheating, tears and fighting, jack being a terrible boyfriend!!

wc: 3.51k

notes: very much inspired by ross & rachel's break up scene in friends + based on with or without you by U2

Jack stared into the mirror at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes barely open. The dim bathroom light cast shadows across his face, accentuating every crease, every line etched by guilt and exhaustion. His face was inches away from the mirror, seeing deep into every pore that clutched onto sin. His breath fogged the mirror for a moment — obscuring the image for a brief, blessed second. But when it cleared, he still saw it — his own face, but twisted by shame, unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the man staring back at him, the man who’d betrayed everything that mattered most to him.

Jack ran a hand through his damp hair, slick with cold sweat. His heart pounded a bruise into his chest, the rhythm a constant, relentless reminder of the night before — the nightmare that felt all too real, too close. He had woken up in a panic, the vividness of the dream merging with reality, until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. The taste of regret still lingered on his lips like the cheap vodka from the bar, and no amount of water would wash it away.

He turned on the tap, the water flowing in a persistent stream. He splashed it over his face, droplets racing down his cheeks, but the coolness did little to chase away the heat of shame burning beneath his skin. Jack pressed his fingers to his lips, as though he could scrub the memory from his skin, as though he could erase the mistake if he just tried hard enough. But the water running from the faucet wasn’t enough. His lips would never be raw enough to cleanse the guilt coursing through his veins.

The images of the night replayed in flashes—fragments too sharp, too vivid. The pulsing bass of the club, the crowded, suffocating heat, bodies pressed too close together. He’d been drinking—more than he should’ve—each glass dulling his thoughts, blurring the line between right and wrong until it vanished entirely. And then, in the haze of it all, she appeared. Her movements were slow, deliberate, weaving through the crowd until she stood too close, her presence inescapable.

Jack had felt the distance growing between you two for weeks, the silent weight of unspoken words, the tension that wrapped around every interaction. You were always there in his mind, lingering at the edge of every thought, every decision, but still, he hadn’t stopped it. He didn’t push her away. Her laughter was sweet, her touch light, her voice a soft hum that lulled him into forgetting. One moment she was a stranger across the room, and the next, they were slipping into the backseat of a cab, her lips against his neck, her fingers laced with his as though it had been inevitable.

He gripped the edge of the sink now, knuckles white, the memory clawing at his insides. Why had he done it? What possessed him to throw away everything that mattered for a fleeting moment of nothingness? He didn’t even remember her name. He couldn’t recall her face, not really. But he remembered your face, the softness of your eyes, the way you laughed at his stupid jokes, how you knew him better than anyone. ou, who had stood by him through every hardship, every late night, every moment he hadn’t deserved you. You were everything. And still, he’d let himself betray you.

Why? Why, why why?

He didn’t know. The question burned through him, hollowing him out until there was nothing left but shame and confusion. The bathroom was suffocating now, the air too thick, the sound of the running water too loud. He felt like his chest was on the verge of caving in.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his spiraling thoughts, soft, almost hesitant. He didn’t need to look up to know it was you. You stood in the doorway, your figure a silhouette against the dim light from the hallway, your hair mussed from sleep, and your expression caught between concern and exhaustion.

“Jack?” Your voice was a whisper, tender, filled with the kind of care that twisted the knife deeper in his chest. You stepped closer, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed thickly, forcing a smile that felt like shards of glass in his throat. “Yeah… I’m fine. Just go back to bed.” His voice came out strained, unnatural. He turned back to the sink, hoping you wouldn’t hear the tremor in his words.

You weren’t convinced. He could feel it in the way you approached him, the warmth of your hand resting softly on his arm. “You don’t seem fine.”

Your touch burned, seared through the guilt like fire on his skin. He nodded too quickly, too desperately. “I am. I’m fine. Really.”

You hesitated, your frown deepening, but you didn’t press. Instead, you took his hand, your fingers slipping between his, leading him back to the bed. Jack let you, his body moving mechanically, but his mind was a storm — raging, relentless. He slid under the covers beside you, his skin ice against the warmth of your body. You fell asleep easily, your breathing slow and peaceful, unaware of the war inside him.

Jack lay awake, staring at the ceiling, drowning in the guilt that refused to let him breathe. He wanted to be close to you, to hold you tighter, to never let go. But his touch felt poisoned now. You didn’t know, couldn’t know. How could you sleep so peacefully next to a man who had betrayed you? He closed his eyes, but sleep never came.

Days passed, each one a marathon of guilt. He couldn’t look at you without feeling the weight of his secret dragging him under. The air between you two was thick, heavy with the tension of what was unspoken. You noticed. How could you not? You asked him, more than once, what was wrong. But Jack lied, every time, his answers mechanical, shallow. He wasn’t fine. He was drowning.

You couldn't take it anymore. The tension between you two had become unbearable, festering into something you could no longer ignore. You had tried everything — patience, gentle conversations, offering him space to open up — but it was like he was slipping further and further away with every attempt. Jack wasn’t there anymore, at least not in the way you needed him to be.

Jack was simply the shell of the man you’d once fell in love with. Nothing loveable about him was showing. His humour was gone, his loving touch something you’d scornfully missed. It continued on in painful waves, the tension between you two growing like an invisible wall, thickening with every passing moment of silence.

You stood in the doorway one night, arms tightly crossed over your chest, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on your shoulders. Your eyes, rimmed with fatigue, fixed on Jack, who barely registered your presence. Slouched on the couch, he scrolled through his phone, the harsh light from the screen casting deep shadows on his face, his expression as vacant as his gaze. It was as if the world around him had faded into static.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Your voice cracked, more out of frustration than sadness, though both emotions swirled inside you. Jack’s eyes flicked up, his movements slow, almost reluctant. His gaze, hollow and tired, swept over you like a stranger’s. You felt your chest tighten at the emptiness there. “You’ve been distant, barely even talking to me for days, and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Your words struck him like a blow, his shoulders tensing, but still, he didn’t speak. His fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles paling with the effort to hold onto something—anything—that wasn’t this conversation.

You took a step forward, your frustration gaining momentum. The distance between you felt vast, more than just the few feet separating the two of you physically. It felt as though Jack was slipping further and further away with each passing second.

“I feel like I don’t even exist to you anymore! Like I’m just… here. You’re not even trying, and it feels like I’m the only one fighting to keep this relationship going!” Your voice rose as the words spilled out, emotions you’d kept bottled up for too long finally finding release. “I get that things have been hard lately, but I can’t do this alone, Jack. I won’t. We can work through this together… whatever it is I’m willing, but I need you to put in some fucking effort too.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as if he were bracing himself for the impact of your words. Slowly, he set his phone down on the coffee table, sitting up straighter but averting his eyes from your gaze.

“Say something!” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Please, Jack. I need to understand. Do you even still want this? Do you even want me anymore?”

His head snapped up at that, eyes wide, his face a mixture of fear and anguish. “Of course, I want you!” he said, his voice rough, as if the words had been clawing at his throat. “It's not that. It’s never been that.”

“Then what is it?” you pressed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Because right now, it feels like you’ve already checked out of this relationship, and I don’t know why. I feel like I’m losing you, Jack.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his face pale, lips pressed together in a thin line as though every word he wanted to say had turned to ash in his mouth. Then something inside him shattered. The weight of whatever he had been carrying finally bore down on him, and his whole frame seemed to sag. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, burying his head in his hands.

“I screwed up,” he whispered, his voice so low you could barely hear it.

Your heart stuttered, the dread settling in your stomach like a lead weight. “What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, moving closer until you were standing directly in front of him. Your hands reached out, trembling, as you touched his forearm gently, desperate to connect with him. His hand dropped from his face, slipping into yours with a kind of resignation.

Jack raised his head slowly, and when he looked at you, his eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with unshed tears. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he really saw you, and the weight of his guilt pressed down on him. He looked hollow, as though the burden of his secret had already broken him long before this moment.

“That night when I didn’t come home,” he started, his voice shaky, cracking around the edges. “I said I was at Petey’s, but I… I went to a club. I was drunk. Way too drunk. And there was this girl.” He swallowed hard, his hands gripping yours tighter as if he feared letting go would mean losing you completely. “I don’t know why I did it, but I didn’t stop it. I slept with her.”

The world seemed to stop around you, the air leaving your lungs in a rush. You felt like someone had punched you in the gut, the room spinning as his confession hung in the air between you. For a moment, you could only hear the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. The words felt distant, foreign, as if they didn’t belong in your story—your story with Jack. How could they? How could this be the same man you had shared your life with? The man who had held you through late-night talks and whispered promises of forever? Your hand fell limp in his, slipping away, your fingers curling into a fist until your nails bit into your skin. You felt the sting, but it was muted, drowned out by the growing numbness that spread from your heart outwards, freezing you to the core.

“You—” Your voice faltered, barely a whisper. “You slept with someone else?”

He nodded, the movement slow and heavy as if even that small acknowledgment cost him more than he could bear. His eyes squeezed shut, and you saw the way his body caved in, the weight of his guilt making him look smaller, almost childlike in his vulnerability.

“I was drunk,” he repeated weakly, as if the words could somehow absolve him, could undo the act. “I didn't mean to. I— I didn't even know what was happening until it was already done, and I swear it didn't mean anything. And—and I regret it more than anything in my life.” He finally looked at you, eyes pleading for some kind of understanding, but you just stared at him, frozen in shock.

The room was too quiet now, the ticking of the clock on the wall loud and intrusive, marking the seconds since your world had come crashing down. You couldn’t find anger—it would’ve been easier if you could—but instead, there was only a hollow ache, a sadness that settled deep in your bones, far too deep to be soothed by words.

Tears blurred your vision, slipping down your cheeks before you even realized they had begun to fall. Jack saw them and flinched, his face twisting in anguish. He reached for you, but his hands fell away at the last second, as if he already knew you wouldn’t want his touch—not now. Not after this.

“Please, say something,” he begged, his voice cracking under the pressure. “Please… yell at me, scream, do something. I deserve it, I know I do. Just—just talk to me. I can’t stand this.”

But you couldn’t. There were no words strong enough to capture the hurt that spread through your chest, the weight that pressed against your ribs, making it hard to breathe. The man you loved, the man who had promised to be yours, had betrayed you in the worst way, and now he was asking for absolution. But forgiveness wasn’t something you could give—not yet, maybe not ever. You stared at the coffee table, at the space where your knees almost brushed his, but you couldn't bring yourself to even acknowledge his presence.

You finally forced the words out, a broken whisper that barely filled the space between you. “Why? Why would you do that to us? After everything…”

“I don’t know,” Jack said desperately, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I really don’t. I was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I was drunk, and I— I lost myself. But I love you. You know I do, right? Please… you have to believe me. It was a mistake, the biggest one I've ever made, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

“How can you even say that? How can you say you love me when you had sex with another woman?” you asked, your voice still barely audible to Jack.

His face crumpled as though your words had struck him physically, a visible blow to the heart. "Because it’s the truth. I love you more than anything, and I regret it every second. I’ll do anything to make this right—just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it."

But there was nothing he could do. The damage had been done. You stared at him, at the boy who had once been your everything, but now… now he was a stranger. You shook your head slowly, your eyes glassy and distant. “I don’t think I can do this, Jack.”

The words came out softly, but they hit him like a freight train. His face paled, panic rising in his eyes as he leaned forward grasping for your hand, but you pulled it away. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. We can fix this. I’ll do anything, just tell me what you need.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, you didn’t recognize the man sitting in front of you. This wasn’t the Jack you fell in love with, the man who had always made you feel safe and loved. The man sitting across from you was someone who had shattered your trust, and no matter how much you wished it wasn’t true, you couldn’t see him the same way anymore.

“I need you to go,” you said softly, your voice breaking on the last word. Your heart broke all over again as the words tumbled from your lips, but you knew they had to be said.

Jack froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “What? No— no, please. Don’t do this. Don’t push me away. We can work through it. We have to.”

The anguish in his voice sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over you. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let him pull you into his arms and promise you that things could go back to the way they were before. But the damage was done, and no amount of empty promises could mend what had been broken.

Your lips trembled as you shook your head, the tears that had been gathering finally spilling over, tracing hot paths down your cheeks. “I need time, Jack. I need space to think about everything. I don’t know if I can ever look at you the same way again, and I can’t do this right now. I just… I need you to go.”

He looked at you, stricken, as though his world was crumbling around him. “Please, baby, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You said ten minutes ago that we could work through anything.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the sob that threatened to break free. “That was before I knew how you betrayed me. How you betrayed us.”

You forced yourself to stand, your legs trembling beneath you as you turned away from him. You needed space — anything to dull the ache in your chest. Jack stood too, but he kept his distance, as if afraid that any wrong move might push you further away. His voice was barely a whisper now, fragile, as though even he knew it wouldn’t be enough to reach you.

“There’s… there’s gotta be a way we can work past this,” Jack said. You turned to look at him, your eyes bloodshot, the grief etched into every inch of your face. Jack felt his heart crack in two at the sight of you, your once-bright spirit now shadowed by the weight of betrayal. “I mean, I can’t imagine my life without you. Y-you’re such a good person, and I know I don’t deserve you but… I can’t not have you in my life, y/n. I need you— I need us.”

Both your faces now had matching streaks, your tears unchecked and relentless as they soaked your shirts. He reached out for you once more, and this time, you didn’t pull away. He cautiously placed his hand on your arm, then slid it to your waist, his touch trembling with uncertainty. Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as if holding on for dear life, pressing his face into your stomach.

Your body shook with sobs, the pain too much to contain. “I can’t,” you choked out through your tears. “I don’t know how I can be with you without seeing you as the man who broke my heart. I just… I just can’t stop picturing you with someone else, Jack. It’s changed everything.”

You stepped out of his grasp, the connection severed, leaving Jack kneeling there, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Slowly, he stood, his movements sluggish, weighed down by the overwhelming guilt and grief. He could see it in your eyes—the decision had already been made. The door to your heart had closed, and no matter how much he wanted to tear it down and beg for another chance, he knew he was on the outside now. He had lost you.

Jack stepped around you, pausing at the doorway, turning to look at you one last time. His face was etched with regret, his voice a broken whisper. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes filled with the sorrow of a man who knew he had thrown away the best thing he ever had. “I’m so sorry.”

The soft click of the door echoed in the apartment, a final punctuation to the end of what once had been everything. The silence that followed felt oppressive, heavy with all the words left unspoken, all the promises that had been broken.

You moved numbly to the couch, collapsing onto the cushions as if your body could no longer hold the weight of your grief. Your arms wrapped around your knees, hugging yourself tightly, as if the pressure could keep the jagged pieces of your heart from spilling out. But no matter how tightly you held on, the pain seeped through the cracks, a constant, relentless ache that wouldn’t be ignored.

[oimitocat]

YOU TELL ME | OS

༘۠ hyunjin x artist! m!reader

༘۠ falling in love + nsfw + one night stand + fan (hyunjin) x artist (reader) + masturbation + teasing + getting together

༘۠ a/n; nothing else to add, just that the nsfw is more like a flashback than full blown smut

“this week’s biggest news! artist y/n is doing a world tour! the rising artist had caught a lot of attention not only from his new album that has reached top fifty on the billboard charts but also prying eyes from his recent attendance at a fashion event in seoul, korea! the artist has spoken about his—”

hyunjin zones out after half of the video. the video of y/n smiling catching his full attention. you have a beautiful smile, one he had fallen in love with even more the moment he saw you in person at the fashion event. up until now he’s only been seeing you through his phone, hoping for a chance in his schedule to visit your concerts and get an autograph.

“how about i sign you instead of this picture?” you ask with a mischievous grin.

“—the artist is dropping his tour list today at eight pm. comment down where you live and if you’re excited to hear his newest album in person!”

hyunjin look at the time at the top of his phone screen. it’s 6:30 am right now. which means the tour list already dropped. he quickly goes to your instagram and squeals at the sight of the post. his eyes rack the list but his smile falters after a while. you’re going to the usa, italy, portugal, germany and spain. not korea. of course, no one really comes to korea. he sighs, turning his phone off and staring out into the darkness of his room.

“i’m sorry?” he asked, confused at what you had said. “sign me?”

immediately, a paper is held up to hyunjin by a man standing next to y/n. hyunjin recognizes the paper, he doesn’t even have to read what’s on it. he knows. he looks up at you, startled and bewildered. is this… for real?

he had managed to get you on the way to the restroom. the event was still going, everyone is still sitting and socializing. he turns to his own escort. he’s never been in this situation, he himself has never asked a fan to sign the nda contract. as exhilarating as this is, it’s also very… embarrassing.

“hyunjin, right?” you ask, snapping him out of his mental turmoil. “don’t you want to get to know me?”

hyunjin swallows, “pen?”

the sight of your grin growing makes him want to combust in the spot.

he turns over, groaning out of embarrassment. did he have to sound so stupidly nervous? he can’t complain though, at the end of the day he got to experience something even better with you. the memory itself makes him a hot mess. all he had asked was when your new album would drop. he made conversation for once because it was literally a once in a lifetime opportunity.

and well…

the hotel. you were escorted to the hotel thirty minutes away from the event. the whole event you kept glancing at him. eye fucking him. not just him though, he was aware of everyone else eyeing him — yet, your eyes were what mattered most to him. he’s smiling to himself, biting his thumb until the time arrives.

he even texted felix, letting him know he’s on the verge of throwing up from nerves. all he received was a ‘liar, stop being delusional’. to which he replies with a picture of you serving him a glass of wine.

he pulls up that exact picture, eyeing your side profile. your hands— “oomf,” he groans, shoving his face into the pillow. those same hands that roamed his body.

he doesn’t exactly know what to say, he just listens to you talk. yet, his eyes are on you hand. the rings that decorate your fingers. you have one on each finger except the thumb.

he asked about it after you finish talking about how the event security did another artist dirty. you pause, looking at him intensely before smiling.

“it’s more aesthetically pleasing that way. don’t worry though, i’ll have my hands clean for you.” he stares at you with wide eyes as you lean in, after all, i want to feel you under them.”

and he leans in to kiss you.

hyunjin turns his phone off again, screaming into his pillow. the nerve he had! to kiss you! what if you thought he was desperate. well, regardless, what’s done is done. you had him and he had you. the desperation was both sided…

“you know you’re beautiful, right? why say it?” you say as you slide your hands up his inner thighs, feeling the firmness of his muscles. “you’re already a work of art,” he whines when your hand grazes his hardened member. “let me add some final touches though.”

you kiss his jaw, slowly going further down his neck. there’s a spot that get a gasp out of him. you kiss and lick, humming and moaning at his noises. he sounds so beautiful. you kiss down his collabone, his chest. as you reach his nipple, you bring your other hand up to his neck. the weight of your hand— ringless, because you had taken them off before bringing him to the bed— making him whimper. you suck and nibble on his hardened bud. he jolts and writhes under you, you have to add some pressure on his neck to get him to behave.

it’s hot. really hot. hyunjin almost cums from your attention alone. you kiss further down, your hand leaving his neck and coming down to his thighs. he gasps and buckles his hips when you kiss his leaking tip.

“don’t worry pretty,” you breathe out, smiling at how undone he’s becoming in your hands, “you’ll get what you want.” and you take him in your mouth.

hyunjin moans as he cums in his hand. he goes limp on his bed, airy breaths leaving his mouth. he closes his eyes, the last smile you threw at him before leaving the hotel replaying in his head. he remembers how weak his legs were after hours of you pounding him into the sheets. after coming four times and the aftercare that came with it.

it was so much.

yet so little.

——

weeks pass by. months. hyunjin is stuck reminiscing on the past, at some point he doesn’t. his schedule gets hectic again. there is hope though. hope that one day you two could do something again or maybe just text. it’s not possible though, his management wouldn’t allow it unless the two of you undergo some sort of process. which sucks.

he’s being delusional, especially now with how he was told two months ago that they will be attending an award ceremony. the billboard awards.

the practice is crazy. the schedule is hectic. he wants to barf at some point because you’re going to be somewhere near his seat and the thought alone makes him nervous. will you treat him indifferently? will you act like nothing happened?

“you good?” felix asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

they’re backstage now, ready to perform.

“i wanna throw up,” he confesses, giving felix a look.

the younger catches on fast. almost everyone in the group already knows now, his anxiety as the day of the awards drew near was too worrying. they all assured him they’ll have his back, yet he still doesn’t know what he’ll do if he really does become another person on your list that was a one time thing. obviously, it’s better for both of you for it to not repeat.

yet, he can’t help but be hopeful. as much as he knows it’s for the best… as much as he knows that the contract strictly says this will not be repeated… why is his heart so yearning?

he doesn’t mean to. he looks across the stage and glides over the countless faces before them when they finish their stage.

“wonderful work out there!” their managers yell out as they all file backstage. “if anyone needs to use the bathroom go now.”

“i’m good,” seungmin shrugs.

“come with me?” felix asks hyunjin, who nods.

hyunjin and felix are the only ones that go. felix happily praises him for “not spilling your guts out! see? all good!”

hyunjin rolls his eyes and shoves felix into the stall. he waits outside by the sinks, looking at himself in the mirror. he’s damp with sweat, his hair is still a little messy, they’ll do touch ups once they return.

the door opens, he’s not a social person, so he shies away and doesn’t dare look at the person.

“hey hyunjin,” you say loud enough for him to hear. he turns around, almost getting whiplash. you were standing before him, smiling warmly. “you look great,” you grin, “i’ve always wanted to see you perform…”

“ah, th-thank you, you perform in a bit, r-right?” hyunjin can’t believe it.

“yeah but…” you look around, “we could perform something else together later…”

hyunjin blinks. he wants to be swallowed up whole right now. felix is here. “i- uh…”

“hey, sorry, i don’t want us to just be hooking up… it’s hard to get past your management,” you hum, “let’s stay in contact. i liked talking to you, yeah we had fun but i like hearing your stories.”

hyunjin swallows, “ah yeah… me too, um, i could fight something out for us.”

“i’ll give you my personal number,” you offer, “just for you.”

you’re a lot closer now. he looks down at your lips, “okay, i’d like that.”

“awesome, good to know we’re on the same page.” you chuckle. “wanna wish me good luck on the stage?”

hyunjin can’t help but give you a look, “you don’t need luck, y/n.” he leans in and pecks your lips, “a kiss yes, but luck?”

you’re quite taken aback, really. yet, you grin, “yeah, i need you more.”

“ah, my teammate is here,” he ushers, panicked.

“ah,” you laugh. “okay then, one more kiss will do just fine.”

hyunjin’s heart could practically leap out of his chest.

and he kisses you, arms around your neck. he doesn’t want to let go, but with how sweet you’re being, he knows he’ll see you a lot sooner again. the hug you give him feels so good, he wishes you two had more time.

later, when you win an award. the words that come out of your mouth makes him want to die then and there.

“-and i also want to thank that person that gave me a good luck charm before coming here. i was good with just that but now having this award it feels like i have it all, thank you all for supporting me until now! i hope you continue to support me!”

felix’s side eye is something hyunjin might never live down.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Pretzel Chocolate

Hi guys!

This is a request I add some days ago, I know it kind of the same background as @alessiasfreckles current story. But I asked her before and she kindly accepted it. So thanks to her too ♥ (Go check her work, it really is amazing)

It's a little less sweet that what I usually write with Wally, but I hope you will like it.

TW : Accident, Loss memory, Angst but happy ending

______________________________________________________________

Clearly, you didn’t expect that when you innocently get in your team’s bus back to London. Like your girlfriend Lia, you’re a footballer and that’s how you got to know each other. You quickly fell in love with the Swiss girl and after some very disturbing flirting attempts on your part, Lia saved you from humiliation by asking yourself for a date. You agreed and the rest is history.

You were sleeping peacefully in the front of the bus when the accident happened. Most of your teammates had gathered in the back for a wild game cards, allowing you to catch up on your sleep peacefully. Over time, you get used to falling asleep with Mackenzie’s Australian-sounding curses when she loses, Kristie’s happy exclamations, or Katrina’s laugh.

You have no memory of the accident, you don't know why and how the driver ran straight into a pole, throwing you out of your seat under the violence of the shock and putting you at the top of the list of wounded with a vital emergency when help arrived.

Lia was at a team bonding and will remember perfectly when Mackenzie called Caitlin shortly after the accident, in shock of what had just happened. She will remember the blood that suddenly left her ex-girlfriend’s face and the horrified look she gave her. She will also remember that she needed to be told things three times so that the information was anchored in her brain and that Leah was more reactive than her, taking her to the London hospital where you were having your operation at that moment.

She will also remember the relief of learning that you are alive, but the distress of not knowing when and if you will wake up. Nor in what state. But she will also remember the unfailing support of Leah and Lotte who kept her company in the waiting room for hours.

********

When you regain consciousness, the first thing you face is a blinding light that make you close your eyes again quickly. You hear different beeps around you, whispers of voices and the sound of a chair being dragged on the floor that makes you open your eyes instinctively.

You are this time facing the faces of several people, who look at you attentively. One of them is dressed all in white, a man of about fifty years certainly who slowly approaches you by looking at you carefully.

"Can you hear me?"

You nod, bitterly regretting your gesture when your vision is blurred and a pain awakens in your skull. You wince and moan in pain, your eyes flickering when one of the two women in the room takes your hand in hers. She seems to be on the verge of a panic attack or passing out.

"Where am I?" you ask, difficulty articulating.

"At the hospital in London. You had a traffic accident two weeks ago. Do you remember?"

"No…" you frown, searching your mind for any information.

"It’s normal" the doctor assures you with a smile, noting a few words on his notepad "Can you tell me today’s date?"

As he looks up at you, he must feel the fear that begins to take hold of you. The hand on yours tightens around yours, but you are quickly diverted from this by the professional who talks again.

"What year are we?"

This time, you're way more scared. You know nothing about it. You are unable to be even close to the reality.

"It doesn’t matter, everything is fine. Tell me the closest memory of today that you have.”

"I…"

It’s the nothingness in your memory. You turn your brain upside down, without being able to get anything out of it.

From the corner of your eye, you see the two women exchanging a look, without you being able to understand what it's about. And, when you realize that you cannot give your own identity, it's panic that takes hold of you.

A few hours later, you finally come to yourself again. After your panic attack, the doctor gave you a sedative that sent you into the clouds. You come back to yourself, but your memory is still lacking, despite all the different stimuli tried by the doctors. Aside from getting annoyed and tired, it doesn’t change anything. And it's finally when one of the two unknowns women asks them dryly to leave you alone that it stops. You are grateful to her, you hope that the look you cast at her speaks for you.

You have no memory of your love life, your past, your present or your family. The doctors warned your parents who came immediately, apparently not living very far from London. You learned in the meantime that the two young women in the room are respectively called Lia and Leah, the pronunciation being the same, it confused you a few seconds. But when the brunette mumbled that she was nicknamed Wally, you decided to go for it too. You found out you were friends, Leah showed you some pictures to prove it.

Other friends came to visit you, including Mackenzie who came with a photo album so you could list the people who mattered to you. Lia is very often at your side, discreet, almost mute. You’ve noticed that her eyes get wet sometimes and then she apologizes before leaving your room in hurry.

"She cares about you and is worried" Mackenzie answered kindly at your questions.

"I think I care about her too, even if I don't remember. Seeing her sad make me sad" you mumble.

Mackenzie smiles at you, squeezing your hand in hers. She was in the accident as well and only got out with a slight concussion. Most of the players (you learned that you were a professional footballer) got away without serious injuries. There's only you.

You learned that you play football, like most people who come to see you at the hospital. And you’re playing pretty well. You play for West Ham but also in the England national team and you even won the Euro in 2022. Unfortunately, you are without a screen for many more weeks. So, Lia came back to see you once with photos of the event. You pose there beside Leah and other people who also came to see you. Beth, Alessia, Lotte and many others.

But you don’t remember that either.

********

Staring at the clock on the walls of your room, you wait for time to pass. Leah and Wally are supposed to come see you and you can’t help but feel some excitement at the thought. You appreciate when Lia comes to see you, she is calm, gentle and always very attentive to your needs. You seemed close before your accident and it’s probably stupid since she’s in a relationship with Leah, but you want to find back the bond you had.

"Hi there!" cheers Leah, entering your room soon after.

She carries Swiss chocolate and some flowers. She put the old ones in the trash to put the new ones on the table. You look at her, lying in your bed, a little bit tired. You had exercises to try to have your memories back all the afternoon, but it didn't go well.

"Thank you, Leah" you answer, slightly smiling. "Are you alone? Where is your girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend?"

Leah frown, looking at you. You frown too, you know you have a bad memory, but you saw both interact together.

"Well... Wally?"

"Wally? She's not my girlfriend" Leah laughs. "She's one of my best friends though."

"Oh... I thought... You look close."

You shrug your shoulders and you see Leah sitting on the chair next to your bed, tilting her head on the side while looking at you.

"We are. But in a friendly way"

She smiles at you and you smile back. You feel like she want to ask you something but didn't. You don't have anything to remember, so you try to work on your intuition to guess things. And you usually are very good at this. But you didn't insist, something else coming in your head anyway.

"We... We only were friends, you and me right?"

"Yes" laughs Leah "Don't get me wrong, you're very cute but..."

There is no but, because Wally is entering the room at this moment. She looks at Leah with a special gaze, making the blonde looking a little bit uneasy.

"Hi" you say, trying to dismiss the tension you don't understand.

Lia's eyes are coming on you and her face softened, giving you a small smile.

"Hi Y/N"

Her accent is special, you asked her where she's from the other day and learn that she's from Switzerland. After that, you asked one nurse what Switzerland looks like and she came back with a travel-themed magazine, the principal subject being Switzerland this month. You didn't ask Lia if you already went there, sometimes she looks so sad about your situation that you want to cry too.

She comes to kiss your cheek, before giving you the chocolate Leah was caring.

"Swiss chocolate. It's your favorite."

You look at the package with curiosity, turning it in your hands. Milk chocolate with pretzel in it.

Your loved ones have been instructed to give you secondary information about your tastes, preferences or things you like. But they must not give you information that you have not looked for yourself before. That’s why you don’t know anything about your love life, some of your past too.

You remembered some things, like how you hate artichokes so much or what your bedroom looked like when you were a teenager. Maybe you should have left this information behind when you think about the number of posters of all kinds that covered your wallpaper.

After hesitating, you open the tablet to take a square and eat it. It's not surprising that it's your favorite, the flavor is exceptional. As you enjoy your chocolate, a picture dances before your eyes. A living room with a fireplace located right next to a TV. The wooden floor is light and there is a coffee table between the sofa and the TV.

"Do I have a fireplace in my house?"

Leah and Lia exchange a look, and it's finally Leah who answers you with a little sorry smile.

"No, you live in an apartment.”

"Oh…"

You sigh softly, a little disappointed. You don’t realize that in Lia’s eyes looking at you, there’s hope for the first time since your accident. You strive to engrave this vision in your mind to forget as little as possible.

Lia sitting next to you, you instinctively seek her hand, mixing your fingers with hers. You realized a few days ago that the feeling soothes you and since Lia doesn't seem disturbed by this kind of gestures, you don't deprive yourself of it.

********

"Did Lia come to see you?"

You look up at Alessia, who has come to keep you company for the day. Her eyes are placed on the chocolate bar opened on your bedside table and a smile decorates her lips. Apparently, your chocolate tastes seem to be known to everyone.

"Yeah, she was here earlier with Leah."

You repost the crossword book that Alessia brought you, as well as some Spanish specialties received by Lucy, with whom you also play in the national team. You are apparently close to her too, but since she plays in another country and you aren't allowed to use electronic devices now, you haven't been able to exchange much. She wrote you several letters though, telling you about her dog, her love life and her life in Barcelona. That’s probably what you’re talking about when you call. It took you several days to answer something in writing, your concentration being still difficult sometimes. But you managed to do it.

"I thought they were together. Lia and Leah"

Alessia looks at you with an expression that mixes surprise, tenderness and fun.

"Many fans thought they were together before they denied the rumors. You remembered Leah’s ACL, right?" asks Alessia before continuing when you answer positively "Lia was very present for Leah at that time. I guess it brought them closer."

You nod thoughtfully, playing mechanically with the pen you always have in your fingers. You did remember Leah’s injury, which kept her away from the World Cup you apparently competed in last summer. You have a few images in mind, like kangaroos you saw with Ella or a laugh when Mary showed you a video of Alessia traumatized by a turkey.

You miss those moments we stole from you, and you can’t remember them. It’s frustrating and it makes you very sad sometimes. You wish you could get your life back, but it’s not working right now. Your parents come to see you regularly and show you photo albums of you as a child, with your brother and cousins. You seem to be numerous and you seem to be in the youngest of this generation.

"You’ll remember, Y/N" Alessia says gently, putting a hand on your knee.

You give her a little smile before you nod. Yes, you will remember. You have no choice.

********

Several things have been put in place to help you regain your memory. You have a medical treatment to take every day, you have psychotherapy and hypnosis sessions and you also have a sports routine to respect. This last thing isn't a bad idea since you are a professional footballer and if you want to get your life back, you must stay fit enough.

Sometimes you are accompanied by one of your friends, and today it is Mackenzie who helps you to return to your room. No release date has been given to you, but according to your doctors it will not be long. You don't know where you will go however, it has been highly recommended to you not to live alone for the moment. You didn’t have the guts to ask anyone. You would like to ask Lia if she would accept to host you for a while, but for a reason that you cannot determine you retreat every time you are about to ask her the question. And it’s been a few days now.

So, you are fucked up when the doctor comes back to see you in the room after your shower while you and Mackenzie watch a game on television.

"Did you find someone to have you when you left the hospital?" asks the doctor.

You feel yourself blushed and you see Macca’s face turning in your direction.

"Um… Mackenzie, I haven’t asked you this yet, but if you’re okay, I thought about you?"

Just a beautiful liar.

"Oh… yes, of course. I thought… whatever. Of course, my guest room is at your disposal."

"Thank you" you answer with a slight smile.

The next day, when Lia comes to see you and you tell her that you are going to settle for a while with Mackenzie, it would be hard not to see her face fall. You don’t understand the pinch in the heart that it makes you, but she recovers quickly, making sure that she is very happy to learn that you are better.

"Will you keep coming to see me? At Macca's?" you ask, almost timidly.

A few seconds pass during which she looks at you intensely, before nodding.

"Of course. If you feel like it"

"It would make me very happy."

She smiles at you, but with that sad smile that doesn't reach her eyes, before diverting your attention to the newspaper she brought you. You listen to her read you the latest news and you decide to offer yourself a new square of chocolate that Lia brought you, that you save with precious care. Barely in your mouth, you feel a new image coming before your eyes, pushing Lia’s voice in the background.

You’re in the same living room with the fireplace and the TV is on this time. There is a presence beside you and you hear a laugh, a laugh that gives you a strange sensation in the hollow of your belly. When you open your eyes, Lia doesn’t seem to have noticed anything. But these images caused a question in your mind and you interrupt the reading of the Swiss.

"Lia?"

"Yes?"

The brunette raises the nose of the newspaper with a curious air, looking at you attentively.

"I just… don’t take this question for what it isn’t, but I’ve never heard you laugh since you came to see me."

"It’s not really a question" ended up answering Lia after long seconds of silence.

She’s not wrong and you bite your lip, looking for the best way to put your point of view in a better light.

"I just don’t want you to feel obligated to come here, if it weighs on you. I love your presence here, but if it’s too heavy for you…"

"No. It’s important for me to come and see you."

Your eyes cross for a few moments and you only see sincerity in the green eyes of your interlocutor. You end up smiling and holding out a hand that she doesn’t hesitate to grasp. Only then do you notice the ring she’s wearing on her finger. It’s not an engagement ring, but the kind of ring you get for duck fishing at the fair. You find it strange that Lia is wearing something that is quite suitable for children.

"What is this ring?" you ask curiously.

It reminds you something, but you feel like you’re looking for a needle in a fog. Lia seems to have understood, since she looks at you briefly before answering you.

"What do you think?"

You bite your lip, searching again and again. Lia gives you time and unlike the exercises you do for your memory, you feel no pressure. Lia exudes kindness and the way her thumb caresses the back of your hand helps you a lot.

"I gave it to you."

You leave the ring colored rainbow to focus your eyes on Lia whose face is suddenly radiant. You don’t remember all the details, but you do remember the decor around you when you take out this plastic ring from its paper packaging. And of your insistence on putting it on Lia’s finger, the latter accepting not without rolling her eyes.

"Yes, it’s you" confirms Lia in a soft voice despite the excitement that seems to have gripped her.

"I don’t remember when it was" you mumble in an apology tone.

Meanwhile, Lia got up from her chair to sit on the mattress of your bed, on which you are sitting too. She always have her smile, a real smile this time. And when she affectionately passes her hand through your hair, you feel like butterflies in the hollow of your belly.

"It doesn’t matter" Lia gently says "It will come back. I know it."

You want to kiss her suddenly. You wonder what sensations her lips might give you. But, before you can answer this urge, knocks are made at the door of your room, letting in Katrina, Clara and Harper.

"I’ll leave you with your new guests" decides Lia.

You’re having a hard time covering up your disappointment, even though you’re happy to see Harper.

"I’ll see you tomorrow before we leave for Manchester." Lia informs you before putting a kiss on your head.

********

"Why does Lia looked sad when I told her I was going to live with Mackenzie?"

You are walking Leah Mom's dog with Leah, during a rather cloudly afternoon. You doctor asked you to stay in shape and because you're not ready to go back to training, you do as much as you can to move. You go to the stores walking and your coach sent you bodybuilding and endurance exercises to do every day.

Leah looked at you for some seconds, before answering you. You know you were friends before your accident, but you don't know if you talked to the other a lot. Still, you feel safe with her. You know you can talk to her.

"I feel like you already know the answer for this question."

You bite your lip, looking at Bella running after ducks. And Leah running after Bella soon after, trying to protect those poor ducks. When the blonde come back next to you like nothing happened, she pats your arm.

"Talk to her. Wally really cares about you and I'm sure she misses you"

"She said she will still come to see me. But she never came" you mumble, without looking at Leah.

You don't understand. You thought you were close and Lia's absence made you realize that you maybe have like a crush on her. Which is stupid, why in the world would she have interest in someone broken like you are? But you still miss her.

"She's going to kill me for saying that" Leah sighs, pinching the base of her nose, before looking at you "She thinks you are developing feelings for Macca. Like romantic feelings"

"What?! That's the stupidest thing I ever heard since my accident."

Well of course Mackenzie is sweet and you understand why she was your best friend before and you really like the idea that you can still have that after all that. Of course, you don't know her like Caitlin or Alanna does, but of all your teammates, she's the one you’re closest to.

Leah shrugs and call Bella to going back home.

"Like I said, talk to her."

You hum for any answer, your hands stuck in the pockets of your jogging and the brain turning a thousand an hour. It’s only after saying goodbye to Leah on her doorstep that you realize that it doesn’t explain why Lia would stop seeing you if you were really in love with Mackenzie.

She’s watching a movie with her own girlfriend when you come back home. Since they have been waiting for you to eat, you sit at the table with them and try to stay focused on the discussion, but your mind is elsewhere. You are relieved to have the opportunity to find the calm of the guest room, in which you decide to offer yourself a new piece of chocolate offered by Lia.

You were disappointed to find that no other square allowed you to remember other things as the first two times. This is the last squares you have left; you will have at worst the excuse to want extra chocolateif you need excuse to contact Lia.

Lying on your back, on your bed, you swallow the last chocolate crumbs you have left, your eyes fixed on the ceiling.

But, while you don’t expected more, a new flash comes dancing before your eyes.

The same living room, the same television, the same fireplace and the same laugh. Except this time when you turn your head, Lia is sitting next to you. She looks much happier than you’ve seen her since you opened your eyes. And the way she looks at you… Like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

When the image dissipates, you blink several times.

You remember.

Not necessarily in every detail and in order, but you remember.

You remember Lia, how much you hate that nickname of Wally that others give her, your relationship, your first kiss and the long weekend she took you to Switzerland.

You remember.

Your hands shaking, you’re getting out of bed. You’re as wrinkled as if you’d been running a whole game. Other memories are jostling in your head, but the only thing you want now is to go see Lia.

"I’m going to Lia's!" you shout at Mackenzie down the stairs.

You barely take the time to throw your coat on your shoulders before going out and slamming the door. When you see the rain falling on London, you congratulate yourself.

********

It’s with frowns that Lia picks up her phone some time later. There’s basically no reason for Caitlin to call her so late.

"Hello?"

"Lia? It’s Caitlin… Listen, I’m calling you from Mackenzie, she doesn’t have your phone number and uh… Did Y/N make it to your house?"

"Y/N? No? Why would she be at my house?"

Other voices are audible behind Caitlin and there are different noises before Mackenzie’s voice sounds in the phone.

"She left my house almost two hours ago, without her phone, telling me she was coming to your house."

"She’s not here" Lia replies, standing abruptly on her couch, feeling panic take hold of her. "Why did you let her go by herself?"

"I thought she ordered an Uber or something. But without her phone…"

"Do we call the police?" asks Lia.

"They will laugh in our faces" replies Katie’s voice, which is apparently there too.

It’s not surprising if Mackenzie went to see Caitlin. But this is probably not the time to ask these questions.

"I’ll go get my car and do some research in the neighborhood" Lia decides.

After deciding to do the same and giving herself directions not to turn in the same places, Caitlin and Lia hang up their phones before starting to look for you.

For your part, it’s not very glorious. Persuaded to find the way back to Lia’s house now that your memory has returned, you have dug into the streets without thinking too much. Except that you suddenly had a hesitation, then another and a third, which eventually led you to no longer know where you are. Or where you’re from.

To top it off, it’s still raining and you haven’t taken your medication to fight your chronic headaches since the accident.

Long story short, you are now in tears, sitting on a sidewalk of an unknown street, in the rain.

Finally, while she had lost hope, Lia sees your silhouette sitting out in the light of a lamppost. Her cry asking Leah, who came to the rescue, to stop, gives her a start of cardiac arrest. But the blonde obeys and Lia hurries out of the car, running in your direction.

You jump suddenly when someone sits next to you, your first reaction being to get as far away from that person as possible. But you realize quite quickly that it’s Lia and anyway she doesn’t leave you much choice by squeezing you suddenly in her arms. Hard.

“God, are you ok? What happened?” Lia asks, taking your face between her hands to look at you.

“I thought I can remember where you live, I needed to see you but then I got lost and I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“Why didn’t you call me?!”

Lia raised her voice a little and you flinch, but the Swiss woman seems to regret it as soon as it happened. She takes you once again against her, her arms firmly tightened around your body. It makes you feel safe. You’re tired, exhausted to be honest. But you know you still owe her an explanation.

“I wasn’t sure you will take my call. You said you will come to see me, and you didn’t even if I’m at Macca’s since almost two weeks now, and…”

“I’m so sorry” Lia cut you, looking at you with tears in her eyes. “But I just… I couldn’t.”

“It’s ok” you breath before staring deep into her eyes “I remember.”

A silence passes. Lia is looking at you, too.

“What?”

“I remember. My past, my childhood memories. It’s you who have a fireplace in your living room. I remember you, mein Schatz. I remember us.”

After that, it went a little chaotic. When Lia starts to cry for good, Leah almost gets out of her car, but then she see you both kiss and she understands. She takes her phone to ring Caitlin and let you some minutes before taking you both back in her car. She drops you at Lia’s, giving you one big hug before leaving you.

********

Hours later, you’re in Lia’s bed after a good hot shower. Lia gave you some fresh clothes and you can’t stop smelling them. They smell like her, like your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend who is actually looking at you like you will disappear at any moment. You can’t blame her though, so you just grab her hand and take her against you to kiss her.

“Why didn’t you tell me everything?” you mumble after the kiss.

“They didn’t want me to. They said it would be too much for you or that you won’t remember everything if we told you the truth. Your brother fights with the doctors against it, but he didn’t have the last word. I should have fight against it too, but I wanted what was the best for you, and they were the doctors, so…”

Lia shrugs, her head on the cushion, still looking at you. You can’t imagine what she went through.

“It must have been so hard for you” you whisper, stroking lightly at her face

“It was. But I knew I had to do if I wanted to have you back at some point. But then after you choose to go to Mackenzie’s and I kind of freak out. What if, even if you remember in some days, you realize that you’re in love with her and not me anymore?”

“I don’t. She always had been my friend, nothing more. It has always been you, since we crash your team” you add with a smirk.

You met Lia during a friendly game between Switzerland and England in 2022. Leah Williamson had made the presentation between you and since then you never stop talking. She asked you on a date after two weeks of texting, you said yes and everything went great since then. Even if you’re a West Ham player dating an Arsenal one.

“I thought you were with Leah, the first days after the accident” you confess at your girlfriend.

Lia frown, looking at you oddly.

“Why did you?”

“Dunno. You were like always together, but I understand now. I’m glad Leah was there for you.”

You are confident in your relationship. Even if the fans seems to like Lia and Leah together, you trust your girlfriend and your friend deeply. Plus, you’re kind of a fan of their friendship. Maybe people would find strange that your girlfriend went to live with another girl like Lia have done when Leah was injured, but you didn’t. You know how good Lia’s heart is.

“I love you” Lia whispers, before kissing you.

You smile against her lips and she doesn’t let you the time to answer before kissing you once again, hard this time. You let her. You still can tell her how much you love her later.

_________________________________________________

It’s way longer than I thought at first 😅

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops. 

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon. 

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away. 

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it. 

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs. 

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door. 

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening. 

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting. 

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over. 

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless. 

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes. 

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak. 

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body. 

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them. 

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes. 

“This seat taken?” 

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides,  and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best. 

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup. 

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited. 

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls. 

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat. 

“Name’s Spade, by the way.” 

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction. 

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage. 

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.” 

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it. 

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away. 

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?” 

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you. 

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun. 

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket. 

“Fuck it.” 

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects. 

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces. 

Three down, eight to go. 

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd. 

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies. 

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip. 

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife. 

“Wanna get reacquainted?” 

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” 

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase. 

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck. 

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground. 

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you.  His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up. 

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm. 

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you. 

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money. 

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip. 

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[tteokdoroki]

hi my beloved angel could i pls request shinsou + ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ :33

☆༉ — HITOSHI SHINSOU: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜

extension. edging kink + fem!reader + nsfw.

things to note. for you my baby!! i hope u like heeem n that i characterised him well!!

it’s not your fault, really. 

usually you’re so obedient and good when it comes to hitoshi — he takes care of your needs as long as you behave and listen to him. with him, you cum as many times as you want, cry as loud as you want and your boyfriend will always make sure that you’re satisfied by the end. you’re spoiled in a sense. but today, shinsou seems keen on undoing that narrative. 

you’ve lost count of how many hours he’s been going at this, fucking just the tip of his girth into you at a painstakingly slow rate — you’ve tried everything, throwing it back on him, your usual whining, even grovelling, but the hero won’t budge. each time, he runs a hand down your spine affectionately and cherishes the way that your whole body shivers at the contact — only whispering a short.

“be patient, angel,” he says in that low, commanding voice of his. “don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

and of course you do, you love hitoshi so much and he treats you so well. it’d only be right for you to trust him, let him abuse your runny little hole with the the fat, achingly hot tip of his dick until he’s the one that’s satisfied. he pushes his hips forward, only just, breaching your gushing walls with hardly any resistance because you’re so wet from being teased but being spoiled all the time breeds bad habits and keeping you on the very edge of cumming like this. 

secretively, you slip one of your hands between your salt-slicked body and the bed sheets hitoshi has you bent over, brushing over your rock hard nipples and the sensitive spots along your pelvis before you’re able to reach your puffy pussy. it’s hard to keep quiet when you’re finally able to graze your the poor, unattended nub tucked between your slick folds — drawing lazy shapes over it just like hitoshi would do for you. you attempt to choke down a delicate whimper, stuffing your teary face into the cotton to muffle the louder sounds that start to escape you. 

“you sound so needy,” hitoshi breathes, placing a large hand on the small of your back to deepen your arch from behind. he rewards you, for sounding so pretty, he really can’t help it either — giving into his habit as he fucks you halfway down to his twitching length, his arousal bleeding rip nestled just inches shy from your gummy g-spot. “being so good ‘n patient, angel. love it when you’re like this. all pliant and desperate for some cock.” 

you wail in reply, writhing and wriggling for more — only to be forced into pleasuring yourself, pinching and rubbing at your clit in tune with shinsou’s shallow thrusts past your rippling entrance. he soothes you, rubbing circles into your hip dips as he whispers little praises like “just a little longer. “you’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” “i can’t wait until i get to fill you up.” 

that is until he feels your sly little hand brush against this muscular inner thigh, while you attempt to get yourself off. one moment, you’re on the verge of finally hitting release, the next, all of that mounting and heavenly pleasure is ripped away from you by hitoshi’s discovery.

“toshi!” you snivel desperately, trying to appeal to his gentler side when he pulls out of you completely — exposing your hot cunt to cool air as you pulse around nothing. “p-please, please ‘m sorry!” 

he sucks his teeth, three fingers coming down harsh on your sopping mound which causes you to jolt forward on the bed in suprise. “oh, I don’t think you are.”  he seethes cruelly, throwing his weight over your trembling body while he licks a wet trail up and behind your ear. “if you were, you wouldn’t be trying to fuck yourself while i’m spoiling you with my cock.” 

okay, so maybe it is your fault. 

shaking your head, you try to wriggle away — your hips running from the sudden and relentless pressure shinsou applies to your greedy clit from behind. “i p-promise! i am, ‘m so sorry. hnngh, ‘toshi ‘m gonna cum! t-too fast!” 

“don’t care.” the purple haired hero grunts, only speeding up. “you wanted to cum so bad? instead of being a good girl and waiting for me?” nipping at your earlobe, shinsou chuckles coyly and smacks a hand down on your pussy again. “now you’re complaining about it being too fast? well too fucking bad. you get what you give, angel.” 

shinsou’s threat should scare you, but it only serves to turn you on even more — clear streams of your arousal painting his thick fingers against your heat like a sugar glaze. 

“d-do it, i dare you.” you manage to bleat out, challenging him. 

the laugh your boyfriend lets out is both cold and amused, overlapped by the squelch of your princess cunt as he replaces what used to be his heavy cock with his fingers inside of you. curling them straight away. 

“challenge accepted, sweetheart.” shinsou grins, pumping in and out of you so fast you hardly realise that you’ve hit your first orgasm until it’s too late — squirting about the place and soaking the sheets. “but this time, you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[shitsndgiggs]

hey! i hope you still take requests, uf not just ignore this hahahhahah

i was wondering if you could do a pretty sad scenario where kenan and his s/o have been together for quite a while but one day they have a huge fight and y/n says that she’s done with him (or something like that) and leaves so he thinks that she broke up with him. but in the end it’s really fluffy.

NEVER LET YOU GO - KENAN YILDIZ

An argument leads to Kenan thinking that you broke up with him

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The argument had been brewing for days, little things building up until they finally exploded into a full-blown fight. Kenan and I had never fought like this before.

We’d had disagreements, sure, but this… this was different. This was ugly, filled with harsh words and frustration.

“I can’t do this right now, Kenan,” I snapped, grabbing my keys off the table. My heart was pounding, the anger and hurt mixing into a whirlwind of emotions. “I’m done.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final. Kenan’s eyes widened, his face draining of color as he watched me storm towards the door.

“Wait, what does that mean?” His voice cracked, and I could hear the panic laced in his words.

I didn’t answer, too caught up in my own frustration. I needed to get out, to clear my head before I said something even more hurtful.

Without another word, I walked out the door, slamming it behind me. The sound echoed in my ears as I rushed to my car, the cold night air doing little to calm the storm inside me.

I started driving, not really knowing where I was going. I just needed to be away, to breathe and think without the suffocating tension between us.

But as the minutes passed and the distance between us grew, the anger began to ebb, replaced by a gnawing guilt.

I hadn’t meant to make it sound like I was breaking up with him. I just needed some space, a moment to cool down.

But as I replayed the argument in my head, I realized how it must have sounded to Kenan—like I was leaving him for good.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen. Kenan’s name flashed across it, the little icon indicating he was calling. I sighed, knowing I wasn’t ready to talk yet, and let it go to voicemail.

But then it buzzed again. And again. Each time, my heart clenched a little more, the guilt settling deeper in my chest.

Finally, after what felt like the hundredth call, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I pulled over to the side of the road, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Kenan…”

“Y/N,” he breathed out, his voice trembling. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and my heart broke a little at the sound. “Please… please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. Just… please come back.”

“Kenan, I’m not—” I started to explain, but he cut me off, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“I’ll do anything, just don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t lose you, please. I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Just please, Y/N, don’t leave me like this.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and I could hear the tears in his voice. My heart twisted painfully in my chest, the anger completely gone now, replaced by an overwhelming urge to comfort him.

“Kenan, I’m not leaving you,” I said gently, trying to keep my own voice steady. “I just needed some space. I’m coming back, okay? I’m coming home.”

“Really?” His voice was so small, so filled with hope and fear, it made my eyes sting with unshed tears. “You’re really coming back?”

“Yes, Kenan,” I assured him, already starting to turn the car around. “I’m on my way back right now.”

There was a long pause, and I could hear him trying to control his breathing, trying to keep himself together.

When he spoke again, his voice was still shaky, but there was a softness to it now, a tenderness that made my heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered back, my voice thick with emotion. “We’ll talk when I get back, okay? We’ll figure this out together.”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. “Just… hurry, please. I need to see you.”

“I’m on my way,” I promised, hanging up and driving as quickly as I could without breaking the speed limit.

When I finally pulled into the driveway, Kenan was already outside, pacing nervously. The moment he saw my car, he rushed over, opening the door before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt.

As soon as I stepped out, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly it was like he was afraid I’d slip away if he loosened his grip even a little. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the tension slowly drain out of both of us.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into my hair, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much. Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I love you too, Kenan,” I whispered back, my voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes red and puffy, but filled with so much love and relief that it took my breath away.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips, and I could feel the desperation in it, the need to prove that we were still okay, that we still had each other.

When we finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.

“I was so scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t,” I assured him, reaching up to gently cup his face in my hands. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re okay.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “I’ll do better, Y/N. I’ll be better for you.”

“We’ll both be better,” I said softly, brushing a tear away from his cheek.

[pandorasfavorite]

HIII I LOVE YOUR FICS!!!!

Now I saw the "kiss" between Dom and Liv, so I was wondering if you could make a fic between a subby bratty dom and a dom reader where the reader is watching backstage and gets really jealous, so when he comes back, she ignores him for a while, but then when they get home, she punishes him and there's like A LOT of smut!!!!! 😽😽

like SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!!

"Thank you Emma" we all say in unison

Buried by Eyes

AN: we are gonna pretend he isn’t injured for the sake of the fic, also just know guys I love writing but it's just hard to do. I have two jobs so I'm trying to find time, but I can write the part two for this. its 1am

Jealously was one word for it, another 3 words for it was heartbreak, anger, and determination. Your patience was wearing thin every passing day your fiance spent being a good person. His sweet tendencies were one of the main reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. Dominik has actively been trying to make sure that Rhea didn’t have to face Liv for the title; something you see as kind. But also the more he worked toward it the more jealous you became to be. Why would YOUR fiance be working so hard for a mere friend? Though tonight was a completely different story, for 5 minutes after the kiss you racked your brain for reasons. It continuously played in your head over and over like a never-ending record; he didn’t seem to enjoy it but he didn’t push her away. He grimaced and wiped his mouth… minutes afterward. Would she linger on his lips when you kissed him?

Dominik on the other hand was flipping out; he really didn’t know what to do or what to think when he came face to face with you in 60-something seconds. Dominik’s hands were twitching and he was continuously shaking his head after every fearful thought. Therefore when he turned the corner, he cussed instantly at your disgusted face and crossed arms. You had still been staring at the small screen in the hall, that was now playing something entirely different; Dom could only hope they wouldn’t replay the kiss over again.

Dominik huffed out an anxious breath and shook out the tension in his hands. He knew the only thing he could do at this moment was to man up and apologize INSTANTLY. Even that wasn’t going to be enough; Dominik would be stupid to think otherwise. Surprisingly enough your head didn’t turn at the sound of him walking towards you; or even when he was right in front of you. Your eyes bored into Dominik’s and you didn’t say a word; your face was hard to describe. You looked angry, but it also seemed like you were blank-faced and weren’t really registering that it was your fiance in front of you. Dominik cleared his throat and looked down at you, “Baby-“. Your eyes flashed with a ripple of anger, and it seemed like you finally grasped who it was in front of you.

You said nothing; Dominik literally gulped and his hands went right back to fidgeting. He shook his head and tried again, “Baby, I know what you’re thinking right now-“, he cut himself off again at your look. This time you smiled and nodded; that’s when Dominik realized how bad this really was. Before he thought maybe it wouldn’t have rattled you much; but the sarcastic and sinister smile deterred his thoughts elsewhere. You take a step back away from him, Dominik surely felt his heart crack. “Tell me, what am I thinking right now Dominik?”, you had used his real name and you looked so furious; Dom was almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Yet he was smart enough to know answering that question was a trap.

Dominik was at a loss for what to do; he could only think of one thing that could possibly humiliate him for the rest of his career. Of course, you were more important; Dominik sunk to his knees in front of you and grabbed your hands to hold in his. “I fucking hated that and I didn’t have time to react, I need you to believe me”. You nod and look into his eyes; searching for lies when really they were drowning in truth. “I believe you”, would be the only thing you say until you get home… 35 minutes later.

Dominik apologized nonstop on the way home and through the door, so much to you've grown tired of the words being uttered from his lips. You of course felt many confounding feelings, which brought a horrible tension between you and Dominik. You didn't want to be mad at him, considering he was unexpecting and didn't kiss her back. Though you were only human, and the anger pricked at you with every thought. Dominik opened the door for you; only to follow you like a sad puppy everywhere you walked. One smart idea graced your mind when you walked into the house...you had stormed into the bathroom and grabbed a rag out of the closet. You pulled Dominik inside by the collar of his shirt and you slammed the rag into his hands. "Scrub them", you demanded and crossed your arms over your chest.

Dominik was astonished, so much so that he gaped at you like a fish. "What?", he asked and looked down at the rag in confusion. You titled your head at his question, "Did I stutter? I said scrub your lips Dominik, or you'll never kiss mine again". Dominik understood you that time, he never moved so quickly in his life to wet the rag and scrub his lips clean; nearly raw. After a bit of time, Dominik put the rag and looked down at you, his lips were red and swollen from how harshly he was working towards getting rid of any traces of what happened. Really it was for him and you; Dom was disgusted by Liv, to say the least. He truly didn't want to be around her EVER again if he could help it. Therefore after scrubbing his lips, Dominik waited for your approval.

You stood and looked at him with a long silence; you debated the next course of action. Part of you knew Dom honestly did no wrong, but fuck LIv and fuck Dominik for being around her in the first place. No really fuck Dominik. You had taken a step towards him, you grabbed him by the chin and made him lean down closer so you could inspect him. Your thumb traced over his raw lips; trying to decide how pleased you were. "You have two options", Dominik's breath hitched, "come to bed or sleep on the couch".

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

"m' sorry baby, please please let me cum', Dominik lifted off the bed to slide his cock up against your hand, "I've been good"

"Have you? Cause what I seen earlier was far from it"

Dominik yanked on the restraints with pent-up frustration; if he kept that up surely he would break free, "I didn't ask for that shit" he gritted. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise and your mouth fell into shock, you stopped touching him completely. You saw his eyes starting to water but you were still ridden with what happened on live TV, therefore you didn't humor him. "Now you're cussing at me, should I have you wash your mouth out instead this time?", you commented.

Dominik panted harshly; seemingly whimpering and groaning at the same time, "No no baby I swear, I'm sorry I won't do it again- fuck just- touch me. Touch me I'm begging you, I've been waiting so long mami". Dominik withered in need, and the more time he spent under your feather-light touches; the more he realized how much he detested punishments. You dragged them out, each touch made his body feel as if it was bursting into flames and his heart rate picked up when you fluttered your lashes at him; no wonder he is starting to hyperventilate with the idea of cumming. You trailed your fingertips down the side of Dominik's jaw and cheek and down his chest, loving the way he tossed his head back harshly against the pillow with a groan; in a desperate needy manner that only you could see.

You finally started to stroke Dominik's leaking cock, tears began to pool in his eyes and slide down his cheek. You'd be worried for him if it wasn't so abundantly clear the tears were from relief, not sadness. Dominik was in his own hazy world of pleasure, already feeling the being of a crushing orgasm-- it was so intense to the point he was mumbling without reason. "that's it, just a little more sweet girl", he begged you when he wasn't in the position to be telling you anything. Next, he will be tirelessly eating you out, longer than he can stand.

[destinationtrekk]

i notice (when you're not around)

He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3

One

“Wesker speaking.” 

He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called. 

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?” 

You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-” 

“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you’re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him. 

“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-” 

He barks out your name, “Get to the point.” 

You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.” 

Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.” 

Two

You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker. 

“Wesker speaking.” 

You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for? 

He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?” 

You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?” 

You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?” 

He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.” 

He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-” 

“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.” 

You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened. 

“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.” 

You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.” 

You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him. 

You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night. 

Three

“Hello, dearheart.” 

“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.” 

That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-” 

“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”

“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.” 

“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.” 

He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-” 

You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.” 

He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.” 

You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.” 

“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.” 

The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen. 

Four 

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…” 

Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?” 

“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?” 

He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.” 

He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping. 

“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-” 

“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!” 

“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.” 

You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now. 

“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-” 

“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth. 

“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-” 

He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you. 

Five

“Hngh- what is it?” 

You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”

He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.” 

You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.” 

He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.” 

You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-” 

He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call. 

Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well. 

Plus One

You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.” 

He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.” 

You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.” 

He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-” 

“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.

[mosaickiwi]

(sorry for mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, please forgive me if my request sounds stupid, but can I ask for a fic about a beach day with Angel, who spent a long time in a closed hospital far from REDACTED and is now almost glued to him, not stopping to hug and caress even for 10 minutes (I ended up in a closed hospital and still can’t go outside or meet anyone myeh(￣へ￣)). Please forgive me>_<

Hii I hope you're getting better and/or doing okay! And ofc take your time recuperating if so 💖💖

This is longer than usual since a little part of your other request is mixed in!! 🤫 ⚠ DAY 4 SPOILERS if you squint perhaps?? Go play that first just in case.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Beach "Date"

The afternoon sun was beating down on the beach, but you didn't mind it at all. You were cool and content to relax under a wide umbrella. And of course, your dark haired hacker sat with you—as if he could ever leave your side. Their arms were secure around your form to keep you close. Both of you were happy to finally be reunited, far too absorbed in your own little world.

“If I have… another second of this—” you could barely hear Teo mutter something. The waves crashing on the shore were too loud to make out whatever he was saying clearly.

“Mate, switch sides with me already,” Leon sighed.

You happened to bump into the guys on a secluded area of the shore, and your oldest friend was keen on offering an impromptu hangout. He knew you didn’t feel well enough to do too much physically yet, so was content just to see your face. 

Teo and Leon were bouncing a volleyball back and forth with idle chatter—Jae occasionally chimed in from where Maple had buried his legs in the sand—while you watched from the sidelines. Unfortunately for Teo, he had a perfect view of you and [REDACTED] cuddling on a beach towel. 

Completely unaware of your annoyed audience, you laughed as your partner placed a slightly too loud kiss on your cheek. 

“‘Missed you a lot, Angel.” His hair tickled as he pressed his lips again and again to any patch of your bare skin.

You had to roll your eyes at his over the top affections. “Really? I think I missed you way more,” you teased him back. Turning in their embrace, you decided to smother them with a few chaste pecks of your own.

Their cool hands gently pulled you even closer, until you were perched in their lap with no chance of escape. He whispered something that had you on the verge of embarrassment, and you lightly smacked his chest in response. You moved to stand up. 

"We'll be back in a bit," you said as you led your partner away by the hand.

"Sure, darl'. Be careful," Leon shouted in response, more concentrated on the ball sailing towards him. Instead of sending it back, he caught it with a surprised grunt and frowned in Teo's direction.

The taller man mumbled something else to your childhood friend as you left.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Fifteen minutes later, after wading in shallow waters to splash a certain someone for his comments, you made your way back to shore to find all three of the guys playing, Maple running between them as the ball flew overhead.

[REDACTED] hurriedly bundled you up in a towel without a moment of concern for himself. His wet hair dripped over their shoulders and chest as he sat back down under the umbrella. Their bangs were practically glued over their eyes like a curtain.

You didn't even wait for him to settle in before claiming your place in his lap again. Despite their appearance—he may as well have been dunked in a tank from how much you splashed him—it felt cozy in his arms with the fluffy towel. He looked a little silly.

"You're like a wet cat," you hummed.

"Yeah? Whose fault is that?" Before you could answer, he shook his head, flinging droplets on you as you playfully yelled in surprise. Their scarred hand brushed through the black mop of their hair to push it out of his eyes. 

Your amused frown did nothing to deter him from leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. Well aware of the way his fingers drew familiar, soothing circles on your thigh, you kissed the corner of his mouth, then his lips for a long moment. Your cheeks felt warm from the adoring smile he held once you pulled back.

“Woah!” Jae’s sudden yell forced you to turn away, though you still clung to the man holding you. A ball and a golden yellow blur skidded past, kicking up sand right beside your umbrella.

The hacker quickly shielded you, though the towel kept most of it from even touching your skin. He dusted off what little sand was stuck to your still wet legs then looked up, eyes narrowing at whoever caused the commotion.

Teo stared back with an oddly smug expression while Jae ran after Maple. “Sorry, I can’t see much with the sun directly in front of me. My aim is pretty shit, too.”

“So’s your temper,” [REDACTED] muttered under their breath.

“What was that, buttercup?” Teo asked sarcastically. He rolled a shoulder and you realized all too late that he’d spiked the ball near you on purpose. You couldn't place why, exactly. It wasn't as if either of them had exchanged a word since you'd arrived.

“Y'got sand in your ears? I'll be glad t’come over there and say it again,” [REDACTED] almost stood up as they spoke, but holding onto you was more important to them. Teo still walked closer.

Leon got between them as fast as he could. “Hey, easy! No one got hurt, right?” he almost shouted. His gaze shifted between them before landing on you. “You okay, darl’? …Ren?”

“I'm fine,” you piped up, still surprised. It was a little shocking to hear your childhood friend voice concern for Ren as well. None of them had really warmed up to your partner yet.

You had to nudge him as a reminder to play nice.

“Great,” [REDACTED] answered, not even bothering to spare either of them a second glance. You put a hand on his back for good measure, and you could feel the tension in him already melting away from your touch.

Jae finally came back with Maple in tow, the ball in his hands and a large piece of driftwood in the retriever’s mouth as she pranced along. He broke the tension with ease. “Okayyy!! Maple kicked a lot of sand in my mouth digging up that stick. Sooo a quick break for drinks?”

The displeasure in Teo’s face didn't fade, but he still let the younger man drag him away to the pier. You could tell from the way Teo kicked up even more sand with each step that they’d take longer than a ‘quick break.’ 

Leon gave you an awkward, half-hearted smile in apology before jogging after the other two.

Once they were far enough away, you made a face at [REDACTED] as he played innocent with a shrug. There was no doubt in your mind now that he'd been trying to push Teo’s buttons. It was pointless to mention. 

He'd fawn all over you whether there was anyone around or not. He might’ve been a tiny bit less obnoxious about it, though.

You chose to take advantage of your newfound time alone and wrapped your arms around their neck. His blue eyes drew towards your friends far off on the pier for a moment, but you paid it no mind. There was a smirk on his lips just before he cupped your cheeks for another blatant display of affection.

[valley-of-headcanons]

hello!!! i just started following your blog recently and i love your headcanons :] !!

i wanted to request some headcanons about the farmer's first kiss with the bachelors and bachelorettes :3c (can be separate posts if needed! no rush <3)

maybe things like where and when it'll happen, if it's early on or later on in their relationship, if they even have a relationship yet when it does happen, etc. :0

thanks so much for reading this lol, and keep up the good work!!! <3

bachelors' first kiss with farmer || headcanons

sharing such a magical experience with your lover is better than you could've ever imagined! <3 part two here!

warning: alcoholism and self-hatred in shane's part (relapsing), a few kisses without explicit consent. guys, please learn some decency 🙄

requested by: anon! hi, so sorry for the late response! thank you for the request though, i deeply appreciate it! such a cute one too! :) i hope you enjoy, because i had a ton of fun writing it! part two will be out eventually :)

alex

• Alex wouldn't wait to kiss you, to be honest. It would essentially be right after a love confession, even before you two start officially dating. He's too overjoyed with the fact that you actually feel the same about him, and he really wants to show you. After dinner and the saloon, the night he confessed to you, he walked you home like the true gentleman he is. As he walked you to your dimly like doorstep, he held your hand for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that he didn't want to leave yet, or ever.

• He took a deep breath before softly taking both of your hands in his. “Can I give you a goodnight kiss? Even if it's on the cheek, I don't mind. I want to make sure you're comfortable ... but I also want to make you feel loved. Whatever you're comfortable with is perfectly fine,” he said with a nervous smile. The soft glow of your porch light illuminated you so perfectly, he didn't want to lose this picture of you. You're so perfect in his eyes.

• After you let him know that it was okay to kiss you, he slowly rested his hands on your waist in the most respectful manner he could. Once he noticed you were okay with it, he slowly leaned into your lips. The kiss felt like sparks flew across your yard. It was soft but the passion behind it wasn't concealed. The fast heartbeat in both of your chests sounded like a metronome on the verge of short-circuiting. It was so, so lovely.

elliot

• Elliott and patience doesn't seem to pair well. Did we really expect him to wait very long? In all seriousness, it would probably be before the actual confession. He wouldn't do it unless he saw reciprocating signs, of course. You two were relaxing on the beach one night, watching the dark waves under the moonlight. The conversation was deeply poetic and romantic, explaining life's mysteries with metaphors and similes like it was just common knowledge.

• “The moon and the sun are so distant from each other, but they're nothing without the other. The moon wouldn't have its light, the sun would have nothing to show its light to. But once in a lifetime, they eclipse each other for just a moment ... do you think that this moment is an eclipse? You, the sun, and I, the moon? ... I find the idea quite enchanting ...” he said, his eyes tracing your face.

• He locks eyes with you, analyzing your expression with everything he can. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it against your own, almost like a test. When you don't pull away and instead move closer, that's when he knows. He leans into you slowly, so that if you want to pull away, you can. You don't. Your lips connect like the waves crashing on the shore beside you; the moon's heart strings are certainly tied to the ocean. Strong but calming, pulling you deeper and deeper. What a way to end a beautiful night.

harvey

• Harvey wouldn't kiss you until you're in a relationship, and it might take a while. He wanted to make it special! He's so unsure about the romantic aspect of life since he's so stuck in his work. So, he decided to make it special! He invited you to the forest after dark, where he had set up a picnic blanket. Candles were all over the area, but you soon discovered that they were fake candles, because Harvey wouldn't be caught dead causing a forest fire. A nice meal was prepared, something Harvey cooked himself. This dinner was for your six month anniversary.

• He nervously asks, “So ... I-I know that this is our sixth month anniversary, and I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me?” You're surprised, but you oblige. He puts on some soft, slow-dance music and offers his hand. He's not very good, but he can sway. You notice the nervous look on face and the slight sweat on his hands as you dance below the stars. You ask what's wrong.

• “... would it be okay if I- ... uh ... kissed you?” Harvey asked with a small, nervous smile. He was so embarrassed, but when you gave a nod, he was over the moon. He cupped your cheek with his hand, staring into your starstruck eyes before leaning in. The kiss was so incredibly soft, sweet, and caring. It felt like you were lifted into the star-studded sky, laying gently on a cloud. It was beautiful and definitely worth the wait.

sam

• It wouldn't take Sam too long to kiss you. Maybe a week or two at most. He likes the romantic aspect of a relationship, but kissing is kissing in his eyes! It's not the most serious part in his opinion, but it's pretty cool, right? It would happen the night of his first concert with you two officially a couple. You stood at the edge of the stage, staring up to watch him perform. The crowd was small, but they were heavily enjoying the music. Specifically, the song he wrote for you.

• At the end of the night after the crowd goes home, you ran to hug him. You tell him how amazing the concert and how you feel about the song he wrote you. “I'm so glad you loved it! I wrote it a little while ago, back when I started crushing on you. It's a sweet little tune. We didn't really start composing the instruments and shit until I realized I was in love with you- ... oh fuck, I didn't- but- ... I love you. I really do love you. More than anything, actually ...” Maybe this was a little more serious than just a kiss.

• Sam's face was bright red, both from the sweat after performing and his bashfulness. When you said it back, he practically jumped for joy. He held you tightly within his arms and pressed kisses all over your face. He hesitated, before kissing your lips. Fireworks, an array of colors exploded as your lips met. The world disappeared while you were in his arms, just every color you could ever think of.

sebastian

• Sebastian would probably kiss you before you two officially started dating. But, you'd immediately start dating after, he doesn't like loose strings like that. When he showed you his bike one night, he asked if you wanted to take a ride to the city. After he shoved a helmet on your head, you were both good to go. Holding onto the back of him for dear life was enough to make both of your faces flush with color. As you two made it to your destination, he really couldn't get that moment out of his mind.

• You two were on the outskirts of the city, a small park that Sebastian liked to visit. He couldn't shake the feeling of your arms around him ... maybe it was a sign. “Hey, do you wanna go bike riding again soon? I didn't expect to like it so much with company, but I guess you're an exception ... my face isn't red- how can you even see? There are no lights except the stars! ... fine, you win, but it's your fault. You ... there's a lot of things about you that make me blush, okay? ...”

• The two of you sat under the stars in the cold, wet grass as he stared into your eyes. “... you look so pretty in the light of the stars, is this how you look every night? ... can I kiss you?” he asked, his face bright red and his freckles illuminated. When you nodded, he softly pressed his lips against yours. He was gentle, but his hand slowly slid to your lower back to pull you in a little more. The kiss was the flickers of a fireplace, contained but oh so warm. It felt like warmth, peace, and home. Maybe this was where you belonged.

shane

• It would take Shane a while to warm up to the idea of being in a relationship, and an even longer time to kiss you. He's always worried about how serious this will be, and he doesn't want to kiss you if you're just going to end up wasting his time. However, he's convinced in enough time. You two were sitting at the pier at the lake below your farm, and he was a bit tipsy. He had relapsed again, but not by too much. He was only a bit tipsy, but definitely emotional. You two were a few weeks into dating, and he didn't entirely trust you yet, but ... he was working on it.

• He was ranting, severely upset. “I tried so hard this time, but it just got away from me. I don't get it! Everyone tries so hard to stop me but I always find a way to get back to the bottle. You try ... so fuckin' hard to stop me. I let you down ev'ry damn time- I always let you down! It pisses me off how hard you try and how passionate you are! I-I just- ...” he says, his voice beginning to break as he looks into your eyes.

• Your were about to speak before his lips attached to yours. It was as though lightning struck you, his hand resting on your waist as he kissed you with an unprecedented amount of passion. It shocked your body to the core, but you couldn't get enough of it. He was desperate for this, he needed this. Whether it be the liquor on his lips or his sober thoughts, this was the one thing he wanted.

[elysiaheaven]

do you take requests? if you do, could i request ronin with a jirai kei/landmine mc? (landmine is typically used to refer to a girl (although, it can also be a guy) who is mentally unwell and on the verge of exploding, usually someone with bpd or bipolar)

if not, i 100% understand 😊

hi! I'm really tried my best to research if it's not accurate I'm so sorry.. also it's so cringe I made it so fluff imaooo

Words:1000!

Summary: you are bandaging him after a small accident

Genre: Fluff

Devotion-Ronin x G.N reader ^^

The air in your small apartment stinks of antiseptic. You’re kneeling on the stained carpet, frantically wrapping Ronin’s arm in gauze, trying to keep his skin together before the bleeding gets worse. His grin—obnoxious, smug, and endlessly irritating—remains intact despite the gash running from his shoulder down to his elbow.

“Should’ve seen it, babe. You should’ve seen how his face split open,” he chuckles, his voice raspy and far too casual for someone who just narrowly escaped murder charges. “I swear, it was art.”

You yank the bandage tighter than necessary, making him flinch.

"Ow. Easy, sweetheart."

“Shut up,” you snap, the sharpness in your voice cutting through the room like a knife. Your fingers tremble as you fasten the gauze into place, rage bubbling in your chest, threatening to boil over. It’s like every nerve in your body is frayed, ready to snap in half. “Just shut the hell up, Ronin. For five seconds. Do you know how close you were to getting caught? I had to drag your stupid body out of there!”

He doesn’t even flinch at the outburst. In fact, his grin grows wider, eyes gleaming with some twisted amusement. He’s enjoying this—the way you’re unraveling in front of him like a ribbon being pulled too hard from both ends.

“You’re so cute when you yell,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall, as if you aren't seething just inches away. "All dolled up in that pretty skirt, screaming like a little time bomb. God, I love you."

You grab a loose pillow from the couch and throw it at his face.

The pillow bounces off Ronin’s chest, but he catches it effortlessly, laughing softly under his breath. The sound grates on your nerves like nails on glass. You shove his shoulder—his injured shoulder—and he winces, though the grin never leaves his face.

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop—”

Before you can finish, he moves faster than you expect. His uninjured arm snakes around your waist, yanking you against him, despite your furious squirming. “What didja think, huh? That you were just gonna walk out on me?” His voice drops, a teasing drawl laced with menace, his words slithering into your ear.

"Let me go," you hiss, thrashing against his hold, but it’s no use. He tightens his grip, holding you firm like he’s cradling something precious that might shatter at any moment—and, God, maybe you will. The tension coiled inside you, the pressure building up like a bomb, is unbearable.

“Not happening, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to the top of your head, a mockery of tenderness. “Where else would you go, huh? You need me just as much as I need you.”

You hate how his words crawl under your skin, how they make you freeze for a moment too long. He knows exactly which buttons to push, exactly how to sink his claws in. You’ve tried so hard to stay composed, to keep the storm inside at bay, but with Ronin, the cracks in your armor spread faster than you can patch them.

"Don’t…" your voice falters, but you push at him again, weaker this time. "Don’t act like you care." The frustration and sadness twist together, tightening your chest like barbed wire. You hate him for making you feel this raw, this open.

“Oh, I care, darlin’. I care so much it hurts.” His hand slides up your back, slow and deliberate, grounding you even as you try to shove him away again. "That’s why you patched me up, didn’t you? You were scared."

"You almost got caught," you whisper, barely keeping it together. Your breathing’s erratic, the words stumbling out in broken pieces. "And now I’m stuck here… cleaning up your mess… again."

Ronin’s hand drifts up to your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His thumb traces the edge of your lips with a gentleness that makes your stomach turn. "You don’t have to fight me, sweetheart. I like you exactly the way you are—messy, angry, perfect.”

And that’s the worst part: You know he means it. He loves the chaos, feeds off it. Every time you teeter on the edge of breaking, he pulls you closer, cradling your madness like it’s something beautiful. And it scares you—how easily you could fall apart in his arms, how much you want to.

You sag against him, exhausted from the struggle, your body giving out before your mind can. Ronin’s arms tighten around you, holding you like a lifeline, like he knew all along you’d give in.

“There you go, Darling” he murmurs, a smile curling at the corner of his lips. "I’ve got you."

You lean into Ronin’s embrace, the tension in your muscles slowly unraveling as you sink against him, the warmth of his body contrasting with the chill of your frayed nerves. The soft thump of your heart beats steadily in your ears, a chaotic rhythm matching the swirl of emotions fighting for dominance within you.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing, almost conspiratorial, as if he’s sharing a secret meant only for you. “You’re a walking time bomb, but that’s what makes you so interesting.” He leans back slightly, just enough to catch your gaze, his devilish smirk never fading. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to watch a beautiful disaster unfold?”

You scowl at him, not in the mood for his games. “You think this is funny? You’re the reason I’m falling apart.”

Ronin chuckles softly, clearly amused. “Oh, babe, it’s way more entertaining than funny. You’re like a high-wire act without a safety net. Plus,” he adds, nudging your shoulder with his, “it’s not like I’m the one keeping secrets in a bloody basement.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You don’t get it. This is real for me.” The shadows of your bipolar disorder loom large, threatening to engulf you. Some days, you can handle everything—navigate the chaos, juggle the highs and lows—but other days? It’s like being caught in a whirlwind, and right now, it feels like you’re spiraling toward the edge.

Ronin’s expression shifts, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper, more earnest. “Then let’s just be a mess together, yeah?” His fingers brush against your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. “I mean, we can be extra dysfunctional, and I’m all in."

“Dysfunctional isn’t the half of it,” you mutter, your voice softer, the edge of your anger dulling as you look into his dark eyes, searching for a flicker of understanding.

“Ah, but that’s where the fun lies.” He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, teasingly whispering, “Besides, being a little devilish is my specialty. It’s like… embracing the chaos instead of running from it.”

You want to resist his allure, the way he pulls you in with every word, but there’s an undeniable comfort in his presence. He seems to understand the storm raging inside you, even when you barely grasp it yourself. “What if I explode?” you ask, half-joking, half-terrified of the reality that sits beneath the surface.

“Then I’ll catch you,” he promises, deadpan, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. “And we’ll make a real mess of things. I’ll grab a mop, and you can scream all you want. Just don’t think for a second that I’d let you go.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a fraction. “You’re impossible.”

“Exactly.” He leans back against the wall, still cradling you in his arms. “And that’s why you love me.”

You push at his shoulder playfully, but there’s no real force behind it. “I don’t love you. I tolerate you.”

“Oh, please.” He raises an eyebrow, grinning like a cat who just caught the canary. “You’re wrapped around my finger, darling. But that’s okay; I like you a little unhinged.”

“Unhinged?” you echo, the term sending a shiver through you. It’s a label you often grapple with, one that feels too close to home.

“Yeah, it’s like a badge of honor.” His eyes gleam as he continues, “You’re wild, unpredictable, and a bit of a mess. It’s like your own personal chaos aesthetic.” He lifts his hands in mock exaggeration, as if you’re some rare work of art. “And don’t forget—you’re mine. I can handle the explosion.”

His confidence in you is infuriating, but also oddly reassuring. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You really think I can just… manage it all?”

Ronin nods, his gaze unwavering. “Of course. It’s all about balance, babe. You’ve got the fire; I’ve got the chaos. Together, we’re a beautiful disaster.”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping onto your lips despite yourself. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep me around. See? That makes you the worst, too.” His smirk returns, cocky and playful. “You’re just as twisted as I am.”

“Not even close,” you retort, but the laughter in your voice betrays you.

He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You just wait, sweetheart. I’ll help you embrace your wild side. You’ll see.”

The uncertainty lingers, but for now, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace, comforted by the warmth and chaos he brings. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for today.

You sink deeper into Ronin's embrace, the tension easing from your shoulders as his warmth envelops you. Your mind is still a jumble of emotions, but the soft fabric of your oversized hoodie—a faded black with intricate, pastel-hued patches—feels comforting against your skin.

“Nice hoodie, babe. I love how you rock that look,” Ronin said sarcastically, his fingers grazing the delicate lace trim at the sleeves. “So perfectly chaotic. It’s like you’re ready to explode at any moment.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile threatens to break through. “It’s called style. Not everything has to be about violence, you know.” Your hoodie hangs off one shoulder, exposing the frilly strap of the pink lace tank underneath. You feel ridiculous, and yet… it’s part of who you are.

Ronin chuckles, tugging playfully at the hem of your hoodie. “It’s a cute look. That top is like a warning sign, and the ruffles are practically screaming for attention.” His tone is teasing, but there's a hint of sincerity behind it that makes your heart flutter.

“Like your bloody bandages aren’t attention-grabbing enough?” you shoot back, gesturing toward the makeshift dressing he’s wrapped around his arm. You can’t help but notice how the contrast between your softer, pastel colors and his dark attire highlights the chaos you both embody. His signature look—black ripped jeans, a loose maroon tee, and a battered leather jacket—only enhances his devil-may-care attitude.

“Hey, it’s all about the aesthetic,” he says, his grin wide and unapologetic. “You can’t have a true chaos vibe without a little blood, after all.”

You snort, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “You’re such a punk.”

“And you’re my..darling.” he retorts, the wicked glint in his eyes making you blush. “Just think of it this way: We’re the perfect match. You’re the ticking time bomb in frills and lace, and I’m the charming devil.”

The juxtaposition of your two styles feels almost poetic in its absurdity. Your layered fishnet stockings peek out from beneath your frayed mini skirt, adorned with silver hardware and mismatched patches that tell stories of their own. Each piece of clothing is a reflection of your inner turmoil, each stitch a reminder of the battles fought and the scars worn like badges.

“Do you really think I’m cute like this?” you ask, vulnerability creeping into your voice. It’s not something you often share, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the way he’s studying you.

“Absolutely,” he replies, his tone suddenly serious. “You’re beautiful, even with..."

The soft fabric of your oversized T-shirt brushes against Ronin’s arm, the pastel pink covered in faint rips and band logos, a perfect reflection of your chaotic style. The high-waisted black skirt, shorts you wear flares slightly as you shift, the hem adorned with delicate lace that clashes and complements your chaotic aesthetic all at once.

You roll your eyes, the playful banter bringing a flicker of warmth to your cheeks. “Shut up. At least I’m not wearing a beanie indoors.”

“Hey, this beanie is a fashion statement,” he replies, his tone dripping with mock indignation as he pats the plum-colored fabric atop his head. “It keeps the artistic vibes alive, you know?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you glance down at your outfit. The contrast of your clothes—delicate ruffles and lace with a touch of punk rock—makes you feel both fierce and fragile, just like your mind. The jirai kei aesthetic reflects you.. it's just your style..

“See? You’re practically a walking art piece.” Ronin shifts slightly, cradling you tighter against him, his thumb tracing the edge of your lace-trimmed collar. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to have a person like you on their arm?”

You huff, your expression softening despite your best efforts. “Just because I wear ruffles doesn’t mean I’m not capable of causing chaos.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice low, and suddenly serious. “That’s what I love about you. You’re a contradiction, and it’s beautiful.”

His sincerity catches you off guard. You want to protest, to throw his words back at him, but instead, you find yourself melting further into his embrace. You can feel the tension in your body start to dissolve, even as the swirling storm in your mind rages on.

“Do you remember the first time I saw you in a stupid call?” Ronin continues, a playful lilt returning to his voice. “You were wearing that black and white striped shirt with a collar—adorable, and yet I could tell there was something simmering underneath.”

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t stop staring at me..I think?" you shoot back, trying to redirect the conversation, but the warmth in your chest only grows.

“It was the combination of the pastel colors,” he says, pretending to think deeply. “You looked like a cute little time bomb, just waiting to go off.”

Your cheeks flush again, and you fight the urge to bury your face in his chest. “Stop it.”

“Nope,” he says with a playful grin. “I’ll never stop. You’re like a little —adorable on the outside, and then boom!” He gestures dramatically, hands exploding outward as if reenacting your metaphorical detonation.

You can’t help but laugh, even though a part of you is still tense, a storm cloud brewing in the background. “I am not like that! I mean it's we....”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he replies, his tone teasing yet tender, “you definitely are. But that just makes me want to be around you more. I’ll be here when you go off. I’m not going anywhere.”

You shift your weight slightly, the hem of your clothing brushing against his jeans. “You might want to reconsider that.”

“Never. I’m addicted to your chaos.” He smirks, running a finger along the edge of your lace. “And besides, I think you need a little devilish distraction in your life.”

“Distraction?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Or danger?”

“Both. It’s a package deal,” he winks, the devil-may-care attitude shining through. “And trust me, with your flair for the dramatic and my penchant for chaos, we’ll create our own beautiful mess.”

You breathe in deeply, the tension slowly ebbing away as you absorb his playful confidence. The combination of your styles—his dark punk vibes and your jirai kei flair—creates a unique blend that feels so distinctly you.

“I guess I’m lucky to have you around to catch me when I explode,” you say, a soft smile breaking through the storm clouds in your mind.

“You bet,” he replies, his grin wide and mischievous. “But don’t think for a second I won’t enjoy the explosion, darling. I thrive in the chaos; I’ve told you before.”

You shake your head in disbelief, unable to suppress a giggle, “You’re incorrigible.”

“True, but you love it.” He pulls you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You shift slightly in Ronin’s embrace, the soft couch enveloping you like a cocoon, but the clock on the wall catches your eye. It’s getting late, and a wave of anxiety washes over you. “I really should head home,” you say reluctantly, glancing towards the door.

“Why?” He looks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve already made a mess of my heart, darling. You think I’ll let you just waltz out of here?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the weight of your worries lightening for a moment. “I don’t want to disturb you, Ronin. I mean, you probably have… things to do.”

“Things to do?” He quirks an eyebrow, feigning incredulity. “What could possibly be more interesting than this?” He gestures dramatically around the room as if it’s a grand stage, but the intensity in his gaze is undeniable. “Just stay. I promise I won’t bite—much.”

You feel a flutter of excitement mixed with anxiety. “I don’t know. It’s late…”

“Please?” he adds, his voice lowering, taking on a soft, coaxing tone that makes your heart race. “Just stay a little longer. What’s the harm in that?”

Your resolve wavers, and you can feel the familiar tug of his devilish charm pulling you closer. “I really should…” you start, but he interrupts, playfully pushing you down on the couch. You can’t help but gasp as he pins you gently against the cushions, his body hovering over yours.

“What was that about going home?” he whispers, his face inches from yours, the warmth radiating from him sending shivers down your spine. Before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing softness.

“Stay,” he murmurs against your mouth, kissing you again, deeper this time, his fingers tangling in your hair as if anchoring you to this moment.

You melt into him, the taste of him overwhelming your senses—spicy and sweet, the essence of him intoxicating. His kisses are fervent, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to convey everything he feels without words.

You push against him slightly, your thoughts a chaotic swirl, but the way he holds you tight makes it hard to think straight. “Ronin…” you whisper, but he kisses you again, silencing your protests.

In that moment, nothing else matters. Your worries slip away, replaced by the warmth of his body and the intensity of his gaze. You pull him closer, surrendering to the need building inside you. His kisses become a frantic melody, a rhythm that drowns out your thoughts and worries.

You realize you’ve given up the argument, leaning into him, the hesitation fading away. This is where you want to be—lost in the chaos, the devilish embrace of someone who understands your darkness. No words are needed; the warmth of his kisses speaks volumes, each one whispering a promise of what could be.

Ronin’s hold on you tightens, a possessive gesture that makes your heart race even faster. He can be so devilish, and yet, here in this moment, everything feels just right.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 23

Word count: 2686

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, death, use of weapons, use of a knife, graphic depictions of violence, blood, military setting.

They keep him locked away in complete and utter darkness. Not a single sound penetrates the two-foot-thick cement walls. Anything he hears is a fabrication of his mind. An audio hallucination caused by the psychological effects of the deprivation of his senses. I’m sure that’s not the only thing he imagines as his chilled bones rattle against each other and his joints stiffen from the cold. So when Ghost cracks open the vault-like door and flicks on the lights, I don’t doubt my father thinks he’s seeing things. Maybe that I’m not real or that I’m visiting him from the dead or that I’ve come for revenge. All of these could be true.

The frigid air penetrates through my long sleeves. It’s just warm enough in here to avoid hypothermia. It’s like 141 is refrigerating him, preserving him until it’s time to transport him back to their main base. That’s where the real fun will begin. In theory, at least.

Ghost keeps his word and leaves the room only after sharing the smallest nod with me. He trusts me. It’s not his choice to make. It’s mine.

I think I subconsciously knew what had to happen long before I could admit such an idea to myself.

All I’ve ever wanted since this began was for the hurting to stop. Not just the pain inflicted on me, but on every soul involved. I hated the idea of people suffering because of me. Even if they hurt me and even if they hurt others; I didn’t see the point in furthering the cycle.

But that’s just it. It’s a cycle that won’t stop until someone interrupts it. 141 thinks that’s what they’re doing, but they’re just as much a part of it as the Ultranationalists. I’d never tell Ghost that, but I don’t see any other way you can put it.

They won’t accomplish anything by locking him away and torturing him for days on end until he gives them some outdated information on my uncle that’ll just send them on another goose chase. The only thing they’ll accomplish is causing more pain.

141’s solution isn’t permanent enough.

“Y/n? Darling?” My father’s voice is weak. “Is that really you?”

For a moment I think he might cry. He looks broken. Genuinely broken. He looks like I’ve felt ever since I found out about who he is. All this makes me wonder how much his reaction is genuine.

“Don’t call me that anymore,” I respond and it’s enough to tell him that, yes, it really is me. And no, I’m not here to help. I take a step away from the locked entrance into the claustrophobic room.

I wouldn’t doubt these rooms are designed to be small for psychological reasons. The base isn’t lacking space by any means. Some psychologists at some point determined that people are easier to break when they’re caged up like animals.

“Don’t act like that darling,” his tone remains on the verge of cracking. “Can we talk? I want to know you’re okay.”

He’s lying. Something about the squint around his eyes isn’t right. Or maybe I want him to be guilty. Maybe I just want to feel justified. What would Ghost think about his body language?

It looks like it takes a significant amount of effort for him to rise his head. The once gentle, yet strong man I knew has since withered. I want to pity him. Some part of me even wants to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. To cut him loose and let him take me back in time.

The stronger part of me won’t let that happen.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” I tell him. My voice doesn’t let on how nervous I am. The stress of the situation doesn’t seem to sink in. That’ll happen later.

“Look,” he admits. “I need your help. They’re going to kill me. Then you. We have to do something.”

Suddenly it’s we. Not me. Not I. Not your mother and I. No, she’s in New York. All he cares about is himself. I imagine Ghost standing beside me and striking him for lying. We.

“How many deaths are you responsible for?” I don’t bother entertaining his nuances. I feel uncharacteristically calm right now as I slowly approach him. My hands don’t shake or sweat. My mouth isn’t dry. My heart beats steadily. I am in complete control.

The switch blade weighs like iron in my back pocket.

“What are you talking about?” his mask starts to slip away. I need him to tell me. I can’t do this if he doesn’t admit guilt.

“The shootings: refugee centers, churches, homeless shelters. I saw videos, you know.”

“If you saw videos, what does my answer matter?”

“I want to hear you say it,” my voice is even. I almost sound unbothered by what I’m asking him to admit like I don’t care all that much. “Take ownership of your actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he tries to change the subject. For a moment I think he’s trying to make me feel stupid. Then I register something else in his voice. Something fearful and hesitant. What is he scared of? “This isn’t a mistake you want to make.”

“You’re ignoring me. Admit it. Admit what you did to those people. Admit what you did to me. To Mom,” The tips of my boots are just inches away from his chained feet. The air between us is charged with resentment.

“Look at what they’ve done to you, y/n,” maybe it wasn’t fear I sensed earlier. Maybe the emotion sneaking out of his chest was something entirely different. Because if I’m not mistaken now, he almost sounds disgusted. “You’re almost unrecognizable,” The flare of his nostrils confirms it. “Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you right now.”

I feel a dull twisting sensation in my chest. Like his cold hands have wrapped around my lungs and squeezed them. Breathing feels impossible as the thick muscle twists between his bloody fingers.

My heart pumps faster and molten blood races to my neck and cheeks. My calm composure is slipping and fast.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” the words snag through bared teeth. How dare he try to guilt me. I haven’t done anything wrong. The only reason I’m here is because of him. It’s all because of him.

“Nothing about me’s changed, darling. Your mother’s always supported me. You would too if you knew where the world was heading.”

“I doubt that.”              

“You’re looking at it wrong, y/n. Not everything is about making the world better. But our job, our family, will make it more secure. Those people were a threat,” he says matter-of-factly. A threat to what, exactly? They were innocent. They were children.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’re doing this for the greater good. There is no world where mass killings make things better,” I snarl.

“We work for what we want. We take things into our own hands. This little crew over here, 141,” he says with a measurable amount of distaste. “Is using you. Even now, y/n,” He says this like he knows. Like it’s the complete truth and to even think otherwise is utterly mad. “If you think you’re here on your own free will. You’re wrong.”

I blink. His absolute certainty is maddening. Never could I have imagined him to be so disconnected from reality. He truly is a stranger.

“I know why you’re really here, Little Bird, doing their dirty work like a good little whore,” he seethes. There’s a controlled sense of chaos to him that taunts me. I could pull the switchblade on him. I should. Just get it over with for god’s sake.

I close the minimal space between us. Only inches away yet the distance feels like miles.

“I’m not here on their business,” I say between my teeth. As I lean over him, it’s the first time in forever I feel like I am in control. “This all started because of you and I’ll be damn-“

Suddenly the tables turn swiftly and dangerously. He leaps from the chair and his hands are wrapped around my throat in a vice like grip before I can even process what’s just happened. My arms flail and it feels like slow motion as we fall through the air with him on top of me. How the hell did he get out of his restraints?

My head hits the cement hard and the sound of bone hitting rock echoes off the walls. Not just one, but two men are now strangling me and I struggle to make out which one is real.

“This is all your fault,” spit covers my face as he speaks. Redness runs up his throat to his cheeks as his eyes bulge from exertion. My hands desperately grasp at his arms to no avail. My ears ring as they search the floor for something, anything. Then I feel the tiny piece of metal, still in my back pocket.

Ghost’s training kicks in fast.

My brain barely regiseters the object in my hands as I thrust it toward him as quickly as possible while he’s still destracted. My vision is spotting as his grip seems to tighten even stronger. I repeat the desperate action several times more until the blade is lodged in his lower stomach and I finally manage to drag it across diagonally, completely bathing us in blood.

Only then, does he falter. The man’s hands reach for the wound as he crumples to the side and I take the chance to crawl towards the corner of the room furthest from him. I can’t feel anything but the hot, tacky substance that has fully saturated my clothes. My chest quickly rises and falls as my lungs fight to breathe, but for the life of me it doesn’t feel like any air is making it to them. Panic clouds my vision and my sight turns to static. Everything sounds distorted, like I’m underwater. For a moment I think that is exactly what happened and must be why I feel like I’m drowning.

Red emergency lights flash and an alarm blares in the background. In thirty seconds an armed team of 141’s soldiers will barge through the doors to address the security breach. When they see my father’s slumped body and the growing pool of blood around the bottom of his chair, they’ll look to Ghost for answers first, then they’ll look at me. There’s no hiding what I’ve done.

“Y/n, you’re hyperventilating,” his clear, calm voice breaks through the surface. My eyes flicker up to meet his and my whole attention focuses in on him. Simon. I don’t know where he came from or if he’s real, but right now he’s the only person that can save me. “Deep breaths sweetheart, we don’t have long before they’re here,” his gloved hands cup my bloodied cheeks. I almost don’t notice his skull mask. It’s not the scariest thing in the room anymore. I am.

I nod and Simon continues, “breathe with me y/n. Ready?” he searches my face before deeply breathing in, “and out,” he says through a deep exhale. “Keep breathing. You’re doing good, but I need you to listen very carefully about what is going to happen next,” I nod again and push through another wave of anxiety.

“A team of men is going to detain you and you’ll be brought to the med center. Once you’re cleared Price will have you locked in your room. You won’t get to see me again, but I’ll be watching, okay? You’ll stay there for a few days while the higher-ups have meetings, then eventually discharge you and put you under protective services,” Ghost’s thumb gently rubs back and forth, spreading blood across my cheek. I finally come to terms with what he’s saying. I won’t be able to see him again. They’ll have assumed he had something to do with this. Otherwise, how’d I get the knife? How’d I get through security? They’ll know it was him and they’ll punish him for it.

“But you-” My voice cracks.

“I’ll be alright y/n,” Simon is so calm that I can’t help but belive him.

I want to lean into his embrace, to feel his arms fully encompass my shaking frame and fully disappear into him. Does he mean it when he says I won’t get to see him again? My already clenched heart twists. How am I supposed to just accept that? There has to be something we can do.

I catch the silhouette of my father’s body from the corner of my eye and feel my breathing start to lose control again. I did that. I killed him. Even if it was technically self-defence, my intentions were already set upon deciding to visit him. He almost did me a favour by attacking me.

I’d be stupid to think Ghost and I could have a future after I’ve committed such a heinous crime.

In the distance I hear quickly approaching footsteps as a crew of men, armed and ready, sprint down the hall towards our direction.

“Simon, I-” my voice drifts off. There’s so much I need to tell him, but I’m at a loss. Under the mask, his eyes are calm. He knows. He always has.

“I know y/n,” his voice is low with remorse. The air is still. The alarm blares in the background and our faces are illuminated by the flashing red. My last ounce of hope is suspended by a delicate thread in the space between us. “Me too,” Simon’s brows furrow as he looks me over one sorrowful last time. His shoulders heave as he prepares himself for what he has to do next.

Ghost shifts back as he rises to his full height. The automatic riffle that is often clipped to his hip is taken into both hands and aimed directly at my heart.

“Simon?” my voice trembles. He isn’t there.

“Toss the weapon to the side and put your hands behind your back,” Ghost commands. He doesn’t have to yell or threaten me. I defeatedly do exactly as he says.

The sounds of the soldiers grow louder. Their feet loudly echo through the cement halls. The rattle of their equipment can be heard over the alarm as the leader of the crew yells something indiscernible.

Six more weapons are aimed at my chest as they storm the room. Five of the faceless, towering figures line the wall, completely surrounding me. The last one approaches my father, drops his weapon, removes his gloves, presses two fingers to my father’s carotid artery, and checks for a pulse. Thirty silent seconds pass, and nothing.

He is finally gone.

All their attention returns to me. Ghost remains in the background as one of the new soldiers approaches with a pair of cuffs dangling from his hands. He doesn’t say anything as he closes the gap. The metal is cold around my wrists as the cuffs tighten and click into place.

I fight every urge to look at Ghost. All I want is the comfort of his eyes, to know everything will be all right. I can’t risk it, my every action is being monitored. Even the wrong kind of eye contact can be incriminating. How badly will they punish him? My stomach twists at the thought.

The masked man yanks me to my feet. My knees almost buckle with the unexpected pressure. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I nearly fall. I barely have time to adjust before the familiar black cloth bag is tugged over my head.

Darkness.

I’m reminded of how I was brought to 141 in nearly the same state. It feels like so much has changed and yet nothing is different. My whole life was burned to the ground, yet for them, this is just another day. I am merely a small blip on their radar, almost small enough to disregard completely, but not quite.

I hope I never see them again.

[pumpkin-patch-cat]

New Job, Who Dis?!

(Grim x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings:(DLC ending spoilers. Suggestive themes)

Grim is now living rent free in my brain.

After completing the DLC ending of A Date with Death, I have decided it is my favorite ending and conjured up a little dialog. This oneshot hints to the endings outcome, so spoiler warning ⚠️. This was written quickly, so pardon any grammatical errors! Enjoy!

“Hold up, start from the top. What's my job description again?”

“Your job will be to give life back to those who aren't supposed to die. Sometimes, innocent people are caught up in things where losing their life was NOT part of the original plan. Because your soul harbors the essence of life itself, with you at my side, you'll be able to attempt to save those people who are at the presepist of dying too early.”

“Attempt?” You eye him quizzically from your place at your desk. Casper is sat at the foot of your bed, long legs outstretched, hands in his lap. He nods and continues.

“Basically, when a mortal is on the verge of death, their soul has become tainted with what we call a ‘blight’ or ‘blight of death’. Similar to ‘the taint’ for reapers, though much much harder to bounce back from when the soul or a mortals very existence is overtaken or ‘infected’ if you will. Some people can bounce back on their own, while others succumb and meet their unfortunate end. I say attempt because sometimes a mortal is beyond cleansing. The blight is too far gone, and no amount of divine intervention will save their existence....so naturally, when we, no, you receive cases like this, time is of the essence.

“I see...wow, that's heavy. No pressure or anything. Sheesh.”

“Yes. The job will be difficult at times. Y/n, there will be times when a person will be beyond help. You'll want to save them desperately. Times where no matter how much effort is placed into saving them, it may not work, and you will be angry. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed an innocent person parish entirely too early at the hands of a twisted version of fate. Those moments are out of my hands, and I have to ferry them away regardless. But that's where you'll come in.” 

“Sooo I'm basically an angel??”

“No, they're grotesque creatures. They instill fear in humans and sugar coat their acts with pretty words. You'll actually give hope. Plus, you're much prettier than they are. Who really needs that many eyes and wings, honestly??? But anyways…”

You fall silent in deep thought.

“Y/n? Why are you screwing up your face like that?”

“Can I really do this, Casper? What if I mess up??”

“My sweetest, little nightmare. I'll be there with you every step of the way.” Casper smiles reassuringly.

“Thank God. OH! Do I get a cool ass scythe of my own, too?” You perk up almost immediately, wistfully looking at his impressive weapon that is currently leaning against your wall nearest the door.

“I...I'll never get used to the way you can flip subjects so easily. But yes, I guess. Once you're settled, we will get you fitted with a 'cool ass scythe'. Or at least a decent weapon you'll use to channel your soul energy. I know a guy.”

“You know a guy? That doesn't sound shady at all, but fuck yea!”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm.

“I'm glad you're okay with this decision. I really couldn't think of a better way for this to work out for both of us but-”

“But you have a big, sexy brain that was able to figure it out, now you're stuck with me foreeevvver.” You beam, triumphantly.

“I suppose I am, and quite frankly, I would have it no other way.” With a smile on his face, Casper stands, reaches for your hands, and pulls you to your feet.

“Awww, little reaper. Since when did you get so mushy? It makes me want to violate yo- I mean...I could really go for some food right about now. Yea, food. That's what I meant."

“...You really are something else. We will grab something on the way to my place.”

“Bet. Finally making good on us moving in together?”

“Obviously. I can't escape you.” With a chuckle, he brushes his nose against yours playfully.

“It was inevitable, Casper” You respond. The grin that spreads across your face makes his "supposedly" cold heart warm.

“Seems so…and by the way…”

Casper slips his arm around your waist gently, leaning into your ear.

“I'll take you up on that offer of 'violating' me later, my little nightmare.”

“You just want to be stepped on.”

“S-stepped on? What..uh...I”

“The blush on your cheeks says you do. Can't take it back now. Your fate is sealed. I hope you're ready.” you wink.

“Haaa....fuck.”