#the sky seems awfully dark all of a sudden

[hanniebaeee]

Lost

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: description of a dead body, some fingering, light smut

Genre: psychological horror, smut

Summary: You and Felix take a shortcut home after a Halloween party, through an old abandoned park. Felix goes missing, and your world is turned upside down.

The night was cool, and the sky was shrouded in dark clouds, casting an eerie glow over the city. You tugged your jacket tighter around yourself as you and Felix walked out of Jisung’s place after the party. His smile was mischievous, and his eyes held a devilish glint.

“We should call an Uber,” you said for what felt like the fifth time, impatiently.

It had been a long night, and you two had had a couple of drinks too. And there was a chill in the wind that had you shivering. You were eager to get home and get under the covers with Felix. But Felix chuckled, his voice low and teasing.

“Why call an Uber when we can walk? It’s such a nice night.”

You sighed and gave him a little glare. Felix was playful and silly most of the time, but there was an intensity to him that unfortunately had you dancing to his tune a lot more than you would like to admit.

So you walked with him, his cute grin making you smile tiredly too. The walk wasn’t that bad even, until the entrance of the old abandoned park came into view. The twisted trees and dark path loomed ahead like the gates to some forgotten realm. You froze as Felix casually took a turn to the gates.

The park has been the topic of interest in your little town for ages. The park that everyone in town whispered about, rumored to be the site of a mass burial decades ago. The park where strange things had been seen, and people went missing all the time.

“No,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “I’m not going through the park, Felix.”

But your boyfriend gave you that infuriating smile, pulling you close. His hands were warm on your waist, and his breath, hot against your ear as he whispered, “Come on, baby, it’s just a shortcut. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You absolutely hated how your body responded to him.

“Baby, please,” you pleaded weakly, but you knew it was of no use.

Felix tugged you forward, leading you into the park. The moonlight had the cute mermaid glitter on his cheekbone shimmering. Even in your scared state, you couldn't take how handsome he looked. You followed him silently, your heart pounding so fast. Your every instinct screamed at you to turn back. The air grew colder as you ventured deeper into the park and the leafless trees seemed to close in on you like skeletal fingers. The only sound was the crunch of leaves under your feet, and the occasional howling of the wind.

You were shivering and felt breathless all of a sudden. You sped up, not wanting to prolong this tortuous joruney. Felix was being uncharacteristically quiet behind you, so you turned around, but… he was gone.

Felix was gone.

"Felix?" you called out, your voice trembling as panic gripped at you.

Silence. The rustling of the leaves in the wind sounded amplified, as you tried to hold back the urge to vomit. Your heart raced as you spun around, searching the shadows for any sign of him.

“Lixie!” you yelled, louder this time, but there was still no answer. Dread had settled in your stomach like a heavy rock, and you felt the fear creeping up your spine. You cursed under your breath, your fists clenching in frustration. This was exactly the kind of prank he would pull. But something about this felt awfully wrong.

You took a step forward, then froze as you heard something behind you. Footsteps. You whipped around, but there was no one there. Your breath caught in your throat, and the next thing you knew, you were running. You ran through the park like your life depended on it, and your foot caught on something, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Pain shot through you as you landed harshly, your hands scraping against the gravel. You moaned softly in pain, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. This was not how your night was supposed to go. You wipe your tears and turn to look at what had tripped you.

Felix.

Lying on the ground, his skin pale, almost blue, was your boyfriend. He wasn't moving at all, and the glitter on his face shimmered brightly against his dull skin. And there was a dark bruise forming on his forehead. You crawled over to him, your broken sobs echoing with the wind. His body was cold to the touch, and you felt your heart stop in your chest.

“Felix!” you screamed, shaking him, your voice breaking with fear. “No no no no no, baby please, NO!”

“Wake up, please, wake up!” Tears blurred your vision as you cupped his cheeks, frantically trying to wake him, but he didn’t move. His skin was so cold, so lifeless. You pulled out your phone, your hands shaking violently as you tried to call for help, but there was no signal. You decided to go get help, and just as you took a few steps forward, you heard it again.

Footsteps behind you.

Slowly, you turned around, dread crawling up your spine. And there, standing just a few feet away, was Felix.

He looked perfectly fine. No bruise. No blue skin. He was standing, looking at you with confusion and concern.

“Why did you run off like that?!” he asked, his voice raised.

You stared at him, feeling completely disoriented.

“Run?” you whispered. “When did I run?”

He stepped closer, pulling you into his arms, his warmth seeping into your cold, trembling body.

“You just took off,” he murmured, rubbing your back soothingly. “Are you ok?”

You were shivering uncontrollably now, your mind reeling as you looked down at the spot where, just moments ago, you had been cradling his lifeless body. But now… there was nothing there.

You pulled back from Felix, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I… I didn’t run,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “You… you were on the ground. You weren’t moving. You were…”

Felix’s brows furrowed as he cupped your face, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Hey, I’m right here. I’m fine.”

Even as Felix held you close, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. You looked around again, the shadows of the park suddenly much darker, much more menacing.

"Let's get out of here," Felix said softly, guiding you out of the park.

The walk back to Felix's apartment was a blur. Your body felt heavy, and you felt so sick.

“Hey,” Felix said, his hand tilting your chin, and his soft brown eyes searched yours with concern. “What happened back there?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You shook your head, feeling the sting of tears again. Felix pulled you into a hug, his strong arms enveloping you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

His voice was soothing, but you could hear the confusion in it. You tried to block out the whole thing from your mind.

“I’m going to help you out of this, okay?” he said softly, his fingers already working on the zippers of your cat costume. His hands were gentle as he undressed you, stripping you down to your underwear.

Felix’s eyes never left yours as he reached for one of his oversized T-shirts, slipping it over your head. The fabric was soft, smelling faintly of him. You couldn’t help but close your eyes for a moment, letting that scent wrap around you like a blanket.

You climbed under the duvet, as Felix tugged off his own costume. He was quick as he stripped down to his boxers. You watched him, dazed and somewhat lost. He caught you staring and flashed you a small, knowing smile.

Felix crawled into bed beside you, pulling the covers over the both of you as he wrapped his arms around you. The heat of his body seeped into yours, and for the first time that night, you felt safe.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his lips finding your forehead in a soft kiss.

Your face was just inches from his, and his breath was warm against your skin. You leaned in and kissed him, your lips pressing against his, desperately. Felix responded instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he kissed you back, deep and intense. His lips were soft but urgent.

He pulled you closer, until there was no space left between your bodies. As the kiss deepened, you could feel his desire, so raw and hot.

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you pressed your body against his, and kissed him harder. Felix groaned softly against your lips, his hands sliding down to your waist, as he ground his hips into yours.

His skin was blazing hot under your fingers and your mind suddenly drifted off to how cold he had felt, just sometime back. You feel his lips moving down to your neck and your collarbone, but you're stuck.

Felix noticed, like he always did.

“Talk to me, baby,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm.

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something feels off. I can’t shake it.”

“You’re safe,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

His fingers traced slow, comforting patterns along your back, but even in his calm, you could sense the storm brewing beneath the surface. He wanted to understand what was wrong, to fix it, but you were not exactly helpful.

His thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip, sending a shiver through your entire body.

“I need you to stop thinking for a second,” he said, his voice low and thick with desire. “Just… be here with me.”

And then he was kissing you again, his hand sliding into your hair, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands wandering down your back, to your thighs, and opening your legs to settle between them.

Your mind felt hazy, lost in him - the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, and just how hard he was. You needed more.

Your hands slid down his chest, feeling the firm muscles, and he responded with a soft, breathless curse, his lips never leaving yours.

Felix’s hands slipped under the oversized T-shirt he’d dressed you in, his fingers caressing your breasts over your bra. Slowly pulling the cup down, his fingers pinched your nipple. The sensation was almost too much. You whined softly, and he lifted the shirt just enough to capture the hardened bud between his lips.

You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair, and he growled softly, pressing himself closer. He slipped his hand inside your panties, finding your clit and rubbing it ever so gently. You were beginning to lose yourself in the pleasure. It felt that good.

His mouth on your breasts and his fingers slipping inside you - you were literally burning. And just like that, came in something else. A darkness clouding your vision.

Felix seemed to sense it.

“You’re still not with me,” he said. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed hard, staring into his eyes. Something was wrong. It started as a flicker of discomfort in your chest, but soon it felt like something was tightening around your lungs, making it harder to breathe.

You tried to focus on Felix. The way his fingers curled inside you, the pleasure that made you moan, and grip at the sheets tighter. Your vision blurred slightly, and your head started to swim.

Felix’s touch started to feel distant, your senses dulling as a strange sensation took over.

“Lixie…” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out weak, barely audible.

He didn’t hear you. His lips moved over your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. Your eyes glazed over, and it felt like you weren’t really there anymore. Like you were floating outside your body, watching from somewhere far away.

Felix pulled back slightly, and he froze when he saw your expression.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough, his fingers out of you in an instant, and hands moving to cup your face.

You gasped for air, and the room felt like it was tilting ever so slightly. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and you reach out to take his hand, squeezing it in fear.

Felix’s shifted, sitting up and shaking you a little.

“Babe, you’re scaring me,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Shit. Shit!”

Felix’s face blurred in and out of focus, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was really there.

“I… I can’t breathe.”

Felix's eyes widened in panic, and he pulling you into his lap as he cupped your face with both hands.

“Hey, hey, breathe with me, okay?” His voice was steady, but you could hear the fear in it. “Can you try?”

Your hands gripped his arms tightly, trying to ground yourself, but your fingers felt numb. You looked up at him, your vision blurry, your heart racing, and then, something shifted.

For a second, Felix’s face didn’t look like Felix at all. It was like you couldn’t trust what was real, like the Felix in your arms wasn’t the same Felix who had held you just moments ago.

The air around you felt heavy, thick with something unseen, something that made your skin crawl. You close your eyes tightly, hoping and praying that it would just stop. And then, just as quickly as it had started, everything went silent.

The feeling of Felix’s hands on your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours - it all vanished in an instant. You were all alone. Felix was gone.

Again.

You sat up quickly, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around the room. The bed was empty, the apartment eerily quiet.

“Felix?” you breathed out, but there was no answer.

Panic surged through you, and you scrambled out of bed, your hands shaking as you searched for him. But the room was empty and so still. You turned back to the bed, and for a moment, your breath caught in your throat.

There, lying on the bed where you had just been, was Felix - his body still, his skin pale, the dark bruise even more prominent now. You screamed, stumbling back, your hands flying to your mouth.

This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening again. But as you stood there, frozen in fear, you heard something behind you.

Footsteps. Slow, deliberate.

You turned, your heart racing, and there he was - your boyfriend, standing in the doorway, looking at you with wide, confused eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

But all you could do was stare, your breath caught in your throat. You knew even before you glance at the bed that you'll find nothing there. You look back at Felix, and then, everything goes black as you fall to the ground with a sickening thud.

And the only thing that floated through your mind as you lost consciousness was Felix. Have you lost him? Or were you losing yourself?

a/n: Attempting horror for the first time! It's actually my favorite genre. I'm so nervous to put this out here 😅 Feedback is much appreciated!

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (4/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: You follow Arthur back to camp, who isn't so happy about the decision. Yet, you are convinced that you have to be there for the last train heist of the van der Linde gang.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no tb-Arthur, literally love redemption, no smut (probably), "slow burn"

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

8000 words

You tried to take your time while following Arthur's tracks. A ride through Murfree country never had been one of your favourite past time activities. Since you had to ride through the territory to reach Annesburg, you were familiar with all its paths and knew where Murfrees could hide; but the familiarity didn’t change the fact that you just preferred to not be in danger. If you had a job to do in Annesburg and had plenty of time to spare, you would ride around the territory, but if you had to be quick, you always had your rifle and gun ready. Today, you’d rather be quick and follow the tracks directly. Arthur had a decent head-start and there was no way you would arrive at camp simultaneously.

Soon, you heard noise in the distance that you immediately associated with camp life; the clattering of plates, mumbling, occasional shouts. The noise was still muffled because of the forest. It was eerie, really. Despite the sun being high in the sky, it seemed to be misty and dark. If you had still been with the gang when the decision was made to camp here, you surely would have protested.

Already, you were awfully close to camp, but there was nobody standing guard. Maybe things had significantly changed since you last were part of the gang, but you wondered...because back then, when their bounties were still low, there still was someone keeping watch pretty much all the time. You rode along the earthy path and tents appeared. You scanned the campgrounds to look for someone familiar.

It didn't take long before eyes were on you. Javier was the first one to approach, greeting you in a friendly manner while you dismounted. Soon, a small circle had formed around you. Miss Grimshaw with mixed feelings about your long absence and sudden return; Tilly and Mary-Beth who wanted to know what you'd been up to; Karen who offered you a beer. Through the crowd of people, you saw Dutch and a sleazy blonde guy emerge from the darkness of the cave while Arthur put his head out of his tent to see what the commotion was about.

You couldn't dwell long on Arthur's expression, his mouth slightly open, fists clenching, while you walked past his tent to approach Dutch, who strolled towards you with open arms.

"Miss y/l/n!" Dutch greeted you, his big hand taking yours and shaking it as if you were business partners meeting to discuss a scheme. His hand was warm and slightly moist, which disgusted you, but you forces yourself to put on a grin. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart beat up to your throat, you were this anxious not to reveal that you had Arthur had reconnected.  

"Dutch," you nodded. You weren’t sure if more formalities would have been appropriate, but you had never called him “Mr van der Linde” and you saw no reason to start doing so now.

"Good to have you back! I had sent for you a while ago...", Dutch locked eyes with Arthur for a moment, who still stood by his tent, flabbergasted, "Rumour was you were dead."

"Well", you smiled charmingly, "I didn't want to be found just yet. I had some loose strings to tie up, wouldn't have wanted to get the gang entangled with my private business."

Dutch looked at you with a touch of doubt. So did the man with the blonde hair, you didn’t appreciate how he checked you out. Not just to find out if you weren’t a trap and had the law behind you, but purely sexual, trying to determine what you hid under your clothes. His gaze was unsettling.

"Anyways", you continued, "I read the paper recently and figured you'd appreciate an extra gun."

"How did you find us?", the blonde guy interrupted.

"Some of you guys can be tracked down quite easily", you smiled sympathetically, "I had some work in Annesburg and...well, your grocery runs..."

You'd rather blame Pearson for leading you to camp than Arthur. As far as you were concerned, you hadn't seen Arthur since he had broken your heart a year ago.

Dutch chuckled and it sounded strangely cold and tense, "Good to know we've got you back. We wouldn't want you as our enemy."

"Never", you smiled honestly, "Just tell me what needs to be done, I'll do it. I owe you for letting me roam for a year."

Dutch put a hand on your shoulder, then invited you to get comfortable. The remaining day was spent with talking to people, putting down your bedroll and sneaking some spices into Pearson’s stew. It was a matter of getting accustomed to camp life again, and frankly, you enjoyed having other people around. The only thing you avoided doing was getting close to Arthur and he didn’t seem keen on approaching you either.

By far the best aspect of being back at camp was catching up with everybody. You hadn’t realised how much you had missed all those familiar faces. Whenever you did a chore, you actually felt helpful, because there were people that needed and depended on you doing your part. Playing with Jack for an hour was rewarded with Abigail being thankful and looking way more relaxed. Putting some more spices in Pearson's stew was appreciated with winks and relieved smiles. But you never forgot the purpose of your return. Three days had passed, and still, not a single word had passed between you and Arthur. Your worry grew that the man might be seriously angry at you. 

While you thought about this on your third night, tending to the camp fire while everyone else was slowly retreating to their bedrolls, you saw Micah approach. It was his low chuckle that made you look up.

Now, three days had been plenty of time for the girls to warn you about him and his two suspicious companions. Apparently, he managed to sneak them into the gang without getting Dutch’s actual approval first – and you knew that wasn’t exactly a simple thing to do. Your muscles tensed as Micah closed the distance between you.

"Miss y/l/n", he made a half-assed bow before sitting down on a chair close to you, "I think we never had the pleasure of a proper introduction."

"You know who I am, I know who you are, Mr. Bell", you said coldly, focusing on the flames, "I don't think we need more introducing."

"It's just…", the man uttered and made some weird noises with his mouth, as if he was licking his lips, but you weren't looking at him, "I don't know if I can trust you. You just appeared, all of a sudden."

Raising an eyebrow, you responded: "You mean like your pawns? Joe and what-was-his-name? Pete?"

You observed Micah shift uncomfortably in his chair before replying: "Cleet and Joe know how to fight."

"So do I", you shot back sharply. Finally, you looked the man in the face. The warm, flickering orange of the fire cast him in a light that made his features look more intense than they were at daylight. The shadows danced menacingly across his face. You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Micah Bell, but you knew Arthur didn't like him, neither did Abigail or Mary-Beth...or anyone, really.

Micah made the mistake of placing his hands on the table and leaning in, his voice dropping to a whisper: "Women like you-"

But you swiftly interrupted him, drawing your hunting knife and driving it into the table next to Micah's hand. For a fleeting moment, his eyes gleamed dangerously and you feared he'd take the knife and gut you. Instead, he leaned back casually with a chuckle: "Yer a feisty one, aren't you?"

You swallowed, unsure if you were brave enough to continue this conversation. Making an enemy wasn't exactly your plan, especially if Micah could, in any way, become an inconvenience for your little escape plan. But you sighed, stood up and said with the steadies voice you managed: "I recommend you don't find out." You left the knife in the table, just to spare you the embarrassment of failing to pull it out of the wood smoothly.  

You turned your back and strode away, your stomach churning with the adrenaline of the confrontation. Normally, you wouldn't be so bold…but "normally" you didn't have to deal with guys like Micah. Sure, the gang had seen their share of members that were disrespectful, especially towards women – but never like this. Micah’s aura alone made you shiver.

Making your way to your horse, you soothed your nerves by tending to the animal, offering it a few carrots and stroking its mane. Patiently, you waited until Micah retreated from the fire and went into the cave. As the camp settled into quiet stillness, only disturbed by the rustle of leaves and the sound of your horses’ hooves, you retrieved your knife and headed back.

As you passed Arthur’s tent, you caught a whisper of your name. You paused, curiously.

The flaps were partially closed, but when you peeked inside, you saw him standing next to his table, the warm light of a lantern warmly filling the tent. It almost looked cozy, certainly better than your bedroll on the dirty and hard ground. Arthur’s gaze was intense as he looked at you. You asked "Yeah?", hoping he’d clarify if he wanted to talk or something, but Arthur didn’t reply.  Hesitantly, you stepped inside his tent, your hand still holding the canvas open, just in case you read the situation completely wrong.

It was only when you came closer that you saw his features were irritated. He approached you with a big step, grabbed you by the arm and pulled you further into the tent, so nobody outside would see that you’d just entered

"What the hell were you thinking?", Arthur spit at you, eyebrows furrowed and the grip around your arm tightening.

"What I was thinking?", you tried to speak calmly.

You knew exactly what he was referring to. Arthur had picked up the conversation as if you had just walked into camp five minutes ago and not like three days had passed already. You continued: "That I won't sit tight for a week and wait to see if you've made it out."

"Y/n...", Arthur sighed disappointedly.

"Arthur please", you wailed, trying to loosen his grip around your arm. He let go, not before his thumb lightly caressed the area his fingers had been digging in, as if to apologize.

You looked the man straight in the eye. He was still somewhat angry, but so were you. Though you found your anger insignificant under the scorn of this big man and you hated being on the receiving end of it.

Arthur finally averted his gaze: "I can't save you too."

"You won't have to", you replied sternly.

Arthur sat down on his chair, sighing as if he had just been told his mother had died. He didn't look at you, standing there like a scolded child.

"Did you read the note?", Arthur asked after a while, referring to his good-bye letter that you had crumpled and disappear under your bed, before your eyes could read any sorry, love-sickening words or promises that wouldn’t be kept.

"No!", you replied quickly, "I saw you left one, I didn't bother."

"Look, Arthur", you tried desperately to get the man on your side again, "I don't know how the train heist'll go. Maybe you die, maybe I die. Maybe we'll fail to safe whoever needs saving. But then I got at least...four days left to spend with you."

Arthur looked at you sadly.

"Because I won't go back to my fucking cabin and mourn you like I've mourned you the last months. I'll keep you alive. Or I die trying, I don't really give a fuck", tears pricked your eyes. Gosh, this place was depressing. You wished you could speak more calmly, more put together...but you understood why everybody behaved like a nut-case around here. Somehow, the forest sucked out all the joy you have.

"Okay", Arthur sighed, and he looked like he could understand or was at least ready to end the discussion. He opened his posture a little, nodding towards him as if to invite you. You approached slowly, not quite sure of what he expected you to do.

"Come 'ere", he mumbled. You sat down on his lap, snaking his arms around his body while he did the same. The two of you had been close when you made out. There had been barely any distance between you, when you had cut his hair. However, this was different. You nuzzled your face into his neck in the silence of the night, with no other intention but to be close to him. Finally, you had time to bask in his scent.

It was a calming scent, familiar somehow. Homely, in the best of ways. It calmed you down. All the while, Arthur enjoyed your closeness just as much; pressing you tighter to him, enjoying the proximity he had denied you when you had asked if he wanted to sleep next to each other’s. He didn't know how much he had needed that. A warm, loving body in his embrace. He felt your fingers restlessly scratching his jacket, as if they tried to complain about the extra layer. He felt your breath down his neck and your body squirming on his lap.

The two of you sat like that for a while. Arthur started to caress your hair, letting his fingers run through your strands while he waited for you to calm your breathing.

Arthur realized that he was making a mistake. He loved the way your body pressed down on him, loved how your body moved and reacted to his subtle touches. He absolutely feared and hated that he would crave the feeling forever. He had denied sleeping next to you only a few days prior because he knew both of you would suffer if either one dies. It’s similar to being parched, only to be allowed a small sip of water. Enough to satisfy you for the moment, but making you realize how much you really craved water. This embrace was the same.

"Can't stay here, can I?", as if you had read his thoughts, you smiled sadly and peeled yourself off Arthur. He moved his arms reluctantly from your body and glanced to his cot.

He'd prefer it too...to have you lie on top of him, sleeping peacefully.

You spoke again before he could answer: "I always fear that this camp'll be overrun by Murfrees at night."

"Charles 'n I killed probably most of ‘em. There wouldn't be enough to bother us", Arthur tried to reassure you. His voice was a little dreamy, as if the image of you two sharing a cot was still very vivid on his mind.  

"Yeah...", you replied and stood up. Arthur's hands slid into yours, so that you now were holding hands as you stood next to him. The affectionate gestured surprised you a little, it send a pleasurable tingle into your stomach.

"Good night, then", you sighed and brushed your thumb over Arthur's back of his hand.

"G'd night, darlin'", Arthur mumbled. He might have been disappointed that you came to camp but softening him was as easy as putting old bread in a bowl of soup. And there he was, all soft and soggy after five minutes intimacy. Admittedly, you felt softened and calmed down too. You wouldn’t have been able to sleep after your little run-in with Micah, if it hadn’t been for the fact that you and Arthur had now made up. Your goal and purpose was in clear sight again; somehow protect this man and be there for him, in case Dutch or anyone else betrays him again.  

Satisfied, you walked to your bedroll and crept onto in, falling asleep quiet easily.

-

Nothing much would be happening until the train job in a few days – at least, that was what you believed. Of course, you were wrong.

The next day, you had volunteered to go on a grocery run with Uncle and Pearson. You had never been particularly close with them, but it wasn’t a detective’s job to see them whisper about something behind your back. While you waited in front of the grocery store and watched the young boys that helped out load your carriage, the two men walked off to the train station. They gave you some mumbled excuse, you had barely understood what they had said, but now you watched them in the distance as they ran their fingers over the train’s schedule. On their way back to you, you could pinpoint the precise moment they realised your eyes were on them, because they straightened their backs and put on innocent smiles. You gave them a sympathetic smile in return.

On the ride back, there was an uncomfortable silence between the three of you, before Pearson finally asked: "Why did you come back, y/n? You said you saw the papers...you should know that this won't last much longer..."

"Well…”, a quick grin hushed over your face before you forced yourself to sound more serious, “I said I would be back. And I'm loyal to Dutch." As soon as the word “loyal” had left your lips, you saw the men stiffening, Uncle shooting dangerous gazes to Pearson.

You let them hang in suspense and fear a few moments longer, before you smiled and snorted: "Oh, relax. I'm just fucking with you."

The flabbergasted faces of the men made you laugh.

"I came back to help Arthur to get everyone out before it's too late", you said truthfully and before you could add something, Uncle laughed triumphantly: "I knew it! Mary-Beth will be so happy to hear that you two are together!"

Your cheeks grew warm so quickly, you had barely registered Pearson’s words. Then you fumbled with the reins and tried to put some force behind your words: "I never said anything about being together with Arthur."

"But you were in his tent yesterday, weren't you?", Uncle asked in a manner that suggested he already knew the answer, and so did the girls and whoever he gossips with, apparently. So, you didn't say anything and chewed your inner cheek.

This was the perfect moment to change the topic and make the men aware that you figured they want to leave camp. You would help them - this was why you were there, after all.

Finally, you managed to swallow and said: "Anyways...I have guard duty from 2 am until the morning. You can slip away during that time...if you're in Annesburg before the sun's out, you should be in the clear", you said, eyes on the road.

"You're a good one, y/n", Pearson said happily, "Though I don't quite agree with the way you overseason my stew-"

"I can't overseason what's not seasoned in the first place!", you interrupted loudly, but it was in a friendly manner.

They briefly talked about what they'd take with them, that Mary-Beth would join them and you listened, already coming up with excuses on how it could happen that three people disappeared while you had guard duty. It felt like you had it all figured out. It was a relief to know that three people would be taken care of by tomorrow. The harder was the punch in the face when you arrived back at camp and found most of the men missing.  

The Indians had come and asked for help at the oil factory, and Dutch had jumped at the opportunity. You had a terrible feeling, but you knew that riding after them wouldn't make much sense, so you bided your time until most of them returned...without Arthur and Charles, that is.

The question burned on your tongue. Where was Arthur? Was he okay? But as far as you were concerned, officially, nobody knew that the two of you were on speaking-terms. You couldn’t exactly walk up to Javier and ask him where your lover was. Maybe, you could have asked John, but you would have felt like an idiot for being so worried after only a couple of hours.

Arthur returned at sunset, grumpy face and slouching shoulders. When you approached him, he shot you a warning gaze. Not a dangerous gaze that made you think he was mad at you, but a silent warning, a peep at Dutch, and then he disappeared, walking off to eat an apple at the outskirts of camp. Charles hadn't returned, so you thought something might have happened to him, but Sadie finally filled you in on the details. The chief's son had been shot, was probably dead now, but nobody in the gang had been hurt, as far as she knows.

You waited a few more minutes, before you stalked after Arthur, finding him sitting in the dirt and watching the river in the distance.

Arthur briefly twisted his head in your direction as if to make sure that it really was you. He gave you no sign of recognition or invitation to join him, you simply heard a sigh, then saw some more smoke puffing from the cigarette between his lips.

"Dutch…he…He saw that a man was about to gut me, and jus’ walked away”, Arthur stumped his cigarette on a tree like an angry child would kick a stone, “Eagle Flies’s dead, 'cause of me…"

You weren’t quite sure if you understood what had happened at the oil factory, but you sensed that Arthur was extremely upset about it. Somehow, you couldn’t just say something bad about Dutch, because it didn’t matter if he had left Arthur – you hadn’t been there to begin with. Yet, staying at Arthur’s side was the sole reason you now sat down in the moist earth of this unsettling forest. Even now, you though you heard somebody scream in the distance and the darkness swapped places with the setting sun quickly spread throughout the woods and distorted shadows in the distance.

There was only little space left between you and Arthur, as you sat next to each other, watching water flow down the river. If anyone from camp saw you like that, they could probably put one and one together; but right now, you couldn't care less.

Had you ever seen Arthur so hurt and unsure of everything? You remembered, unfortunately quiet vividly, how under the weather the man was when Mary had to reject him or when he heard that she had married another. Back then, the whole camp felt Arthur’s sour mood and had done its best to offer distraction and ease the burden he normally carried a little bit. Today, you were the only one who seemingly had noticed that he wasn’t feeling well. Given the hostile mood at camp, this was probably for the best.

"He was a good guy, then? Eagle Flies...?", you asked quietly, sensing that Arthur would like to say a few more words about it.

"Yes. Hot headed and easily twisted by Dutch's speeches, unfortunately. Dutch did more damage to the tribe than..., well, I don't know. He was the chief's only son. And Rain Falls is...maybe wiser than a fool like me can ever hope of becoming", Arthur was brabbling, mumbling his words, making them tricky to follow. You tried your best, nonetheless.

"Thought I'd stay with 'em. Help 'em bag and leave...", Arthur admitted, his fingers brushed over the soil, picking out dried blades of grass, "Charles sent me back 'nd said there's people here needing me."

This caught you off guard. Leaving with the tribe would mean leave you behind with this mad bunch of degenerates, with Micah and his companions that looked at you like they just waited for an opportunity to catch you alone. Could you blame him, though? His father figure and mentor was ready to let Arthur be killed off.

It was at this point that you truly realised: The gang would be no longer.

Also, Arthur had no obligation nor responsibility for you. It had been your choice to leave your comfortable home to try and protect him here. Maybe it had been a bad idea to begin with. You should have stayed at your cabin and prayed or asked witches to bring Arthur back to you. The two of you weren't a couple. Arthur might have admitted to feel something for you, but that didn’t have to mean anything…not in the world he lived in.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Arthur was leaning in before he pressed a gentle kiss onto your temple.

"I love ya", he mumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or several, actually, and your mind was blank.

Two minutes of quietly trying to convince yourself that the outlaw next to you, can’t possibly commit to anything, that the last time you spent together at you cabin and made out could have been a dream, and now he straight up told you that he…

It was your surprised and blank face that prompted Arthur to say: " 's okay. Ya don't 've to say it back. Or feel the same. 's just...almost dying...", Arthur swallowed. There was something like fear in his eyes, like he was rethinking his entire life, regretting the paths he had walked, the people he had killed. And not having told you sooner.

"You won't die. Not if I can help it", you assured, those were the only words you managed to say.

Arthur chuckled sadly: "Bullets travel fast."

You looked at each other as if you had walked into a dead end. Arthur had just told you that he loved you and you couldn’t say it back…or were afraid to say it back? You had already said something similar, a few days back, why did this feel so much more important?

Then you shared a hesitant smile.

"Oh, yeah”, you started again, “Pearson, Uncle and Mary-Beth are thinking of leaving tomorrow at dawn. I'm on guard duty, so they'll have safe passage."

"Okay", Arthur nodded, "come 'n see me at night before ya take yer post. I got s’mthing for yer..."

You nodded confusedly, but with peaked interest.

Nobody had to wake you at 2 am, because you had barely managed to fall asleep. It would be another half an hour before you swapped with Javier, so you took your time to warm up some coffee. Cup in hand, you sneaked into Arthur’s tent.

The man was completely knocked out and snoring on his tiny cot. As much as you loved the idea of sleeping in his tent with him, both of you would never fit on it. Arthur slept peacefully, sprawled out and without fear that someone hostile would sneak up on his. And yet, here you were. Disturbing him felt like a crime, but he had practically told you to wake him.

"Arthur", you whispered and put your cup down on the table, lighting the lantern so he'd see you when he woke and not get startled. When he didn’t react, you repeated his name slightly louder.

Nothing. You thought hard; was it really that important to wake him up? Couldn't it wait until the morning? If anyone, Arthur really deserved his sleep. The curiosity though...

"It's me," you said, now lightly touching his shoulder. This did the trick, Arthur opened his eyes and shot up. It reminded you of trying to pet a cat when it was asleep – it would always wake up as if you had stepped on its tail.

"Oh", Arthur's shoulders relaxed when he realised it was you. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, adapting to the dim light in the tent and groaned, "Gimme a second."

"D-don't worry", you stuttered, now definitely feeling bad for waking him.

You watched as he stretched his legs and ran his hands over his face, trying to shake the sleepiness. After a few more moments, he stood up and walked over to his wardrobe chest. With an aching and tired groan, he pulled out a holster and a gun belt which was already dressed with bullets.

"I wore this when I was 'bit smaller", Arthur commented, his voice deep and gravelly. He walked up to you, placing the holster on the belt and then gently putting it around your waist. Though sleep-drunk, Arthur tried his best to not touch you anywhere inappropriate. You smiled affectionately as Arthur closed the belt buckle and mumbled: "I won't let you go in a fight with your gun crammed into yer pants."

That being said, he pulled your gun out of your waistband. You didn't stop him, as he briefly inspected the weapon, finding it in acceptable condition and dropping it into your new holster.

"Might need to adjust it, t’have it sit right. Guess you got the rest of the night to figure out which height you wanna wear it", as Arthur's raspy sleep voice faded, you noticed a sad undertone.

"Thank you, truly", you said, rattling the belt lightly to make it sit better.

"Sure", Arthur tried to crack a smile.

You held eye contact for a few seconds. Something needed to happen. Either one of you had to admit that they were deeply worried the other one would die later tonight or a hug, a kiss...anything. You knew that Arthur felt the same, that he was itching to break the silence, but neither of you found the courage.

"I'll...go on guard duty now. Wouldn't want to see Uncle and the rest try'n slip away with Javier still keeping guard."

"Sure", Arthur repeated and sat down on the cot, more than ready to go back to sleep, "Call on me if there's trouble."

You nodded, took your cup and walked out the tent.

The swap went smoothly, as were the first one and a half hours and then you heard something in camp stir behind you. About quarter of an hour later, Uncle, Pearson, Mary-Beth and Karen stood before you. Well, Karen was lying on a waggon, snoring. Uncle had mounted the horse that was pulling the little waggon and the other two were on foot, smiling at you hesitantly.

"You've got some money on you?", you asked, almost in a whisper.

"God damn it, we should have known that she wanted something for leaving us go!", Uncle cursed, and you couldn't quite tell if it was being sarcastic or not.

"No, you idiot", you complained, as friendly as you managed, "Money for your train. For a life afterwards, I don't know...to get a some fucking distance between you and this rat hole."

"Oh", you heard Uncle mumbled and it irritated you that he really believed you would want them to pay.

Pearson answered: "We got a few bucks. Should last for at least one or two stations."

You shook the head and pulled out a ten-dollar bill – your savings and the only money you had taken from home. "Take some more then, and hurry. I'll sweep the tracks behind you. Stay on the main road", you quickly rambled because you realized the sooner they leave, the better.

It was dark, the light of the moon barely reached the ground and the dim lantern they had was soon swallowed up by the trees. You grabbed an old broom and swept away their tracks for about 50 yards before you went back to your post.

Before most people started rising, you put on some coffee and used the last bit of porridge that had been in a big sack at the supplies pile to make some proper breakfast. For one thing, nobody would start wondering about Pearson's absence as quickly and for another, you might as well use the last pit of porridge, ideally, you won't be here tomorrow to suffer from its absence. You'd either be long gone or lying dead in a ditch as food for ravens - either way, the porridge won't be of any use for you. Neither would it be for Jack, John, Abigail, Arthur...and the other half decent people that were still here. Ideally.

Nobody seemed to notice that people were missing, expect for Miss Grimshaw - but she kept quiet for some reason. Arthur gave you a knowing smile when he passed you to get some coffee, as you retired again to catch up on some sleep.

Your nerves woke you some time before noon. The men were loading their weapons and brushing their horses. The suspense in the air quickly got rid of your remaining tiredness. This was your first big job, after all. Every moment your brain woke up from its slumber, you realised that you had never done anything similar before. You had robbed the odd fella and held up a couple of waggons…but robbing a train with army pay roll? You wondered if you hadn’t overestimated yourself.

As you stood up and got dressed, you noticed Arthur standing close to the cave and having a discussion with Dutch. The cold glares they exchanged sent shivers down your spine.

As you passed Arthur’s tent, a letter caught your attention. It was, besides the lantern, the only thing that occupied his table and you were sure that it hadn’t been there at night. You wouldn’t have though much of it, hadn’t you caught the name “Mary” on the cover. A quick glance at Arthur reassured you that he was all packed up, now somewhat agitatedly walking to his horse with the rest of the men. You made a couple of big steps, grabbed the letter and you eyes passed quickly over the lines “From Mary, To Arthur” before it startled you that there was something besides paper in this cover.

This was when Dutch’s shout: “Let’s ride!” echoed through camp. You slipped the letter into your satchel and joined the others.

You would never have admitted it, but you were anxious. Again, in your mind, you went through the clientele that you had robbed before. Drunk fools, rich looking travellers that weren’t significantly armed…any situation where you clearly had the upper hand. when you ran with the gang. Alone, you had stopped one or the other rich looking traveller. This, however, would be a battle for survival. Ideally, you had the money and would slip away before anything happened, but everyone knew that bullets would be flying sooner or later.

While riding, you stuck close to Sadie. You craved talking to Arthur, hell, as much as a comfort-providing look would have been great...but there wasn't any. Your anxiety only rose when he rode off with John to get some dynamite and you were stuck with the rest...You knew Sadie was fine, the others were not entirely trustworthy. Micah used the absence of Arthur and John, maybe the only men who would have been ready to defend you, to fall back in the group and make some “small talk”.

"You sure you're ready for this? Fine lady like you shouldn’t play outlaw with the men", Micah chuckled sarcastically. You were glad when Sadie interrupted him and threatened to cut his balls off, if he didn't shut up. You couldn't have come up with a witty reply for the life of it, you worried way too much about how the next two hours would turn out. The feeling of having to throw up was somewhat overwhelming, had you opened your mouth, you doubted something good would have left it.

Only when Arthur and John rejoined the group, you calmed slightly.

Things took their run. You had to ride hard to catch that train, your mind going crazy about the commands Dutch yelled every opportunity he got. You didn't understand why he wanted you to board the train - Sadie and Cleet were to board the train half-way, John, Arthur and you should jump on at the end. There wasn't any time to talk back or complain, even though Arthur didn’t seem to agree with that either.  

You steered your horse closer and closer to the waggon as Arthur rode up beside you: "Jump!" he yelled, because he had noticed you hesitated for a few seconds too long. You sent him an unsure gaze, which he took as a sign to board the train first. He made it look easy, jumping on a train that was going at the speed of...well, a train. Your horses had trouble keeping up.

But as Arthur extended a hand to show you that he'd catch you, you inhaled, untangled your feet from the stirrups and took a leap of faith. Unceremoniously, you crashed into Arthur, who did his best so you wouldn't fall over. You had barely collected your bearings, when John yelled at the two of you: "Come on, push!"

The thought that this has been a terrible idea crossed your mind multiple times as you struggled to keep up with the two men. It was them who shot most of the enemies, you were happy with sometimes hiding behind a corner and aimlessly firing at the guards, so they'd have to hide and give John and Arthur the time to reload. Hunting unsuspecting deer and rabbits did not compare to shooting at humans, you concluded, as you missed three shots. But your attempt was enough to make the guard hesitate before aiming his weapon at John, which was the split second that Arthur needed to gun him down.

This game continued for a couple of wagons. You jumped over crates and climbed on the roof of wagons that you were surprised of how much your body was capable. Your only goal was to not get left behind by the two men. Arthur sometimes turned around to make sure you were still following properly, but both of you were so out of breath, that it wouldn’t have worked to exchange a few words.

You didn't know how or why, but all of a sudden, the wagon in front of you had caught fire. John was quickest to react to Bill's yell to jump on his horse. Arthur looked anxiously between you and Dutch, who now called for him to jump on his. Riding behind Dutch was your last available option for a lift: Micah. Arthur was about to open his mouth, but Dutch pressured him to jump already. You whirled around and almost jumped happily, when you saw your horse straining to keep close to the train at the other side.

You whistled and it understood. Not even thinking about not making the jump really helped. You simply jumped, almost slipped from the guardrails but somehow grabbed onto your horse. Your fingers tightened around its mane, the reins fluttering around too vividly to catch it. Clutched your legs around the horse as tightly as you could, your spurred it on to skip the burning waggon. You stopped fearing for either your or Arthur's life at this moment. Hell, your only loyal companion the last couple of years had been your horse and you swore if a bullet as much as grazed it, you would find the gun that had done it and kill the owner barehanded, if needed.

Arthur was already on the next waggon and as he shouted at John to uncouple the burning one before it blows up the train, he positioned himself again, ready to catch you if needed. It was a smoother boarding than your first try, Arthur only gripped your elbow so you wouldn't topple over.

Arthur's eyes were already fixed on the gatling gun, then he pointed at  acouple of crates: "Hide there!"

Arthur shoved you behind the crates and you saw a panic in his eyes as everyone noticed a man on a cliff in the distance that alarmed everyone of the crime in act.  

Suddenly, everything happened awfully quick. Arthur had just finished putting the gun together and John had manged to unhinge the burning wagon. Three seconds later, it gave a loud boom and the waggon toppled over. For a few moments, you heard nothing. Your ears tried to adjust from the explosion to the constant noise of the train rattling through its tracks, when one gunshot pierced the air. John fell off the train like a sack of potatoes.

You hadn’t even seen where the shot had come from, but the man was dead before he could fire another - Arthur had been quick to draw his gun.

"I'll get John! You protect that money!", Dutch yelled, he and the rest of the riders turned their horses around. Looking at Arthur’s sceptical face, you knew that he didn’t believe Dutch would actually look out for John.

"I'll go stop the train!", Bill yelled.

Arthur spun around, carrying a case with ammunition for the gatling: "Whatever you do, do not stop the train! You secure up ahead but keep us movin'! I'll deal with the patrol when they come through!"

While the others ran off, Arthur rpinted towards you: "Go collect John. I don't trust Dutch to not jus' leave him."

"He's probably dead! I won't leave you too-", you quickly answered, out of breath.

"No!", Arthur interrupted, "You go collect him and I'll meet ya at yer cabin with Abigail 'n Jack!"

"I can't just-"

"Yes! You can god damn it!", Arthur was irritated. You were running out of time. The first bullet of the patrol hit the waggon, "Listen t' me. Yer gonna be fine and I'm gonna be fine. Here-"

Arthur took of his hat and pressed it onto your head.

And that didn't feel right. It was like he gave up his most prized possession. It didn't even fit but wobbled uncomfortably on your smaller head.

"No", you croaked. Your throat became dry from all the yelling, otherwise you wouldn’t understand each other because of the noise. Not again. Not again this “good-bye” scenario. He couldn't leave a letter, so he left you with his hat?

"It’s a promise", Arthur explained, "I'll get my hat back, understand? You jus’ take care of it for now."

You shook your head violently, the hat wobbled: “Take care of your hat, take care of your journal! I don’t want to-“

"If there's as much as a scratch on it", Arthur tried to joke, but it didn't sound like a joke. His voice was serious and stern. Then he grabbed you by the collar and lifted you up from your cowering position behind the crates. He lifted you like one would lift one’s opponent in a fight, just to have them on eye-level before delivering the punch to their face.

"I'll meet ya at yer cabin", Arthur promised again, and his face was so close, you thought he might kiss you, but then another bullet from the patrol splintered the wood of the crates you had sat behind a moment before.

Arthur said something that confused you: "Watch yer head" and before you could make sense of the words, Arthur pushed you against the shoulders and you went flying off the train. The second before you hit the ground, rolling along and crashing into a tree you remembered to keep your head up and it might have prevented you from dying, because the impact was brutal.

When you crashed into the tree you thought you were dead. You couldn't breathe. Everything went black for a few seconds before your body spasmed up in panic, trying to get air into your lungs. It didn't happen.

You were going to suffocate. You struggled for air until you were too exhausted to try. You were lying in the dirt, your whole body hurting, with no air in your lungs.

In the last possible second, when your vision already became blurry, the smallest bit of air filled your lungs and prolonged your suffering a little longer, until the next tiny gasp for air.

You didn’t know how long you'd been lying there before you managed to breath somewhat normally, ignoring the excruciating pain that each breath brought you.

In between blinking you saw Arthur's hat lying some feet away and wondered if that had been the real joke; to protect his hat while flying off a train.

Your first action was to crawl to the hat and put it on, no matter how pathetic it looked. Arthur had pushed you so far, you were surrounded by trees and shrubbery. Even if another patrol rode next to the tracks, he wouldn't see you.

With all the strength you could muster, you pushed yourself into a standing position on a tree and fought your way through the woods.

John was surely dead, or Dutch and the rest had done their job and collected him. It made no sense to spend your energy walking back, but you did so anyways. Your hands always reached for the nearest trunk to hold on to, your left leg didn’t react well to the weight you tried to put on it, so you just dragged it.

To your surprise, when you closed in on the man lying on the tracks, he was moving - and still there.

"John?", you wheezed, struggling to catch your breath, anxiously looking around. Nobody was close, even the train was so far ahead by now, that the gun shots were muffled.

When you got no response, you nudged John with your boots which made him blink lazily. There was blood seeping through his shirt and jacket. Had you ever seen so much blood? It was his left shoulder, too.

For a few seconds you just stood there, wondering. Would he even survive? How should you get him to your cabin?

In an act of desperation, you whistled, hoping your horse would be close by. And it was. You had to hold back tears of joy when it came galloping along.

"John", you squatted next to him, even though the movement hurt you greatly, "Come on, we gotta get out of here. I can't lift you on my horse alone."

Thank God, your horse was well trained and knew how to lower itself for people to get on from the ground. You still had to pull and push the half-conscious man, but you had a significantly easier time. Your body ached from all the straining, and you were quiet sure that whatever damage you had taken from the fall was significantly worsened by the exercise, but it wasn’t like you had a real choice.

You rode, as fast as the constitution of your horse would allow, straight to your cabin. The sun was setting when you arrived. John had passed out a couple of times during the ride, and it was only when you had given him some alcohol to drink and had cleaned and bandaged his wound, that he passed out - but snoring and quiet peacefully.

You had no time to inspect your own body and assess the damage the fall had done, because as soon as you were done with John and had thrown him onto your bed, you heard a horse approach.

Jack and Tilly.

According to Tilly, Arthur was still alive, but had gone to Annesburg with Sadie to get Abigail who had been taken by Pinkertons. This scared you shitless, but at this point you were too exhausted to show it. Instead, you offered Jack something to eat and then had the two of them settle down inside the house. You waited at the garden gate, listening for riders.

It was dark and almost midnight when you saw a dim light in the distance. It came from the opposite direction of where you'd expected Arthur to come from, so you pulled your gun. But soon, you were able to make out the rider. The dim light of a lantern illuminated Sadie and behind her on the horse, Abigail.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Last chapter: here

I apologize for the many typos, but I figured it was better the chapter would see the light of day instead of rotting in my drafts any longer. Took me way too long to begin with heh.

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon @nervousmumbling @pheesupremacy @destroyer-of-za-warudo @ratbrainbabycowboyprincess

[jinisnuggets]

１２:４５

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʷᵒᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵍᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ, ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 1.4ᵏ

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᶜᵒᵘᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ, ᵈⁱˢᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ, ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ, ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵉʳ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ, ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᶜᵘʳˢⁱⁿᵍ, ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ᵏⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ, ⁱᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ, ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱˢᵗᵃᵏᵉ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵠᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉᶜˡⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵘⁿᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ, ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ.

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: ⁱ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ, ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵗᵉᵉᶻ, ⁱⁿˢᵖⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʷᵒᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵗʰᵃᵐ'ˢ ¹²:⁴⁵.

September 9th, Tuesday, 12:40 AM.

Wooyoung was walking along the breeze of the sidewalk, looking out into the water’s darkness, building lights off and the city sounding peacefully quiet.

Dark clouds that were barely visible in the sky, and the only audible noise being that of the light breeze that pushed against the trees.

feeling awfully calm after everything that just happened, annoyance and anger brushing away from his mind.

Stopping for a moment and looked down at his pocket, the only light source was that of his phone. He sighed, grabbing his phone from his pocket and dismissing the call.

He was tired of all the calls he had received that night. After all, he didn't feel in the right mood to answer correctly, he knew he was just gonna be a jerk to anyone who was on the other side of the phone.

Among checking the time on his brightened phone screen, he read 12:43.

It was time to go home, and he knew it, but he wouldn't be at peace yet.

Wooyoung and you had gotten into a bit of an argument, it went from a little chat to full on screams. Although you and Wooyoung had argued before, it had never gotten so bad to the point that he left your apartment before you got to say anything.

This was the first time you both went full on yells, first time one of you left before you could make up. Everything on his mind was so blurry that he couldn't remember the last thing he said before storming out.

But he could remember your words clear as day.

Part of him felt guilty… for yelling at you the way he did, for losing his temper the way he did, for not understanding your way of thought.

He couldn't be at ease with himself until he apologized, and of course, he needed an apology too. Your argument in general seemed silly, but at one point it just became a load of insults, which was when he lost it completely.

All of a sudden, he spotted a small light in the distance. It was a small bar at the end of the street, he'd been there a few times with San, enough to know that it was only ever busy during the early hours of the night.

Although he didn't have the intention of getting drunk, he decided it would be helpful to have a drink or two, everything that he remembered was bothering him, and he wanted to spend time in a silent, secluded area where he wouldn't run into anyone.

Wooyoung entered the small building, the bar was empty except for the bartender, who automatically noticed Wooyoung’s tired and exhausted expression, he could tell he had cried for a few minutes.

“What would you like?” Wooyoung sat down on the counter, and looked at the bartender.

“Just one shot for now.” The bartender nodded, and served him his drink.

“Anything you'd like to share?” The bartender sounded quite sincere, and concerned for him, Wooyoung shaked his head.

“Just normal partner arguments.” The bartender nodded.

“Even those can affect someone badly, it might just be a normal part of relationships but to some it's really serious.”

Wooyoung, again, just nodded.

“I can tell you really love your girlfriend.” Wooyoung drank his glass and placed it on the table.

“More than anything.”

Right that instant, another call rang… the phone which was on the table laying flat, lit up and buzzed as the incoming call rang.

“♡ Yn ♡”

The bartender looked at Wooyoung, already knowing that it was his girlfriend, Wooyoung who was looking back at him, quickly looked back at his phone screen and moved his finger to the decline button.

The bartender quickly looked back up at Wooyoung in shock.

“You can pick up! You probably need it right now…”

“She’s been calling me nonstop, I just need a break.”

The bartender leaned back from his tense position, bringing his arms back down to their original state.

“What-?” Wooyoung scooted his glass over, while leaning on the table.

“I love her… but I just need tonight off.” Wooyoung got up from his seat, and pushed his chair in.

“Thanks for the chat. I hope you have a lovely night.”

The bartender watched him as he left. “Yes, of course.. you too.”

After his visit, he went back home, and finally got some rest. However the next morning he woke up early, took a shower and made his way to your apartment.

“Coming!” The scream of your lovely voice echoed through your room, he couldn't help but smile at your rushed self who continued dropping things on the way to the door.

He saw the familiar decorations start coming into view, the same lights he saw yesterday, the same kitchen, the same hallway, and best of all, the same face.

“Wooyoung!” You gasped, almost not believe your eyes upon seeing him in front of your room.

“I thought you were upset..” you said lowly, almost inaudible.

“We need to talk.” the words coming out of Wooyoung’s mouth was one of the scariest things you could hear. Things started circling in your head, was this the end of your relationship? Was this the end of your memories together?

“Stop overthinking. I'm not breaking up with you.”

He welcomed himself in your apartment, you turned around in shock, if he wanted to visit he should've told you in advance.

“Wooyoung, unless you wanna wait then get out, I'm leaving for work.”

“Cancel it.” You turned around, trying to control yourself from saying something nasty to your boyfriend.

“I can't -”

“Do you wanna make up or make money? Your choice.”

You bit your lip at the question, trying to find an answer to give him, something that wouldn't sound rude.

“I’m visiting you right now because I have time. I'll be busy for a while, so we either make up or end it now.”

Stumbling over your words, you barely got out your sentence starter, before you were able to ask:

“Why break up??”

Wooyoung turned to face you again with a confused expression..

“Because we'll technically be in an argument for a really long time, since I won't see you in a few months.”

“And we have to break up because of a stupid tour?”

“And you can't talk because of your stupid job?”

Wooyoung stood over you, his normal joking pitch was gone, he began to sound angry. You pushed his last button and you knew it.

“I’m sorry, I know these tours are important to you, I didn't think twice about my words just now.”

“Forget it, if I can't communicate with you then it's ove-”

“Don't say that please…” He squeezed his eyes shut while hearing your saddened voice. You were about to cry and it was his fault.

He promised he would never make you cry, and here he was carelessly threatening you.

“I'm sorry, I couldn't break up with you even if I tried, please don't cry.” He pulled you into a hug, grabbing his hoodie and attempting to be strong, holding your tears and not allowing him to see your weak side.

“I hate you so much…” Wooyoung let out a small chuckle and held you tighter.

“No you don't… I can be a jerk… but you could never.”

You hit him, it was your way of saying ‘shut up’ to him, all he did was laugh a bit, while pulling your face from your hidden state and bringing you in front of him.

It was unexpected, you felt his lips touch yours in a warm manner, the innocent kiss soon became wet, and getting more aggressive.

It would've escalated if you hadn't pushed him away.

“Why now? Weren't you just threatening me?”

“You know I didn't mean it… this is my way of telling you that I still love you, that will never change…”

[cainache]

once more to see you ♱ joel miller

Joel knows he’s no good for you.

He’s a rotten dog, untrained and crazed. There’s no use in loving a rotten dog when all they’ll do is bite at you. Eventually they get put down.

It’s late when he wakes. Still dark out and there’s barely any stars in the strips of sky. He wakes up awfully. Mind buzzing in panic and skin slick with a thin layer of sweat.

Another bad night of sleep. Another bad night of a dead daughter. It never goes away.

He sits at the edge of his bed in pain. Like someone’s wounded him, and I guess in a way someone has. This is a wound that will never close, because he keeps picking at the scab.

He drags his heavy hands over his dewy face and through his darkish-grey sprinkled untamed hair. He feels old.

You live upstairs, next floor above him.

It’s a quick and quiet walk to you. He does it all the time. Even past curfew, much like he’s doing now.

He knocks gently at first, he stands far from the door and looks down both ends of the hall in the dark.

Nothing happens for awhile. He knocks again, a little louder. He’s not trying to wake anyone else up but you. He’s sure no one would rat on him, but still.

His chest aches a little less when he hears the sudden click of a lock, your door is pulled open seconds after.

Joel doesn’t wait to see your face, he moves smoothly into your apartment past you—closes the door for you. Doesn’t lock it, incase he needs an escape.

The apartment smells like you and lavender, it calms his aching muscles down instantly. “Joel..” He barely hears you, it’s such a soft whisper, full of sleep and confusion. Your little sister is sleeping down the hall, and you don’t really enjoy him being here when she’s around. You don’t need her questions or judgement, she’s a teenager—it’s bedded into their systems with age.

He looks back over his shoulder at you, you look shorter than he remembers. He hasn’t seen you in a couple of days, almost a whole week. He isn’t necessarily attached to you, he knows he shouldn’t be, but he knows deep down you do something for him. Though, he can lie and say you don’t—but you can see past the lie, doesn’t mean other’s do.

You’ve got small shorts on, they look soft from where he stands. An oversized long sleeve covers your top half. Your hair is down and pooling over your shoulders and the front of your chest. Your feet are bare against the old wood flooring. He wonders if your feet are cold? Sleep glazes your eyes and he suddenly feels bad for standing here. For bothering you on one of his bad nights. His natural frown deepens. “Sorry,” is all he says.

You shake your head, gentle, your hair floats around at the action. You give him a small smile. “It’s okay.”

You look down the hall and he watches you, he regrets coming down here. Most times, when this happens, he drags you to his apartment in your sleep haze. He’s not sure why he’s still standing here. And he thinks you know he doesn’t want to leave, because he hasn’t fucking moved. He left the door unlocked for fuck sakes…

You turn and lock your door suddenly before you look back at him. You don’t say anything, you simply hold out your small, soft hand for him. He hesitates, for awhile. You don’t mind, you still hold your hand up. His eyes look up to yours and you raise a brow and nudge your hand out a bit more. He eventually takes it.

He lets you lead him down your hall. He tries to copy your exact steps, you seem to be stepping calculated. Almost like you’ve done this before, the late night walking, trying not to wake your little sister.

He misses the last step you take and the floor creaks too loudly. It makes him flinch a little. You don’t seem bothered by it, almost like you’d seen it coming. Maybe you don’t have much faith in him. He’s here.

He can hear a door suddenly open behind him, and your door in front of him opens at the same time. It makes his head feel more fuzzy.

He looks over his shoulder and meets your sister’s tired eyes. He can’t read her face, she’s just staring, curiously? Confused? Annoyed? Regardless Joel just nods at the younger girl, before he can’t see her anymore. You’ve gently pulled him into your room. You close and lock your door. He’s never seen your door locked before.

You let go of his hand and he feels cold again, he hadn’t realized he felt warm.

You’ve had a lamp on, next to your bed. You move towards your bed and crawl in, sheets engulfing you instantly.

He’s just staring. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, why he’s acting so off. So unlike him.. He’s done this before. He needs to move.

You eye him. His dark plain shirt and sweats that look too big for him. They are. “You okay?” You ask gently and he finally moves at your voice. He nods, toeing off his shoes before he sits on the edge of your bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He doesn’t. You know he doesn’t, but you give him the option anyway. He grunts a little, shakes his head. No. You just hum and pull back your covers. He hears the rustling and looks back at you, you’re waiting for him. Your brows jump again. “You could also sleep on the couch, if that’s your fancy of the night?”

He rolls his eyes and you smile. It makes him feel warm again but he doesn’t show it.

He moves more into your bed, laying at your side. You lean over and pull at the lamp, the dim light fades.

It’s quiet as you lay, and it doesn’t bother you. But Joel feels like he could yell or ram his fist into a wall.

He moves.

He moves closer to you. He shuffles down your bed a little, and his cold nose is suddenly against the back of your neck. Your hair tickles his skin but he doesn’t move it. An arm slides over you waist and gently pulls you back into him. You don’t move away, so he moves even closer. You smell so comforting, he wishes he could cut you open and climb into you. He’d live there and never be bothered again.

But this will work for now. Being in your bed, holding you so fucking close.

Your hand suddenly comes down, over his own around you. Your palm wraps around his wrist and squeezes gently. You don’t say anything, you don’t need to.

Yeah, Joel still has nightmares. He probably always will. And he’ll probably always have to call to you to calm down.

You don’t seem to mind.

[nightmarevore]

Michael blinks, watching his surroundings. Green hues look around in an attempt to take in the surrounding area before landing on the silhouette of someone sitting down in the distance. It looked like… a little boy? 

This is so vastly different from the previous place he’d just been in…. He recalls a fire, and falling, but not much else. 

This new location was far too unfamiliar to him, and the closest person Michael could see was the person in the distance. With a huff, he makes haste to approach whoever was ahead. As he got closer and closer, he could make out more of the boy, and he was correct in his assessment of him being young. 

Weirdly enough, he appeared to be sitting in front of some sort of old, covered up well on the ground. The boy had been staring down inside of it with his legs curled up to his chest. How long had he been sitting here? 

“Hey… Excuse me, where are we?” Michael spits out, completely disoriented. 

The boy nearly jumps at the sudden voice. Someone else was here? He turns his head to look at the newcomer. He looked like a teenager, at most. Someone older than him.  

“Oh, um… my neighborhood?” He replies. 

“Well, sure, but where? As in, what city? I think I’m lost.” Michael’s voice is cautious. The little boy’s eyes were a solid, bright green. He hadn’t seen eyes like that since… 

“Oh, um… London, I think is what Father says, we’re in London.” His voice is quiet. Nearly a whisper. 

London couldn’t be correct. How did Michael get from St. George, Utah, all the way to London, England? If that was the case, we was super lost. How did he get here again? 

There was fire. There was a robot. There was… 

“Hrrk—!” A sudden pain shoots through Mike’s head at the thought. Alright, try not to think about that. 

“Are you okay, Mister?” The kid’s turned fully towards the older man, tilting his head. “You went pale.” 

“Oh, I’m… fine, sorry, I think I have a bit of a headache.” Michael chuckles awkwardly. “Thank you for telling me where we are, do you mind telling me your name?” 

The boy hesitates. He thinks that he’s not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially ones that are older than him. All they do is bully him. But this man didn’t seem to have the intent to hurt him. Maybe he was okay?

“Will. William.” He answers in a flat tone, soon looking back down to the deep crevice in the earth. 

“Will, huh?” The name sent unease down Michael’s spine. The boy’s eyes had a sort of emptiness to them that seemed so uncharacteristic for someone of his age. “Why do you keep looking down there, Will?” 

“My bunny is down there.” Green, focused eyes remain locked onto the entrance. “They didn’t get him when they got me out.” 

Oh. 

Michael looks down, trying to look to the bottom. He couldn’t see it, the sky’s overcast made it too dark to see down inside the pit. William fell down there. 

“….. I’m hungry.” William suddenly says, mindlessly. He’s seemingly unphased by his words, but Michael spots the boy’s hand balling his shirt in his fist just over his stomach. “It hurts.” 

Michael bites his lip. It hurts? That sounds awfully familiar. The pang of hunger is all too familiar to him. 

“You can go home and eat, right?” The older boy feels like he already knows the answer.

William shakes his head, confirming Michael’s suspicions.

“Nothing helps.” He turns to look at the older boy, and as he speaks, Michael can see vaguely sharper teeth in his mouth. They stick out as he talks. Michael finally understands. 

He doesn’t know how or why, but he’s standing in front of his father as a child. The thought sickens him and makes him dizzy—How is this even possible? 

William Afton, the man who killed all those children, sat before him as a child himself. The monster. The man who ruined everything for all of Hurricane. He’s…. just a starving kid. Michael wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to throw himself down the well and hope that nobody cares to save him. Maybe bring William down with him. 

But he… can’t. He can’t do that. William, like this, doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Nothing helps.” William repeats to himself. “I’m hungry all the time. I don’t… Like being hungry. It hurts. I don’t know how to not be hungry.” 

This pulls Michael out of his own head. There’s desperation in his voice that Michael hasn’t heard before. Definitely not from the flat tone of his voice from before. It’s a familiar desperation. Michael knows all too well what it means to be hungry. Ravenous. Starving. 

Father always used his hunger as a source of control. He’s who made Michael terrified of the fact he’d a pred, after all. Father would hurt and play with his food. His prey. Cocky and confident. Always hungry and always demanding more. Nothing could satisfy father. Nothing did satisfy him. He would always want more. He was terrifying.

Nothing quite like the kid in front of him. 

Michael felt awful. Both in who his father is, and the fact he felt the need to help the boy before him. 

“You have sharp teeth?” Michael finally speaks. 

“Huh? Oh…. yeah. I don’t know why. They’re very sharp.” William’s gaze breaks from the well, finally shifting to the older boy. He shifts uncomfortably. “They call me a freak. A monster. I think I agree with them.” 

This takes Michael by surprise. He’s just a kid, why would he even be a monster? It’s true that he becomes one, but…. He’s so innocent right now. 

Right now, Michael reminds himself. He knows he’s a monster. He deserves to fall into that well. 

He’s just a kid! 

“Well, if it means anything, I think it’s unique. Look.” Michael begins, pushing his thoughts aside. He’s going to ignore the fact that his heart is racing in his chest. Taking a breath, Michael lifts his hand to lift up the corner of his lip, showing off one of his sharper canines. 

William’s face lights up. He finally stands, his attention fully on the stranger. 

“You have them, too? You’re a monster, too?!” Excitement riddles his voice. He’s full of so much child-like joy. 

See? He’s just a child. 

Michael pulls his hand out of his mouth, chuckling. He shakes his head.

 How pathetically ironic this is. Michael hates the fact he’s a predator. Yes, he’s a monster. Of course he is. He needs to eat people in order to function. How is that not freakish? 

This kid, William, isn’t a monster. He’s not a freak. He’s just a kid who doesn’t know who he is. Not yet. He’s just… scared. Scared like him.

God, Mike hates himself. He bites his lip and takes a breath.

“Like I said, unique. It makes you special. You’re not like the other kids. You’re cool, cooler than they’ll ever be.”  

William’s eyes stare at the older boy, intently watching with an innocence in his eyes that Michael’s never seen out of his father. 

“Special…? Really?” William repeats the words, wondering just how this can make him special. “I’m special. We’re special.” 

It’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself of the truth. The words are just beyond his reach, but he’s desperately trying to reach out to them. 

“Oh, um… Mister, you never told me your name.” William’s smile is heard through his voice. You wouldn’t need to see him in order to know how happy he is to be told something positive about himself. 

“Oh? It’s… Mike, William. Call me Mike.” 

“You’re special, Mike.” 

The older boy gently gasps with surprise.

[kaekae-x0x0]

Welcome Home - Phantom of the Opera AU

Part 2/?

Part 1 Here

Content warning.

Mentions of the dead, blood, and eyeballs.

You woke up a little past midnight. Looking out the window, all you could see was a dark blanket over the sky scattered with bright white stars.

You slowly opened your front door, careful to not make a loud ruckus that would wake the other neighbors. Your door closed with a quiet click and you started to walk down the path to the old house.

Approaching the old house, you stop and stare at it. Something about it seemed familiar.

You hesitated about grabbing the doorknob. Wasn’t this illegal?

Shaking off the bad thoughts, you take a deep breath and opened the door.

How in the world is this door unlocked?you thought to yourself.

You stepped inside and closed the door. A CRASH! could be heard from the other room. You jumped at the sudden noise and stared around wildly.

“Who’s there?” You whispered.

Candles lit all around the room, lighting a path downward.

“y/n…” an unfamiliar voice echoed.

The voice came from the end of the path, wherever the candles were leading, someone who knew you was waiting.

You tugged at the doorknob, trying to get it to open. You were unsuccessful.

Sighing, you reluctantly take the path to the Below, curious of what you would find.

Every few steps, you would hear the voice saying different things to you.

“don’t be scared…”

“follow my voice”

“your family has told you about me, why do you hesitate?”

You finally reached the final steps, and what met you at the end was a large organ with something (or someone) hunched over. Sheet music was scattered everywhere, candle wax was melted onto every wall.

Stepping into the large room, you weren’t exactly paying any mind to where you were stepping, and…

C-crack

The figure who was hunched over the organ quickly turned around, their formally steady breathing was staggered.

You took a deep breath and said, “I’m awfully sorry to intrude… but I…” you tried to think of an excuse to why you broke in, but you decided honesty was the best, “I wanted to find out what this old house held inside, I can leave if you want me to-“

“Nonsense!” The figure interrupted standing up quickly, rushing towards you to greet you. “Now, let me introduce myself to you, chérie/chéri.” They took your hand with one hand and took off their hood with the other, revealing a large, blue pompadour and a smiling yellow face with a white mask covering half of it. His eyes were droopy with eye bags underneath. “My name is Wally, Wally Darling.” He pecked your hand with his lips and bowed.

You were at a loss for words, but, he was a fairly attractive male, who was treating you like royalty, who wouldn’t be?

“Now dear angel, what is your name?”

“Umm… I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n…” he sang, as if savoring your name.

You weren’t sure of what to say, you had broken into his house, he treats you like a royal, and now you’re stuck in silence.

“Well, I will say, your voice is that of an angel, dear.” He said softly, breaking the silence.

“I’ve never heard that about my talking voice.” You admitted.

“I’m not just talking about your speaking, Y/n. I’m talking about your gift…”

“My singing isn’t a gift…”

“Oh don’t be foolish, it can mesmerize even the blackest of hearts.”

“Wait, how have you heard my singing?”

“Oh my angel… I hear everything.”

You swallowed, should you be scared?

“Oh, just forget what I said… say, is it morning already?” He said changing the subject.

You looked around for a clock, none could be found.

“You better run along darling. I’ll see you soon.”

You followed his advice and began to trudge up the stairway. As you walked on the carpet, the house seemed to wake up and spit you out of the back door, where no one could see you.

Looking around, you realize Wally was right… it was daylight.

You wondered how Howdy was doing. You decided you would spend the day helping him around the shop. What could happen?

[givemea-dam-break]

hii! i was wondering if you could do a zoya nazyalensky x fem!reader where reader and zoya are dating for like, 6 months, and reader is zoya's little soft spot

like, she's a really sweet small girl, adorable and cute, really kind with everyone, and zoya just loves this stuff about her, even though she probably would be annoyed if it were anyone else

anyway, they're in the little palace when readers ex returns from a really long mission, and this ex is a really toxic person that used to make reader feel like she's no good for anyone and manipulate her all the time

i really would like to see how zoya (who knows about their relationship) would act around it and i think she would be really protective

well, thanks anyway i hope you feel good about writing this <3

a/n: omg i love this idea so much! i could never think of a plot to write for zoya and this is exactly what i was looking for so i hope you enjoy <3 i'm so sorry this has taken so long to come out.

warnings: implications of toxic relationships, mentions of injury/death/etc gn reader

Right Here - Zoya Nazyalensky

The past few months have been nothing but bliss.

Well, as much as they can be with a war going on. Between the fighting and training and missions into the Fold, your life has become peaceful and you're more content than you ever have been. Days have felt easier. Smiling comes more naturally. Saints, you've begun to enjoy donning your kefta again.

The reason for that, for all the happiness, stirs beneath you now, making a soft humming sound in her throat as she wakes up from her doze.

"Afternoon, Zoya," you murmur, eyes still shut as your head rests on her chest which rises up and down so very soothingly. "Sweet dreams?"

Her body tenses for a moment as she stretches, and a yawn parts her lips. "I suppose if you count beheading some volcra as nice."

You breathe a laugh, opening your eyes and propping yourself up on an elbow to look at her.

Zoya's dark hair is mussed slightly, the strands threading between bright green blades of grass like rivers of ink. Though groggy, her blue eyes are bright and becoming more alert the longer they stay open, framed by thick lashes and smooth skin that seems to glow in the sunlight. She yawns again before shaking off her sleepy daze.

"You're an awfully comfortable pillow," you say with a smile. "Might hire you."

His lips tug in that almost-sly smile of hers, and her eyes glitter like sapphires. "Long as I get paid."

"And what would your payment be?"

She leans up, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before sprawling out on the grass again, hand on your cheek. It's warm and comforting, and your face presses gently into her palm.

"A few dozen kisses, perhaps."

With a grin, you kiss her once, twice, three times on the lips, before holding her face and peppering them over her cheeks and forehead and nose, drawing soft laughs out of her. When you stop, she's still laughing, and the sound makes you feel fulfilled, proud.

"Do you hear the birds, (name)?" she asks. Her eyes are fixed on the sky and trees above, flickering between branches. "They sing for you."

You settle down on your back beside her, taking her hand in yours and playing with her fingers. She doesn't stop you, relaxing her hand and humming softly.

"I do."

Your eyes shut for a moment, listening to the sweet warbling songs and trying to figure out their tune, their purpose. Perhaps they sing for love or friendship, nostalgia or happiness. The melodies resonate in your bones, echoing and drawing you in until all you can hear is the birds and the soft breathing of your girlfriend.

And pounding hooves.

All of a sudden, the sound becomes deafening, thundering through the ground beneath you. You and Zoya both sit, shocked and a little disorientated, looking for the source. For a moment, you're worried that something is wrong - there's no reason for so many horses sounding - but you relax a little when you see the source.

A little ways away in the courtyard of the Little Palace, a dozen riders in red, blue, and purple keftas appear, dismounting swiftly. Two break off and hurry inside, likely to report to the Darkling, while the rest stay behind to untack the horses.

It's when you see his face, so distant, that it feels like things go wrong.

Whenever you see him, it's like your mind spirals, dragging you down a whirlpool and holding your head beneath the fluid memories that still haunt you. The shouting, the cruel words, the manipulation. You hadn't been able to see it back then, but it's all you see now whenever he appears.

"Deva's back," Zoya all but snarls. "That's unfortunate. I'd been hoping a Fjerdan would've killed him."

With a comment like that, you usually would've laughed, but it's as if you're stuck in time now, replaying everything the man - the boy - you once thought you'd loved has ever said to you.

Zoya's hand closes around yours, squeezing gently so as to remind you that she's there.

It had been her that had gotten you out of the relationship and brought you to reason. After years of friendship, she could read you as easily as a book and knew immediately that things weren't right. The little walks you'd take were being skipped. You weren't consistently going to dinner. You were beginning to look like a shell of yourself, much like how a Grisha suppressing their powers does. Sickly. Sad. Withdrawn.

She reached her peak when you told her you couldn't be friends anymore. As if reading your mind, she had known that it wasn't your wish. Saints, it was the complete opposite, but it was what Deva had told - no, ordered - you to do. He had given you ultimatums more times than you could count, making you choose between him and other things, becoming angry when you tried to refuse. Part of you complied out of the love you thought you had for him. Part of you did it out of fear. A Heartrender was not a good kind of Grisha to enrage, and you were terrified.

You'll never forget the way she had told you, so tenderly, to stay in her room and wait while she went to go speak with Deva. Further, you'll never forget her saying, He'll never bother you again, an hour later, and the fact that she was right. That day onwards, he never spoke to you. He barely even threw a glance your way if Zoya was with you.

A Heartrender may be scary, but Zoya Nazyalensky could be worse, and she wasn't hesitant about it. In fact, most of the time, she's standoffish and rude to everyone but you.

You're my soft spot, she had once told you, and you still believe her now. Her hand holds yours so gently while her eyes blaze with firey anger as she glares across the grass and courtyard at the boy who had hurt you so. Her jaw is set, and you're sure you can hear her teeth grind against each other, but when she glances at you, her expression softens into a reassuring smile.

"You okay?" she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, but you're not entirely sure. It happens every time you see him, the memories, and although they're easier to cope with, they're still hard to relive.

The Saints had granted you a few months of reprieve. Deva, along with eleven other Grisha, had been sent on a mission by the Darkling in Fjerda, disposing of drüskelle and other Fjerdan soldiers on the border while finding out as much information about their battle plans as they could. Methods apparently had never been disclosed, and you dread to think of what those men and women possibly did. The blood that stains their hands.

Being a Healer, you're never really sent anywhere other than to heal people, so you can confidently say your hands are fairly clean. Zoya, well, she's killed, but she's never tortured. Not like this group. Not like Deva. These are the Darkling's lackeys, the worst of the worst. You're eternally glad that Zoya broke off her support for it all when it started intensifying past finding out information.

You feel Deva looking at him now, thinking of the things he might have done and the people he has killed. Yes, Ravka and Fjerda are at war with each other, but you couldn't ever justify mutilating somebody for a cause.

"Hey." Zoya's voice grabs your attention. "Look at me."

After a moment, you tear your gaze from the riders and back to her, taking a deep breath as she grasps your other hand slightly.

"Listen to the birds," she says. "Listen to them sing, and look at me. Forget everything else."

And you do. You fall into the comfort of those beautiful, startlingly blue eyes. She sways gently as the birds twitter away, humming her own little song, and smiling at you with so much love that it confuses you. How could anyone ever love you so much? What have you done to deserve it?

Love is not a thing that needs to be deserved, she would tell you if you asked. It is not earned, it is given. It is handed over with trust and adoration and only wishes for love in return.

Her lips brush your forehead, kissing it softly as she says, "You're okay. I'm right here."

Right here, you repeat.

"I always will be."

[unlistedly]

YAN! KNY X MODERN?READER.

(1)

• FIRST POST! >_<

"You" in this story, will be portrayed as a minor, meaning there will be NO ROMANCE. strictly platonic! >< sorry!

they/them you!

also take note this won't be exactly same as canon! they might be ooc >< i dont watch the anime.. sorry! I just like writing. Also please excuse my bad english. Thanmk you..!

You were walking through a forest, yet the way out seems to lead somewhere.. way too different!

You were walking through a forest with your earphones in, listening to whatever.

You liked walking by yourself after school, being in crowds at school really took away your energy.

There's nothing better than walking through the forest, listening to music, hearing the birds chirp. Well, aside from binge watching shows and anime.

You knew your way around the forest, it was near your house.

Walking through, you saw the usual .. trees.

Yet, you didn't expect THIS. A whole villiage!

It looked like they were from some other dimension, seriously looked oudated though.

Hey this layout looked super similar to that one villiage in KNY.

Ehhh... anyway!

You were kinda spooked at first, considering this whole villiage just popped up, but you just swished it off as just a place they haven't explored.

You were wearing your school uniform as you walked through. You were getting alot of stares, they should be looking at themselves! What a fashion taste THEY have.

Well, walking through, you started to feel out of place. Maybe it's time to walk back home..

You checked their time, 5:32, perfect! 30 minutes for the walk back and you'd be home and cozy.

Walking back, the sky was getting darker.. and darker. It was really dark.

The forest felt creepier than usual... was that tree always there? No it wasn't. Where are you?

Nothing felt familiar, but you could've swore this was where you came from. It's getting dark.

Getting worried, You try to phone your parents, didn't work. What'd you expect in a forest?

"Hello.. is anyone there..?" You called out, okay, this was super scary.

You continued to walk through the forest, the original path you were following is behind you now.

Oh, now you know.

You're lost. In a dark forest. Great.

You sigh angrily before feeling a landscape change, a mountain? Oh, why is it snowing all of a sudden? Whatever, you go up the mountain very.. very slowly.

From time to time you rest on the trees, gasping for air.

The pandemic really screwed you..

You continued your "hike" as you finally reached the top, it was already night by then.

You checked your phone, "What..? 7:31? Jeez. "

You sigh and finally reach the top of the "mountain."

Oh! A hut! A hut that seems super familiar with the Kamado House!

"Eugh.... What is this place?" You were starting to get creeped out. But nonetheless, useless thoughts.

You walked to the house and knocked on the door, tired and lowkey hungry.

The door opened with a slide as a sleepy-looking black haired girl, with a pink..-ish kimono opened.

She's cute.

" Oh my, it's awfully late.. why are you outside? "

The person spoke to you in a gentle manner, as if you were a puppy. But you.. didn't understand them.

"Uhh.. english?" You said with an awkward smile.

The girl tilted her head and tried to repeat your words.

"Inglis-zh?" She tilted her head around, with a dumb look on her face. • _ •

You stared at her and tried to use hands to signify something, you were lost and needed directions! A Uber would be nice.

Yea you looked dumb.

"Uh..yea. Do you know how to get to Maylbhur street from here? " You asked, tilting your head, pointing at the direction of your house and making a house-hand-shape. " Home! Me! Maylbhur ! "

The girl stared at you before smiling.

" You're very pretty missis, it seems you are lost, please come inside. " She said and signed you to go in.

You stared at her for awhile before slowly walking in, " yea uh.. thanks(?)", you should learn stranger danger.. seriously.

Well, it's better murdered then frozen.

Anyway, you entered.

Unaware of her observing stare, and his hungry gaze.

♡

Hi!! i hope i did well. >< Pleass tell me any mistakes I made! Thank you! *´ㅅ`)ﾞ♥ tyvm!!

[how-very-salty]

syndrome

tw: gore tw: corpse description tw: mental diseases (don't worry, there's happy end)

Jason JD Dean x Veronica Sawyer

summary: JD and Veronica meet at night at 7Eleven, in a ruined city under a red, fading sun.

J.D. pulled up his hood and pushed the door open, gritting his teeth. If he'd had a choice, he wouldn't have gone out for a few more days, but his food supplies were running low.  

The world greeted him with its usual bleak landscape: the huge red disk of the waning sun hovered over the ruined city, tinting everything around him in various shades of decay. The city was in flames, and clouds of dark smoke billowed into the sky. The air smelled of gasoline and death. He turned into a familiar alley and immediately recoiled in disgust: a rat ran nimbly beneath his feet, a human finger in its mouth. The rotting corpse lying against the wall of the house raised its head and waved a fingerless hand in greeting. J.D. nodded sullenly and walked quickly past him before he could talk about the old days again. 

It was deadly boring to listen to and for the first time. 

Before entering the shop, he took a medical mask from his pocket and pulled it over his face. He didn't want to frighten the occasional passerby with a half-worm eaten cheek; after all, sometimes there were living people in the neighborhood. Recently deceased, he corrected himself and stepped through the open doors. 

"Jay, same as usual? Couple glasses of slushie and a frozen pizza?" Teddy, putting the magazine aside, gave him a mocking nod from behind the counter. "I wouldn't be surprised if, with your love of ice, you'd chew on it without even warming it up."

"Ha ha," J.D. muttered back, expressionless, and walked past him to the back of the store without stopping. Too much social contact for such a short period of time.... 

"Okay, I get it, you're not in the mood today," he grinned understandingly and returned to his reading. "Just don't scare off the rest of the customers with your sour face."

With a silent middle finger, J.D. walked around the chip stand and froze like a dead man. The girl standing at the slushie machine turned and stared at him with hypnotic brown eyes. The cup in her hands slowly filled with bright blue ice, the same color as her dress. In the midst of the putrid red, this burst of color was like a breath of fresh air.

J.D. swallowed frantically. She was alive! Not recently dead, but really, truly, no joke, alive! 

He stepped back, careful not to make any sudden movements so as not to startle her.

"I didn't think anyone else would drink slushie at two in the morning," the girl smiled suddenly, tilting her head to her shoulder. Did she say that to him? He looked around, but there was no one else in the shop. "Just a minute, I'm almost done. Literally just a minute more, the machine here is awfully slow..."

J.D. swallowed and stopped obediently. 

"Hey," he replied offhandedly, pulling his hood deeper as he fell silent again. He didn't want her to run away when she saw his worm-ravaged face.  

"Hey to you too, midnighter," she chuckled softly, "will you keep me company? I'm terribly bored. Well, unless you're in a hurry to get somewhere, of course," she looked at him expectantly, and when he didn't answer, she looked away in embarrassment. "Uh... sorry to bother you. I just moved in, and..."

"Here? To this neighborhood?" not holding back, J.D. interrupted her in surprise. 

"What, it's not a good choice?" she stuck a straw in her glass and stepped away from the machine to sit on the windowsill, her feet dangling in the air. "Low rent here, walkable to work, and overall it seems like a good place to live."

"Yeah... Good joke," he sarcastically grinned, walked over to the machine and then suddenly hesitated: cherry or strawberry?

"Take a blue raspberry, we'll have blue tongues together," the girl giggled behind his back. He seemed to say it out loud. "Do you always take food advice from strangers?" 

"No, only the cute ones," J.D. replied thoughtlessly, and bit his tongue sharply. She was going to run away from him in disgust, and she'd be right... He pressed the lever sullenly and filled the glass with blue ice. 

"Wow, did we get to the compliments part yet?" a playful giggle sounded from behind him, and he turned around in confusion and stared at her. Why was she talking to him so calmly? Didn't she notice anything? 

Once again, without any response from him, the girl blushed in confusion:

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, aren't I? My mom always told me I was as crushable as a tabby cat...oops!" blushing even more, she grabbed the glass and took a big gulp of slushie. And then, writhing in pain, she pressed her hand to her forehead. 

"Brain freeze, huh?" smiled J.D. awkwardly, crushing his glass in his hands. "I do that a lot. Helps me stop thinking about...stuff."

"Well, it doesn't work for me. I still think about how stupid I'm acting," the girl muttered, rubbing her forehead. The corners of her lips turned down in frustration; he liked her smile better.  

"I think you're pretty damn nice," he objected hotly, taking a seat on the windowsill as far away from her as possible. "I'm J.D., by the way, and you are?"

"Veronica. Veronica Sawyer," she smiled softly, and held out her hand to him. He froze hesitantly, staring at her hand: pale, with skin that was soft even to the sight of it, and her knuckles delicately pink with embarrassment. Was he really allowed to touch them? 

He didn't answer again for too long, and Veronica's hand dropped, trembling. 

"Am I doing something wrong?" she asked in a stifled voice, and J.D. shook his head quickly. 

"No, you're not. It's just... aren't you disgusted?"

"What? Why should I be?" her eyes went wide. He silently rolled up his sleeves and showed her his hands: rotting, with yellowish bones sticking out and skin covered in livid corpse stains. 

"Uh... I still don't understand," Veronica bit her lip, shifting her lost gaze from his hands to him. "What am I supposed to be seeing here?"

"I'm just a corpse, Veronica," he said heavily, and after a moment's hesitation, he pulled the mask from his face, revealing a gaping hole where his cheek had been. "I don't know where you're from, or how many people like you there are left in the world..."

"Like me?" her voice quivered with fear, or perhaps disgust. He should probably go.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean," J.D. sighed, reluctantly rising from the windowsill. "Just get out of here. There's nobody to save in this town anymore... People like you, alive, don't belong here."

He turned and crouched down, heading for the exit.

"Wait!" Veronica flew out of her seat after him, grabbing his arm impulsively. "J.D., wait a minute...you're alive, too! You're not dead!"

"Are you kidding me?" he turned around; his eyebrows knitted together frowningly on the bridge of his nose. 

"No! You're not dead," she looked pleadingly into his eyes, gripping his arm tightly, "and nobody's dead! I... I know how you feel. I can help you!"

"How?" J.D. looked at her sullenly. "And more importantly, why would you do that?"

"Because I can help! Isn't that enough?" she swallowed and stepped closer, almost touching him. "Just let me..."

"I think you're out of your mind," he shook his head in disbelief and stepped back. But the heart in his chest suddenly clenched in a ridiculous, deceptive hope. What if...?

"I'm definitely out of my mind, since I'm asking you to trust me when we've only known each other for about ten minutes," Veronica laughed nervously and stopped abruptly, staring at him with her piercing brown eyes. "Are you crazy enough to believe me?"

It seemed so; or he just couldn't resist that pleading look. Who could?

"What do I have to do?" he sighed doomedly. 

***

J.D. pushed open the door and stepped out onto the porch, squinting in the bright sunlight. The world outside the hospital greeted him with the rustle of yellowing leaves and the smell of recent rain. The drops still glistened brightly on the iron railing, the steps, and the row of benches that lined the alley. A girl in a bright blue dress standing on the steps looked up and stared at him with her brown eyes wide open. A moment later, her lips curved into a warm smile. 

"Hey, how about we run in for a couple glasses of slushie to celebrate your recovery?"

"Hey," he smiled back broadly, heading down the stairs toward her. "Would that count as a first date?"

She laughed softly and tilted her head back. The dark brown cloud of hair flashed gold in the September sunlight. 

"No way!" Veronica shook her head, laughing, and stared at him with a playful squint. "I'd vote for at least a Wendy's on a first date, and that's only because I'm crazy about their French fries." 

"Wow, what a coincidence... I miss their burgers," J.D. grinned, making her laugh again, and held out his hand. "So, will you come with me? Just for the fries."

"Anywhere for fries! And by the way, you're buying," she grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the path covered in puddles with bright gasoline stains. A fallen maple leaf crunched beneath his foot. He lifted his head and looked up at the deep blue sky, where clouds floated lazily. September smelled of rain and fresh pastries from the neighborhood coffee shop. Veronica looked over her shoulder and smiled as she squeezed his hand. 

--------

if you wanna give kudos here it is <3<3<3

[unicyclehippo]

Museum au!!!!!! Thank you for writing, I love it very much! :) happy holidays!

i love museum au i have been trying very hard to write it but life & time & my perfectionism have conspired against me. regardless here is a short snippet from what may be chapter one pls enjoy

//

The Letter arrived on a Thursday evening.

Not by itself, mind you.

It had help in the form of one Claudia Hup, Emon Postal Officer, Third Class, who delivered it to the manor herself. It was the first time she’d had to head out there in the three weeks since trading her rural truck route for a cushy city job; most of her deliveries were contained to Greyhunt and the Shoreline, the northernmost suburbs of Emon, but the manor was a peculiar exception. It stood a mile or so outside city limits—close enough that the job fell to her to cycle all the way out there to deliver the weeks’ post but far enough, imposing enough, that doing so felt like entering a world all its own.

Older.

Menacing.

Save it for last or it’ll ruin your day. Don’t mess around. Drop the post and scram, said the shivering postie who’d traded for her old truck route.

I don’t go out there. Just send ‘em a message saying it got left at the collection, said the postie who ran her route on her off-days.

Oh yeah, it’s extremely cursed, said her trainer, with a bracing clap on her shoulder. Good luck.

The comments were easy to shrug off as tomfoolery, maybe light hazing, from her coworkers until her GuideDot glitched and she had to ask a Shoreline baker for directions. The pitying look that garnered, like he wasn’t convinced she’d make it back, made the whole thing rather less funny.

It was a perfectly lovely afternoon. Claudia whistled as she cycled. The sun would set soon so she didn’t linger beyond a photo or two for her son. Rusted sunlight poured over the Ozmit to her left and the vast wheatfields to her right. The wind was brisk, whipping up the cliffs from the churning sea. Ahead of her rose a tall, grey hill. By the time she made it to the top, she was no longer whistling. The hill was steep, after all, and she wasn’t yet accustomed to the effort of cycling after several years spent driving her truck around the countryside. It had nothing at all to do with the sudden quiet of this place, the wind abruptly falling still as she made it to the manor. The way the sky seemed awfully low, dark clouds hooked on the spires of the roof and the grasping branches of the trees that stood guard at the fenceline. Claudia shivered. Mopped the clammy sweat of her forehead with a sleeve and dismounted her bicycle. She kicked the stand down and crept forward to the iron-wrought fence and the mailbox bolted to it. It opened with a shriek of rusted metal.

From the well of shadows that was the front door to the manor appeared an enormous hound as if summoned.

Red fingers of light reached through the gaps of the fence and brushed over deep black fur. It shone bloody across a long, pointed snout full of glistening teeth and it lingered, caught, in a pair of amber eyes that glowed in those deep shadows like specks of fire.

Claudia Hup - Emon Postal Officer, Third Class - had met dogs before. She had one of her own—a small yappy thing she didn’t like all that much but her son adored. She also knew that dogs were the natural enemy of postal workers worldwide and that this dog, loping down the steps of the creepy manor toward her, did not want her here. As it drew closer, Claudia could only stare in horror. It was a wretched looking thing—tall and lanky, its fur mottled, patchy, and a mess of white and pink scars across one side of its face that drew up the lips, exposing the teeth on that side. Each one had to be as long as her finger. She gulped.

But she had a job to do, and Claudia Hup was very good at her job. She would be made Postal Officer Second Class within two years, something of a meteoric rise in the industry, and in ten she would be Head of the Emon Division. Consider this her first gauntlet.

From the pocket of her uniform, she pulled a small box. It popped open. The dog’s ears shot up. Its nose followed after a moment, snuffling in her direction.

‘Good dog,’ Claudia murmured, eyeing the mailbox. It was uncomfortably close to the enormous dog and suddenly the imposing iron-wrought fence didn’t seem that sturdy. ‘Want a treat?’

Most dogs knew the word treat. Staring into this ones amber eyes, Claudia knew that it knew the word treat…and that it wasn’t impressed. Still, it was worth a try. She tossed the treats past its head. One ear twitched but its attention remained fixed.

Claudia stared back.

‘Right,’ she said after a long minute of losing a staring contest with a dog. ‘Here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to take a step forward.’ The dog growled. Claudia gave it a powerful glare, one she’d pieced together after fifteen years of raising her son. ‘Stop that.’ It stopped. ‘I’m going to take a step forward. I’m going to put these,’ she lifted her handful of mail, ‘in that mailbox. You aren’t going to growl or try to bite me. Got that?’

The dog blinked.

‘Gonna take that as a yes. Great. Good. Talking to a dog. Wonderful.’

Claudia Hup sucked in a deep breath. She stepped forward—well, it was more of a nervous inching forward. But she made it to the gate and the mailbox and with another deep breath—eyes still locked on the dog—she lifted the top and dropped the mail inside.

The moment the papers dropped, the dog began to growl a growl that started in its belly and made its way up to the tip of its creased, snarling snout. Its hackles lifted like black spines.

Claudia’s courage, already strained, packed up and left and she was quick behind it, hurrying to her bicycle and pedalling away, down the tall grey hill and back up the long path to the city ahead of her, as fast as she was able.

The hound watched until she was out of sight. As soon as she was gone, it turned its suspicions on the mailbox. He investigated with a wet nose, sniffing all of the mailbox he could. Smelling nothing, he growled. Low at first, then one loud bark. The moment he did, he leapt back into a crouch, ears pinned flat to his head…but the mailbox merely sat, ever so slowly rusting in the sea-air. The contents of the mailbox—a thick glossy PLEXUS catalogue, the kind they sent out only twice a year; a stack of coupons for the landfill; two fridge magnets from local businesses; a handful of bills; and a postcard, slightly weathered, featuring a golden sun; and The Letter—did not respond to his challenge either, neither growling back nor biting. Harmless, then.

Satisfied, duty done, the hound—Mortadella, according to the bone-shaped tag on his purple collar—sneezed, proud with his victory. Then, he turned and walked back to the steps of the manor, pausing to snuffle at a few patches of moss and bite playfully at the grass that peeked up through the brickwork path. He made his way back to his bed laid out on the porch and turned in a circle once, twice, before settling back down to sleep.

The Letter sat in the mailbox for several more hours.

[shadowcrowncd]

[ nightmare ] sender wakes receiver up from a nightmare -- Jofia.

September 25th 2019 - Delacroix Castle

She doesn't remember the exact time she'd gone to bed or what had happened minutes before that. The days had gotten longer now, with each new threat arriving, more and more of Sofia's thoughts remained preoccupied with training, controlling herself and working. But tonight everything came to an abrupt halt. A deep sleep, she'd missing out on one for the past years. An eternity, perhaps. Despite being a deep sleeper, Sofia didn't sleep a lot. In fact, she sometimes caught herself avoiding sleep for the sake of what is. As if dreaming could be a weakness. If only she knew the truth.

Sinking into her pillow, Sofia could feel a strange sensation wash over her. Relief, then nothing but darkness. Suddenly, the world she's in feels awfully familiar. There's a lid up spiral staircase just before her, open and inviting. Moving down, there's complete silence, but strangely enough the unknown doesn't scare her as much as it would in the real world. Was this still a dream or a reality? She was overtly alert, capable of moving freely, thinking freely. So she began to rush downstairs, feeling as though a part of her had already accepted the unknown. But was it really... unfamiliar? Arriving at the last step and letting her feet touch the dark ground, a new world appears. Darkness vanishes to reveal a beautiful landscape, with numerous moons of all sizes, ranging from red to blue. Stars accompanied them, shining brightly. They illuminated the sky brightly enough to make it look like it was day. Blue and calm, there's music playing in the back, festive, inviting. She can smell popcorn and fresh-baked cookies, the faint sound of laughter accompanying the music. There's an intense pull to actually explore the scenery in front of her and yet, she hesitated for just a moment. She can't recall being invited or in any shape or form... wanted. This peaceful world wasn't for her to disturb. Then, from the hills, she could see a bunch of people calling her name, cheering almost. Running fast, they were practically floating towards her. "You're back. We've been waiting for an eternity." They all seemed so familiar, and yet ... overwhelmed by the sudden hugs, Sofia got tackled down onto the surprisingly soft ground. "Where am I? This feels too good to be true," thunder roared in the back, suddenly forcing her to snap out of her bliss. Dark clouds formed and the heat of the thunder made it appear almost red, then white. The heat of the pure sun. The quicker it approached, the more Sofia feared for those around her. Pushing herself away, she got up and ran towards the forming clouds in hopes of stopping herself. This time. ...this time?

"Turn around," the voice echoes through the entire landscape like a warning, shaking her to the core, "there's nothing you can do anymore. Nothing. They're already dead." Turning around, the friendly faces turned into smoke, ash. Lightning clashed against her skin, but left no marks whatsoever. She was the source. Outstretching her hand, Sofia managed to guide the thunder in another direction, but to no avail. The stench of burned flesh still filled her nostrils, as did the intense feeling of loss and sorrow. With the music becoming inaudible as thunder roared so much louder over her head, Sofia became agitated, furious. So did the storm above. "I need you to leave," cracks formed alongside the moons, ripping them apart. A cloaked, dark figure appeared next to Sofia. Grabbing her hand, he was almost gently guiding her away. "Leave," his voice echoed again, now with much more intensity, as if he had to force those words out of himself. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't bear the thought of losing you, I love you--" Sofia croaked, her voice sore. But.. why? She didn't know him, or did she? Looking down, towards their interlaced fingers, Sofia only now realized she's covered in blood -- and as the dark figure pushed her away, so did her whole body.

"You already have."

The bloody pit consumed her, made her choke on blood until she drowned. She could see Jean-Pierre at the end of it all, as darkness yet again welcomed her and the blood dripped above her head. "I've been waiting." He stretched out his hand, blood-soaked, golden, regal.

"--ake up, Sofia."

Suddenly awake, Sofia immediate sat herself up. Breathing heavily, her eyes firstly noticed fingers just inches above her arm, almost as if to guide her if things would go south. Joel. Their eyes met and relief washed over her. "A nightmare," Sofia tilted her head towards the side to see the feet of her two guards just outside. They were fast asleep. "I heard you screaming. Outside," Joel immediately stood up straight, removing himself. Her scream woke him up, making him rush through the castle, abandon his post, just to check up on her. "Just a bad dream, that's all." Joel visibly tensed. "A bad dream. You entered mine." he whispered, knowing exactly what she'd dreamed upon arrival. "You're still dreaming," getting close again, Joel placed two fingers underneath her chin and kissed her. Gently, then intensely, struggling with himself. Falling back into a deep sleep, Sofia's head hit the pillow, finally still, finally at peace. The faintest touch against her cheek, a last goodbye, before Joel removed himself once more. To steal a kiss, to remember, was his burden, not hers. Never hers.

[sunny6677]

Friendship is Spooky! - A MLP X Spooky Month Crossover (Season 1).

(A rewrite of the one i did last time lmao).

Summary:

A few days after deciding to permanently stay in Equestria and continue her studies there, Twilight ends up interrupted during one of her studies by a sudden portal opening in the main area of her treehouse.

On the other hand, in another universe, the residents of a local town called Sedonah are minding their own business, when a bunch of weird portals begin to appear everywhere. And something about the portals.. weirdly draws them in.

PROLOGUE PART 1: Portal Troubles.

————

Birds fluttered from outside, chirping and flying around above in the clear blue vibrant sky. From on high, the vibrant radiant sun glimmered down on the fields of pastel green. Dazzling, warm winds blew. Yet they came to a sharp rush as a shape of a horse flew from on high—wait, flew?

The shadow flew over the fields of green. In fact, it flew over a few more little cottages that were being walked passed by several pastel and colorful shapes. Creatures, in fact. They appeared to be horses, or ponies for that matter—but the way they looked wasn't anything like an actual pony at all.

Some of them looked like regular horses somewhat, only with colorings on their fur that weren't normal. Like green, blue, or red. On the hind parts of their legs though—there appeared to be weird symbols. One had a music note as it's symbol. Another even had a violin as it's symbol. The symbols werent particularly only unique to these types of ponies though. In fact—most of the ponies around the area seemed to have one. Besides a few smaller ones, anyway.

What appeared to be coming from the shadow that was cast on the town was a bright blue pony with streaks of rainbow in its hair—a symbol of thunder on its hind legs with a streak of rainbow thunder sprouting out from the cloud. It's tail dashed in the winds. And it appeared to be floating within the sky. No. Speeding. For it appeared to have some kind of wings sprouted from the small of its back.

The pony had some kind of mischevious smile on its face, dashing through the air at a rather rapid pace. And quickly it flew upward, vanishing behind a few pairs of white fluffy clouds and past a gigantic tree house in the center of the village crowded with all sorts of ponies. The wood was awfully long, leading all the way up to a green sprouting of fluffy leaves. Different panes of windows were on all parts of the tree.

Yet from the center of the tree though—there was a small wooden balcony with a glass door. Visible through the glass door was something faint. But pastel purple. It moved around. While something smaller with a similar purple coloring (along with spikes of green sprouted from its back) followed the creature around.

The purple shape walked further in the glass doors view. It wasn't just any shape. In fact, it was a pony—just like the ones from outside. It was average-sized with bangs of dark purple for its mane, streaks of pink and light purple lined from the right part of its upper mane. It's had a small snout, with dark purple glittering eyes resembling the twilight of the night sky. On its hind legs was.. a bright pink star with other smaller, white specks of stars on all sides of it. It's tail appeared to be about the same as its mane—with streaks of pink and lighter purple still present. But that wasn't really important.

And as if it was an ordinary thing, this peculiar pastel purple pony began to talk. It's voice sounded feminine, yet somewhat snarky as it groaned. "Ughh—where is it? Where is it?" It's voice repeated in a panic.

Quickly, it turned, and then trotted off to some random corner of the tree house. The smaller purple thing that was following it wasn't a pony like the many others outside. In fact, it was some kind of oddly small dragon. With purple scales, green emerald eyes, and green spikes sticking out from its hear to its long tail.

The dragon (presumably Spike) tilted is head, arching a brow in minor worry at the other creatures odd anxiety. "I don't know, Twilight. I haven't seen it since you went out to grab that new spell-book."

"Well, try looking for it!" The pony, 'Twilight', practically yelled out as it trotted anxiously. "I need it for the spell! If I don't find it, I won't be able to continue my studies!"

"..relax, Twilight. It's just a spell." Spike tried saying softly. Though it then blinked slowly, noticing something in the corner of its eye. It was a bottle. With bright cyan-blue liquid inside.

"Just a spell? It's not just a spell! It's—" Twilight stopped, its eyes flickering over where the bottle was on the shelf. "Aha!"

It didn't run toward the bottle though. In fact, an odd hot-pink aura began to slowly form around the bottle, lifting it up into the air. The aura hadn't just formed around the bottle though. In fact, it had formed around something that was sprouted from the top of her head. A long, pastel purple horn.

The bottle slowly flew across the air as they both watched, and placed itself on the brown desk before the pony.

Twilight then trotted over to the desk. The bottle didn't appear to be the only thing on the small table. There was a dark brown book with leather as its cover. The title, printed in black, simply read: 'Portal Spells'. There even appeared to be other small bottles of strange liquids beside it.

Twilight formed a pink aura around the book with it.. well, her horn presumably, and it slowly began to flip open as she looked upon the pages with a furrow of her brows.

"You sure you wanna do this, Twi?" Spike asked anxiously, "I mean—what if you accidentally summon the wrong portal?"

"Don't worry, Spike." Twilight assured. "I know what I'm doing. All the princess asked me to do was to just summon a portal, and use the spell she taught me recently to bring in some random object from the portal. Once I get the spell done, I'll just throw it back in."

"Well, what's the point of the spell if you're just gonna throw it back in?"

"It's a test, Spike." She rather flatly replied. "She just wants to know if I'm able to pass it. I've done all her other tests before. I'm sure this one will be just fine."

Spike took a step back. Twilight bowed her head. With a sigh, she began to speak softly. A pink aura summoned itself now a little more intensely around her horn as words escaped her mouth. The aura sparked around the book.

"Open the gaps of the universe, and let there be an opening into this world." She whispered. The spark around the book began to intensify, now flickering. "Let the stars align, let the stars shine, and seep its realities into my own. For as this portal may open, I shall enter, and do my duties as I must do them. Open the ga—"

There was a wave of a loud, suddenly electrical burst of noise—echoing through the treehouse. Twilight yelped from surprise, backing away from the small table in front of her. Spike did the same—screeching slightly and diving to the nearest corner.

There was a sudden.. bright light. A bright light that's source was opening from in the center of the room. It looked like a small cyan gap at first. But within a few seconds, the gap slowly opened, forming a circle. There were white flickers of specks inside. Forming, buzzing around—almost like flies as it glowed.

Twilight and Spike stared, their mouths agape. She hadn't even finished the spell from what it seemed. She didn't even get to finish speaking. Had something else come in? Had the spell somehow gone wrong?

Twilight let herself slowly begin to walk over to the portal of light. It looked strange, but beautiful. She could practically feel herself getting lost in the specks of the stars that flickered back at her. As she walked, and walked closer to it. Her mouth was still agape. Her brows raised.

She.. almost felt like she was about to walk completely into it. That was at least until she felt a sharp pain against her body, and found herself flying onto her back as she yelped. Something firm but fuzzy had landed on her. It was large. Or.. average sized. And she could hear it grunt in the brief moment she had her eyes shut.

Twilight heard something else land on the wooden floor nearby with a loud thud. Twilight tried to squint her eyes open. Yet the moment she did, she saw something. Two pairs of shut eyes. There was face. A white snout. Some other pony was now on top of her.

It was a mare, it seemed. Laying on top of her with her head raised, low grunts escaping her mouth. Her mane was a lilac purple, with baby bangs sprouted from the roof of her head. Much like Twilights own main. The only difference was that the mare had a slight split in the right side of her bangs. With some kind of backwards triangle floating above her head. Almost like a cowlick of some weird kind. Her coat was a pure white. Much lime Twilights own horn, there was a horn sprouted from the top of her head.

The mare slowly opened her eyes—which appeared to be purple. Her eyes slowly began to widen after a few seconds.

"..uhh.. hello..?" Twilight said, being unsure of what to say.

Without much warning, the mare suddenly let out a scream, falling onto her back and off of Twilights form.

[sako-mii]

I wanna apologize in advance. Even I don't know what this is, and I wrote it.

Warning: idk angst maybe?

The clouds covered up the night sky as snow was falling making everything look enchanting. The streets were almost empty, not a single person in sight. Most people were most probably inside their houses, warm and cozy, enjoying the winter with their family. Well, almost everyone.

Bri walked through the empty streets, the snow crunching underneath her in every step she took. Even if she was tightly wrapped and safe from the cold, she still could feel the cold air hitting her face.

She walked near a park, the street light making it less dark for her. How many times did she walk around the park now? She sat on a nearby bench and looked down at her now red and freezing hands.

She rubbed them together, hoping to produce some warmth. Did something come up for him that he couldn't come? If so then why didn't he say anything to me?

She took out her phone, wishing for a notification. Nothing. She looked at her blank screen for a while, before she sighed to herself and stood up.

I guess I won't see him either Bri thought, feeling sad by the thought. She started walking back to her home, just wanting to go into bed and start a new day.

The walk back home felt awfully long. Everything was so quiet, as if someone put them under a spell. Not even a single sound, everyone was asleep, with their family or significant other. Everyone except her.

She looked over the streets and hoped to see some footprints. Maybe so she can assure herself that maybe he was already there, but they might have passed each other. But the snow had nothing but her footprints, making her realize that she was all alone.

How much she had wished to spend some time with her lover. But having a boyfriend with a face known to the public, she knew it would be hard. Even if his friends and bandmates (is that a word?) would cover for him and help him out, sometimes it just seems impossible. She loved him wholeheartedly and supported his career, but sometimes she wished his contract would end so they don't have any need of being so secretive.

But then again, she didn't feel like she was in a position to complain. She always supported him, always felt proud of his progress and concerts, yet sometimes she wished the public wouldn't make a deal out of their relationship if they revealed it. Deep down she also wanted to tell everyone and just get it off her shoulders , but she knew she couldn't do something like that. It would only put them in trouble, getting them both, and the group, in danger. She knew she had to be reasonable.

She stopped in her tracks and looked up, ashamed of her thoughts. Her breath hitched as she took a deep breath, trying to calm her thoughts. She just told herself that it's okay and that there's always a next time, but maybe deep down she didn't want to be always on the waiting end. She may be calm and reserved, yet that doesn't mean that she wanted to be understanding of situations all the time. No, sometimes she just wanted things for herself.

"Hey Jungkook," she muttered, causing the male to look at her. "You always say that you're busy, yet you always make some time for me, sneaking out at every opportunity. What if you grow tired from it?" Her question was rather sudden, taken the young boy by surprise. Jungkook was trying to find the right words to see, but seeing as she was waiting anxiously for an answer, he embraced her tightly, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "As long as I get to see you, I think all of it is worth it. I will never get tired of it because I want to see your smile. So don't worry, I'll always make time for you." He said, pulling her closer and kissed her forehead, smiling at her oh so sweetly. Bri felt flustered and buried her face in his chest causing him to laugh.

Before she knew it, she started crying. Her feelings overwhelmed her and her heart felt heavy. Against the ice cold winter, her tears felt hot and warm. She wanted to stop crying but the more she thought about it, the more her tears fell. Truth is, she hasn't been able to see him lately, so when he said he'll come tonight she waited for hours, but he never came. She feared that his feelings might have changed. She was just an ordinary girl while he was a famous kpop idol, did he really become uninterested? Her fear overwhelmed her more and more as she couldn't stop crying.

She wished she could ask him but she was too afraid of hearing what she actually had feared. The night was getting colder. She wiped her tears to head back home before she could catch a cold.

"Bri?" She heard a gentle voice call out for her. She recognized that voice. She turned around only for her gaze to met his. She didn't expect to see him and asked what he's doing here. "I was trying to reach you but you didn't pick up, I was getting worried," he said, taking a step closer. You looked at your phone and saw that he really did call many times. Your phone was on silent so how could you have noticed? "I wanted to check up on you because you didn't pick up. I'm so happy to see- Bri, are you okay?" He asked, slightly concerned. It took her a moment to understand what he was asking, but then it hit her. She tried to look away, telling him that she's okay.

He cupped her face, making her look at him. He asked her what happened. She broke down and told him how long she's been waiting. His expression was filled with guilt. He felt ashamed that he was the reason she cried. He hugged her tightly, apologizing to her. He never knew how he made her feel. He rubbed her back as she silently cried in his arms, never once stopping her.

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must���ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were ���happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

[mythamongpeople]

A painted skin

           It was a long and lonesome Christmas night, when lights had long gone out and the stars had long retreated under the darkness of the Hallow, a man strikes foot at a hurried pace, all the while checking his clock. This was supposed to be a very special occasion, for both him and his beloved husband, for on this very night three years ago, their fate collied, then the same night, a year later, they were married. He had prepared the most perfect suit, made a reservation at the finest restaurant in town,... everything that was to make this a perfect night... Well, “almost perfect”, if not for the last-minute urgent meeting . Thinking about how disappointing his fated pair would be, he practically ran at this point, all the while thinking of a good apology for being late on the very night. “Surely he would understand”, he thought.

          Then all of the sudden, he got chilled down his spine, as he got this unnerving feeling that he was being followed. “You need to toughen yourself up, it is not a supernatural phenomenon for people to walk around on Christmas Eve”,  he reassured himself. But the more he thought about it, the weirder it seemed as he was certain there was usually no one hanging around this neighborhood on such night. His mind was wandering about then he heard a loud screech.           

           A dark figure dashed out of the shadow in a corner and landed right on him. They wrestled each other under the starless sky, all the while screaming and hissing mixed, but it was as if there was no one hearing the commotion. Years of gymnastics and a healthy lifestyle finally paid off, for even the being in front of him was strong, he was nowhere lesser in the fight. But alas, his opponent got the upper hand and pinned him to the ground. His head hit the earth with such strength that put him in a bizarre shock. As he was slowly slipping into darkness, he could only be heard as this figure was grazing his face “ Good-looking people like you must have always thought that beauty is the key to everything... But not to worry, you will be the last key I needed for my grand finale...”

---------

           Jacey had been on the tip of his toes for the past few days, for night after night, he had been having this same horrible nightmare: A dark tall figure standing beside his bedpost screaming that he must flee from this place, and something about “myth”?. As to why he must do it, he did not know as his dream was always cut off at that moment, with him bolting up from his sleep.

           “Are you alright my dear? You look awfully tired as if you haven’t gotten any sleep for quite some time now.” Jacey looked up to see Tames’s worried eyes. He signed – he could not keep this up forever.

           “ I am quite alright”, he could not give Tames any more reason to worry for him, he already had too much burden on himself already, “ please just enjoy our anniversary together, and make some time for yourself too. I know you have always worked so hard to provide and ensure a good life for the both of us, but please, think for yourself more, if not for you then for me?”

          “ Whatever you say, bǎobèi” – my darling, a term of endearment Tames gave that Jacey had ever come to love, just as he loved everything about Tames – the very best thing that changed his whole life, and he must confess there is not much thing that is good in his life, to begin with.

          Having said that himself, the nauseous feeling of uneasiness still lingered around in the stomach. Noticing the tension in the air, Tames leaned in and brushed his lips across his husband’s ears and said: “ You know.... they said chocolate and sex are very good for stress relieving. Unfortunately... I don’t have any chocolate.”

          “Your words are so corny for a university teacher”,

          “Only for you, bǎobèi”, Tames smirked. “However, our villa is too far away, so let me show some other talents other than saying practiced corny words”

          He then pushed Jacey onto the ground, and the two started with a very light, fluttering kiss. Soon enough, it deepened into something more passionately, as the two young lads hungrily embraced each other, and they could care less since they were in a private chamber anyway. Tames then trailed his kiss down the collar bone, across Jacey’s chest, all the while sucking on his lover’s nipples. Jacey moaned as he tugged at Tames’s hair.  Finally, Tames reached down and started to suck on his lover’s cock, all the while using his hand to stroke up and down his own. As the sun lay finally set, the two came together in a blissful burst of lust and grace. Tames swallowed all of his husband’s milky substant and then pried Jacey’s lips open for a deep kiss. Jacey was panting heavily by then and exclaimed

          “Goodness me, that was so hot! The respected professor Tames I knew will never do something this improper.”

          “Let’s say, just like a tree turns new leaves, I too turn a new “skin”. Now let me carry you to the car, and when we get home, I will show you a few tricks I have learned”          

“ I’m looking forward to it”, Jacey smiled. Maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe all were fine and he was just having a nightmare from the exhaustion from work.

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

            After a few rounds of passionate love at home, it was 5 AM and Jacey was sound asleep, exhausted from all the sex they had. Tames woke up all of a sudden, panting heavily. Then he looked at the sleeping figure next to him: “Foolish brat”, he thought, he then pulled up his jeans and matched his way to the bathroom. Looking at the mirror, Tames used his hands to caress and touch every part of his body, from his face to his muscular firm chest, down to his rock-hard abs “What an unfaithful dumb whore you are Jacey, did you really think running to this bastard can help you escape from me?” he grinned to his reflection in the mirror while shaving, twisting Tames’s soft handsome feature into something way more sinister.

         “Tames” held his hands up behind his nape, then traced his fingers down to his spine then slowly peeled upward to his head. The skin behind his back splited, and “Tames” slowly pulled his facial skin forward. With an eerily slurping and slooshing sound, “Tames” ‘s whole face fell down to his chest, leaving behind a more chubby face of a man in his 40s.

          It was Jack, Jacey’s former lover, an abusive racist man that tormented Jacey for years. Jack held Tames’s hollow face in his now long, slender fingers and muttered: “ I took you in Jacey, and yet just because of a few beating, you could not bear it and turned me to the police”. He traced his abs, all the while thinking back to how he once was.   

            “ I once had this kind of abs. But I had gotten this obese because of you, Jacey. Even after I came and begged for your forgiveness, you still turned me away, even threatened to sue me.” Deep in thoughts, he slowly pulled off the rest of his body, from the muscular arms, down to his ripped abs. He then pulled his hardened cock, out of Tames’s much longer penis.

          “ It was only by chance I came upon this cursed seal in a Chinese expedition. Legend has it that this seal bears the power of a shapeshifting monster, which can draw skin out of mere paper. But that kind of skin doesn’t last very long, so I used another of its power. On that faithful Christmas, I cornered your little lover and drank of his essence from him. Kind of like one of those vampire movies I guess. Then all I needed to do was seal his essence in a bracelet. With it and the skin, I can be your beloved “Tames” inside out and no one is the wiser.”, the older man snickered. “Oh, the irony, to be tricked by your own legend. How absurd that sound.”

          “ I better get this skin into the shower and give myself a good bath. All of this acting has started to take a toll on me and I really need a relaxing bath.”

            As Jack finished his bath, he looked at the new fresh skin and pondered “But I got to admit, possessing this handsome vessel and all of the knowledge do have its benefit. A whore that waits to workship my body, a respected title at a renowned Ivy League university, a Thai model ,an expensive lifestyle,... all of those are now MINE”, he smiled wickedly. He then started putting his lanky legs into more muscular ones, all the while still inside the shower.

          Jack stroked his limb cock for it to harden and started to push it into Tames’s.

          “ AHH, GOD. The sensation of this part always makes me start to pre-cum”.          

          He then pulled up the rest of his abdominal area, and all of his fat gut disappear into Tames’s abs with a slop. The rest of his arms were also put into Tames’s muscular one. Finally, Jack raised Tames’s face up, with one hand pinching the nose and the other holding the behind, he started to align his face, then traced the skin gap behind his back with his fingers. Soon, there is no longer Jack the obsessed 40s white man, but Tames – his body like a Greek sculptor.

          “Tames”, with the residual sensation earlier, started stroking his hardened 4.8 inches cock, all the while pinching his nipples and massaging his body. Then like a flare of flames ignited behind his eyes, “Tames” threw his head back while twitching as the hot milky fluid poured from his manhood. He scooped up a handful of the milk then licked it, leaving behind a mildly sweet and salty flavor. “Tasty”, “Tames” said as he leaked his lips.

          There was a knock on the door, he could hear Jacey spoke with urgency: “Tames you need to hurry up, your photoshoot will start at 7”.

          “Coming, you go and fix things up first, bǎobèi. I will be right after”, said Tames with his deep voice, smiling.

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

             The photoshoot happened soon after, and Jacey was with him the whole time. As he posed for the picture, he could not help but wonder if all of this fiasco was only for vengeance, or somewhere deep down his heart, he still harbored some feeling for this Chinese boy, who once was the light of his life, till he was consumed by his own darkness.     

              For now, he was contented with what he got, even what he got was stolen from another flesh, that all of this happiness was all fabricated illusion. Perhaps in this world, there is no forgiveness.

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

            Somewhere, on a rooftop far away, a mysterious man wore a long black cloak, watching them shoot and wondering: “So it has truly returned. I wonder, how long will these illusive acting last? I haven’t chased a monster in a long time and I am thrilled to be a hunter once again”.

[angie-likes-to-art]

Hooked on You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: The roof was always a safe spot for you and Peter to get away from everything, and even after years, nothing's changed. Word Count: 1064 Warnings: Pining, a little angsty maybe Masterlist

For the ‘city that never sleeps,’ it was awfully quiet at this time of night, at least in this corner of Queens. You could still hear the whirring of car engines, construction equipment banging up against each other, and the distant sirens of emergency vehicles from the roof of your building, but it was a stark contrast to the sounds that filled your ears during the day. This is why the sudden sound of a voice made you jump.

“Oh, hey,” the voice came from someone climbing up the fire escape, even if your eyes couldn’t identify the person in the dark, you knew the voice anywhere. Peter had lived on the same floor as you and your family for years. You both were quite young when his aunt and your mother became close friends so you spent most of your time together, becoming best friends in no time. But unfortunately, you had drifted apart in the middle of high school because the girls you were also friends with teased you for being friends with a boy. And you wanting desperately to fit in stopped hanging out with him in public eventually outside of school as well. After you stopped being friends with those girls, you regretted breaking off the friendship with Peter but were too embarrassed to reconnect after all that time passed. You both were now graduated from high school, Peter was dating the valedictorian, going to college for photojournalism and bioengineering, and seemed happier than ever (all according to his Aunt May), and you were still living at home, scraping by in community college, and saving up tips from your shitty waitressing job to move out.

“Peter, hi, I didn’t know you were home from school,” you breathed out with a smile and pulled your knees into your chest, you hadn’t seen him in a while let alone talked to him.

“Yeah, I was feeling pretty cramped in the dorms, needed to come up for air,” He described sitting next to you and hanging his long legs over the edge of the building.

“How is it there?” you asked after giving an understanding nod at his sentiment.

“‘S good, but kinda stressful, the classes are fun, Harry’s hard to live with at times, been too a few parties,” he paused as if debating to continue, “Gwen and I broke up,” he admits in a low voice that you wouldn’t be able to hear if you were any farther away or if it were during the noisy daytime.

“What happened?” you couldn’t help but be nosey after your chats with Aunt May about how well Peter was doing. And there was something about sitting together on the roof that made the both of you want to open up. You had spent many late nights up here together before you drifted apart talking about crushes or grades, or even deeper topics like the future or Peter’s parents.

“Our schedules didn’t really work together, we’re both too busy, or at least she was,” he explained, laying back on the brick, looking up at the night sky, “How are you?” he wonders, tilting his head up looking at your back as your still looking out over the city from the edge of the roof. You turned to face him at the question, crossing your legs in front of you.

“Same old,” you shrug, “been helping mom out at the diner, doing some online classes,” you explain, suddenly feeling embarrassed for not being at a four-year school like he is, but he doesn’t think anything of it, and goes on to ask about your parents and what kind of classes you are taking and describing his own. After all those years, you forgot how easy it was to talk to him and all the fond memories you shared with him.

“Is that my sweater?” he suddenly asks, sitting himself up on his elbows. You look down to your chest and yeah, you wore a brown striped knit sweater that was handed down to Peter from his father. He said he never liked the style and gave the oversized sweaters to you after you told him you liked them.

“Uh yeah,” you confirmed, pulling at the hem where some stands came loose from the nervous habit, “it’s one of my favorites”

“It looks good on you,” he confesses lowly, then continues, “I’m glad I gave those to you, better they get used than collecting dust in a box in my closet.” He goes on like his compliment didn’t cause a swarm of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your cheeks to basically light on fire.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter out, “they- uh they always remind me of- of you.” you continue after taking a breath that does nothing to calm your nerves.

“I think about you a lot,” he says and turns his eye line back to the sky, and you’re glad he doesn’t see your wide eyes at the admission

“Really?” you breathe out quietly, not trusting your voice not to break.

“Mhm,” he nods, “I always had a huge crush on you, even after we stopped being friends” He looks back over to you after he hears you let out a shaky breath. “I thought I’d get over it once I started dating Gwen, but a little part of me was always hooked on you.” He sits up and scoots even closer to you.

“I always liked you too,” you confess, “I never thought I had a chance since we were ‘just friends’ and I never knew how to tell you,” you continued and stared into your lap, messing with the loose yarn on your sweater again.

“And now?” he asks and places and hand on your thigh.

“I still don’t know how to tell you,” meeting his eyes again you see them flick down to your mouth.

“You don’t have to,” you can feel his warm breath on your face and can't help to look down at his pink, parted lips as well, “Can I-?” he starts but you cut him by meeting your lip together and running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is better than you’d ever imagined, you can feel all the pent-up feelings and years of pining lift off your back as your lips move in sync and his hands meet your cheeks.