#we will just ignore that attempt at a hand

[4linos]

they call you clingy.

ot8 x fem!reader

warning: really angsty, feeling insecure/unworthy, no happy endings. (sorry)

wc: 8708

bang chan

You and Chan had been together for a while, and things were generally great between you two. You had your own lives, your own routines, but there was always a sense of closeness between you that you both cherished. Lately, though, you’d found yourself tagging along with him more often, especially when he had dinner plans with the members.

At first, he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed having you around, and the other members seemed to appreciate it too. Some of their girlfriends were there as well, so it felt natural, like a group gathering. But after a while, you started coming along more frequently, not wanting to spend evenings apart. You thought it was a way to spend more time with him, but you could tell it was starting to weigh on Chan, though you weren’t sure why.

Chan said nothing at first, but you could tell he became quieter and more distant throughout these dinners. He looked at his phone more frequently, and his smile seemed forced when you spoke with him or the others. Still, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was just your imagination. You weren't doing anything wrong by wanting to be with him, right? You had every right to join him on nights when he was with the other members. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

One evening, as you all gathered for a casual dinner at a restaurant, the atmosphere was different. You were laughing, eating, and talking with some of the other girls when you realized Chan was particularly quiet. He was nibbling at his food and not really participating in the conversation. You leaned over to him, laying your hand on his arm, attempting to draw him into the moment.

"Chan, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle and anxious.

He shuddered slightly at the contact and gave you a fake smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he said, but the tiredness in his voice was clear. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did. It felt like he was pushing away from you just a little. Your stomach twisted as you tried to ignore the unease creeping in. Then, the conversation shifted. As the dinner continued, someone brought up how often you came along with Chan to these meals. You didn’t think much of it at first, but you could feel his discomfort growing.

“Honestly, though,” Chan suddenly chimed in, his voice a little more sharp than usual, “it’s getting a bit much. She’s always tagging along. It’s like she can’t ever be away from me. It's kind of suffocating.”

The words hit you like a smack in the face. You froze, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension in the air evident. You could feel everyone's gaze on you, and your cheeks reddened with shame. You tried to shrug it off, believing it was a joke, but the expression in Chan's eyes revealed his disinterest. He was not joking. Time seemed to slow down, and you could feel the sting of his words settling deep within you. Without thinking, you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom, your chest tight and your eyes welling with tears. You locked yourself in a stall and tried to calm your pounding heart, but the words replayed in your mind over and over again. “Clingy,” “suffocating.” You felt small, insignificant, and utterly hurt.

Meanwhile, at the table, the other members exchanged glances, seemingly uneasy about what had just happened. After a minute, Hyunjin spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Chan, that wasn't cool, man. Why would you say anything like that? She isn't clinging at all. She's just trying to spend time with you."

Felix nodded in line, his tone quiet yet forceful. "Yeah, we really like having her around. She makes things more fun, you know? I don't understand why you'd say something like that.”

Chan wasn't sure how to answer. He had meant it as a joke, something to relieve the stress he'd been experiencing lately, but now that he'd heard the other responses from the others, a rush of shame swept over him. He felt he'd crossed a boundary, but it wasn't until they spoke out that he recognized how serious the situation was. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered, but his apologies seemed hollow even for him.

His thoughts was muddled by remorse, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely embarrassed. "I think you should go talk to her," Minho said softly. "She is probably really hurt right now. You have to make it right."

Chan’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to think about how badly he’d hurt you. His usual confident self was gone, replaced by a knot of regret.

lee know

It was one of those days. The sort where everything you touched seemed to fall apart, and every corner you turned revealed another disaster ready to happen. The day began with your boss screaming at you for something you didn't even do, his anger pouring out on you as if it were your responsibility that the world was collapsing. You hardly had time to calm yourself before spilling your coffee all over your blouse at lunch. The entire day had been an upsurge of humiliating incidents, missed deadlines, and biting your tongue to resist snapping at everyone who gave you the wrong look.

You were physically and emotionally drained when you arrived home. You just wanted the day to end, to close your eyes and forget everything. However, when you walked through the door, you were welcomed by a familiar, comfortable smell.

Minho was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and humming softly to himself while making something. Your heart lifted a little because he was here, cooking for you. The simple gesture of kindness was a welcome breath of fresh air after a long day of drowning.

You stood by the door, hesitant whether to interrupt, but then he turned toward you with a gentle smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You forced a smile, despite the weight of the day pressing on you. “It was... fine. I’m just glad to be home.”

He noticed the weariness in your eyes and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. It was the kind of comfort you needed, even if you didn’t know it until he offered it. “Relax. I’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you just sit down and take it easy?”

You nodded, thankful for his concern, but something inside you refused to just sit back and do nothing. It felt awful to be passive while he was so busy. "Let me help," you volunteered, heading near the counter, attempting to gather yourself after a stressful day. Minho gently shook his head, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "There's no need. "Please relax, okay?" You couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. He was always so selfless and compassionate, and you didn't want to be someone who just sat by. Instead of disputing, you nodded and gave in to his desire. He was right, after all; you could use a break. “Alright. But give me something small to do.”

Minho paused for a moment to contemplate, then assigned you a tiny task. "Okay, could you please tidy up a little while I finish the soup? Just wipe down the countertops." It seemed simple enough.

You took a rag and followed his instructions while he worked on the soup. The house was peaceful, almost serene, and you hadn't felt that type of peace all day. It was good to be here with him and feel like you weren't confronting the world alone.

But in the middle of cleaning, your eyes darted to the pot of soup on the stove. It smelled incredible like something he had poured his heart into. You felt a surge of gratitude, the kind that made you want to help him, to show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

Without thinking, you decided to move the pot, to give him a little more space so he could focus on finishing everything. You gently lifted the heavy pot, but as you tried to shift it, your grip faltered. The edge of the pot slipped from your hand, and in an instant, it tilted, the boiling liquid splashing violently all over the kitchen floor and onto your leg.

You screamed out in shock, the searing heat of the soup burning into your skin, but the pain on your leg was nothing compared to the way everything seemed to shatter around you. The kitchen became chaos. The pot had fallen, splattered everywhere, and the delicious smell was suddenly replaced with the pungent scent of spilled soup. You tried to gather yourself, but the kitchen was now a disaster, and so were you on the verge of tears, overwhelmed, hurt, and defeated.

Minho turned when he heard the accident. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance in an instant. You looked up, and his eyes were filled with anger. The following words he said struck you harder than the burn on your leg. "Why are you always so clingy? I spent hours making that! "If you had just stayed out of the way for once, this could have been avoided!" His voice was harsh and slashed through the air like a razor. You stared at him, frozen in shock.

Was this actually happening?

His words felt like a punch to your chest. They were not what you expected, not from him, not when you were already dealing with the weight of the world. Your mind scrambled to make sense of it. How had it come to this? How had you gone from being the person he always tried to comfort to someone he now seemed to resent?

He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. "God, I can't believe this," he said quietly, shaking his head. You always do this. You always get in the way. "Why can't you just relax and let me do it?"

You couldn't react because your heart was hammering painfully in your chest. You had spilled more than simply the soup. It was not only the mess. It was the sting of being accused of something you never wanted to do, like being too much. You did not want to be a burden for him. You never intended to make things more difficult, yet everything you did seemed to make things worse.

Minho sighed, looking at the mess with frustration. “Just… go to the room or something,” he snapped, turning away from you.

You stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling smaller than you ever had before. You knew he was angry, but the way he dismissed you, the way he acted like you were just an inconvenience, was something you hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t usually like this. But right now, it felt like you had done something unforgivable. It felt like everything you had ever tried to do for him had been wrong, every gesture of kindness or help misplaced.

Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, trying to steady yourself, but your hands trembled with the weight of his words. Hot tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. The physical pain in your leg from the burns was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You had wanted to help, to make things better for him. But now, all you could do was try to tend to your own wounds both physical and emotional alone.

You pulled yourself up slowly, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, trying to find the strength to move. Minho was still in the kitchen, silent now, cleaning up the mess you had made, but his anger still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

You left him there, retreating to your bedroom, feeling more isolated than you had in a long time. The night was quiet, but the silence between you and Minho felt louder than ever. And in that silence, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep trying to be the person he wanted you to be when everything you did seemed to push him further away.

changbin

The evening started out like any other. You and Changbin were going to go to the gym together after a long day. You were excited to spend more time with him, especially since you had been trying to join him at the gym more often recently. At first, it seemed like a fun bonding activity. You'd go to encourage him, attempt to keep up with some of the exercises, and simply enjoy being with him. Changbin had always been a bit of a lone wolf, preferring his own time to recuperate, but he'd been nice enough to let you tag along at first.

You didn’t realize that things had slowly started to change. What had initially felt like an innocent way to spend more time together had started to weigh on him. Maybe it was because you’d started following him around everywhere always just a few steps behind, trying to do what he was doing, lingering around him during his sets. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his usual space anymore. But whatever the reason, Changbin was beginning to feel the pressure, and he didn’t know how to tell you.

You had no idea how much your presence at the gym was bothering him. He wasn't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad about wanting to spend time with him, but tonight was different. He could feel his patience fading and his irritation growing the more you wanted to incorporate yourself into his routine. It was supposed to be his time to escape. He needed the gym to be his sanctuary, a place to unwind and clear his mind. But tonight, as you followed him from machine to machine, everything came to a head.

The air in the gym seemed heavier than usual. Changbin could feel his patience fraying as you followed him for what seemed like the umpteenth time. You weren't doing anything wrong, yet he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that you were constantly present. His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall; he'd been here for nearly an hour. And it wasn't that you were clingy in an obnoxious way; it was simply that you were always with him, which was enough to frustrate him.

He couldn't concentrate, couldn't clear his mind as he used to. You were always there, following his every move, asking questions about his setups, and attempting to get in the way of his routine. His thoughts were clouded, his mind no longer able to concentrate on the iron and his own movements. He couldn’t unwind. He couldn’t breathe.

When you followed him to the weights area once again, his frustration bubbled over.

“Y/N, can you just stop?” he snapped, his voice harsh and sharp, completely different from the usual warmth you were used to. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Can you just let me have this one thing? The gym isn’t supposed to be some place where you follow me around all the time. I need it to be my own. I need my space. You’re always here, and it’s... it’s too much.”

You froze, a cold shiver of confusion running through your body. Your eyes flickered from his irritated face to the ground, unsure of what to say. You had always been so excited to share things with him, and this was the last place you thought something like this would happen.

“B-Bin... I didn’t—" you started, your voice faltering, but he cut you off, his frustration spilling over.

“You’re always clinging to me, Y/N. And at first, I thought it was cute. But now? It’s just too much. The gym is supposed to be my alone time, somewhere I can relax, somewhere I can focus. But you’re here, and I can’t even do that anymore,” he said, each word feeling like a weight crashing down on you.

Your chest tightened and you found yourself unable to breathe for a little while. It felt as if the world had stopped moving around you, and all you could hear was the flow of blood in your ears. You weren't expecting to hear those words from him. Changbin had always been supportive and loving, even if he was a little protective of his space. What about now? Now it felt like he was pushing you away. And the way he avoided your gaze while he spoke, as if he couldn't stand to witness the pain he was causing, you could feel your heart breaking piece by piece.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat was too big, and the pain was too overwhelming. You weren’t clingy. You just wanted to be close to him. You didn’t realize that your presence, something you thought was innocent, had been smothering him. But hearing it from him so bluntly… it felt like a punch to the gut.

You said nothing at first. Your body was stiff, your eyes filled with unshed tears. You wanted to say something, but the words would not come out. Instead, you simply turned slowly and began to walk away. "I'll go," you said softly, your voice barely audible. Your steps were wobbly as you approached the exit. Changbin turned around, his heart sinking into his chest. It hit him, followed by the look in your eyes. Your lips quivered. He realized what he had just said. The frustration and fury had been misplaced. He didn't mean to hurt you. He wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted. But it was too late now. The damage was done.

“Y/N—wait!” he called after you, but it was no use. You didn’t even turn around. You just kept walking, your back stiff, your steps hurried.

hyunjin

(a/n: you and hyunjin aren’t a couple here, you’re childhood best friends)

The after-party had been buzzing with energy all night, full of celebration and the kind of chaotic, joyful atmosphere that followed every successful concert. It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a chance to let go of the weight of the stage and just relax with friends. You, however, couldn’t seem to shake off the knot of tension that had been growing inside you for weeks.

It hadn’t been an abrupt change, not really. Hyunjin, your best friend, had slowly started to become distant. At first, it was subtle, a shift in the way he looked at you, the way he barely seemed to notice when you were around. But now, it had become glaringly obvious, especially in moments like this, when you found yourself desperately trying to keep the connection you two had built over the years.

You’d always been there for him, supporting him through everything the highs and the lows. But lately, whenever you tried to lean on him, he pulled away. The distance between you had begun to feel insurmountable, and tonight, surrounded by the group at the after-party, it felt like the final straw.

You felt an odd, uncomfortable pull as soon as you walked inside the party. The sight of Hyunjin laughing with the rest of the group should have made you happy, but instead it made your chest tighten with anxiety. He looked... unusual. His eyes, the way they avoided yours, made it clear that something had changed between you two. You despised the sense of being on the outside, like you didn't belong anymore.

You had tried to give him his space during the last few weeks, respecting the growing distance between you. But tonight, you were determined to be present. To pretend as if everything was still fine.

After all, you were his best friend, right?

You moved over to where he was sitting, talking with Seungmin and Jeongin. When they saw you approaching, Jeongin's face lit up with that warm, welcome smile that always put you at at ease. He gave you a warm nod and motioned for you to join them, which you immediately did, thinking that the familiarity of the situation could help the uneasiness that had begun to settle over you. But once you sat down, Hyunjin's tone changed. His eyes flicked across to you for a quick, unreadable look before returning to the others. You tried not to take it personally, but it hurt. Jeongin was chatting animatedly about something, but you couldn't pay attention. All you could think about was how Hyunjin had practically turned his back on you.

After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You leaned closer to Hyunjin, trying to keep your tone light, as if everything were normal. “Hey, Hyunjin... you good? You’ve seemed off lately.”

He looked at you, his expression suddenly sharp. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly, and there was a coldness to his voice that cut through you like ice.

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been able to talk through things before, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to acknowledge you. You tried again, your voice trembling just slightly, “I’m just checking in... I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distant.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, as if he were irritated with you asking. “You’re always around,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t need you following me everywhere. It’s annoying.”

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, the weight of his comment sinking deep into your chest. You had no idea where this was coming from. You had always been there for him, not because you needed to be, but because you cared about him. You wanted to be there. But now, suddenly, it felt like you were an inconvenience.

The room felt suffocating, the noise of the party growing distant as you tried to process what he had just said. You had always been careful not to smother him, always tried to give him space. But now he was telling you that your presence, your very existence, was too much for him.

It was too much.

The lump in your throat grew, but you weren’t going to let him see you falter. You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, but you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that came flooding to the surface. You had tried so hard to be understanding, to be patient, but this was too much to handle.

Before you could say anything more, you snapped. “You know what, Hyunjin? I’m not following you around,” your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m only here because Felix invited me. As his date.”

The words hung in the air, sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. You could feel the sting of betrayal, the way Hyunjin had made you feel small, and the anger bubbled up inside you. The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention now focused on the exchange.

You didn’t look at Hyunjin. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned on your heel, your pulse pounding in your ears, and walked straight to Felix, who was standing nearby. He gave you a surprised glance, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, offering you a comforting presence in the midst of your emotional storm.

You didn't speak for a time, your thoughts racing from the argument, but Felix didn't press you to explain. He just let you sit there in peace, his arm resting comfortably on your shoulder. You leaned into him, attempting to center yourself and escape the overpowering pain that threatened to consume you whole. Felix did not deserve to bear the burden of your wounded heart, but in that time, his comfort was the only thing that made sense.

Hyunjin's gaze stayed fixed on you as the party went on. But you refused to look his direction. He'd already made it apparent that your presence no longer mattered to him. He had driven you away with his hurtful words, and as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew deep down that it was too late to fix things.

The rest of the night was a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how he had made you feel so small, so insignificant. The person who had once been your best friend, who had always been there for you, was now the one who had cast you aside. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know why.

As the party wound down and everyone began to leave, you stayed close to Felix, not looking back, not wanting to face Hyunjin. You didn’t know what had changed between you two, or why he had suddenly decided that your friendship wasn’t worth his time. All you knew was that the person who had once been your closest confidant, the one who knew all your secrets and fears, had just torn your heart apart.

And you didn’t know how to fix it.

HAN

The evening began like any other, or so it was supposed to be. But Jisung felt as if the world was pushing down on him with every step he made into the apartment. The intensity of the day still clung to him, like a physical weight of frustration, disappointment, and tiredness. He had spent hours in the meeting with the company staff, only to hear criticism for the smallest mistakes and missteps. It wasn't the first time, but it always hurt. This time, however, it seemed different; he couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy.

The door clicked behind him, and the familiar aroma of home didn't bring much comfort. Instead, it was almost smothering. His limbs ached, his mind raced, and all he needed was peace, time to unwind.

But you were there.

You always were.

As soon as he walked through the door, your eyes searched his face, and he could see the concern etched over your features. He could tell you'd sensed something was wrong. He attempted to disguise it when he saw you earlier that day, brushing off your "are you okay?" with a quick "yeah, I'm fine," but now, as you stood there with that sweet look in your eyes, he couldn't help but see it. You could look right through him, like glass.

"Jisung," you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tone you always used when you knew he was struggling, "are you sure you're okay? You don’t look okay."

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked. You'd been asking since the moment he came home, like you always did when you saw him worn down, like you always did when he looked like he was holding a little too much in. But no matter how well you meant it, no matter how much you truly cared about him, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Not today. Not tonight.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

You hesitated, eyes scanning him again, sensing the distance between his words and the tension in his body.

"Jisung… I know you’re not fine," you said softly, a frown pulling at your lips. You reached toward him, wanting to bridge the gap that was widening between you, but he stepped back before you could touch him.

"I’m fine," he repeated, louder this time, irritation lacing his voice. "Just stop asking."

Your heart twisted, but you tried to swallow the hurt, not wanting to push him further. But you couldn’t stop yourself from trying again, desperate to get him to open up. "Please, I can tell something’s wrong. If you need to talk, I’m here."

He froze at that, hands clenched at his sides, jaw clenched. His frustration, the irritation that had been building inside him all day, finally cracked open.

"I said I'm fine!" He snapped, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with anger, not at you, but at the world that had worn him down. "Why are you always so clingy? It's annoying. I do not need you hovering over me like this. I don't need you constantly keeping tabs on me!" The words were biting and nasty. You trembled, a flood of hurt smashing over you, but you tried to stay calm.

You couldn't help but feel the sting of dismissal and the weight of his harshness. "I'm just trying to help you," you said softly, your voice quivering slightly. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Why don't you let me help?"

He glanced at you, the spark of guilt in his eyes swiftly drowned out by the a flood of frustration within him. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to apologize. He knew he hurt you. But the words did not come, and he had no idea how to make it right. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted when everything inside him felt like it was about to come apart.

You did not wait for him to say anything. The anger, bewilderment, and hurt welled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and marched out, your footsteps loud and strong as you made your way to the bedroom.

The door slammed behind you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. You sank onto the bed, feeling the weight of the frustration both his and yours press down on your chest like a suffocating blanket.

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to feel this way. You had only wanted to help him. To be there for him when he was struggling. But all he had done was push you away.

You heard no footsteps, no soft knock on the door. Normally, when something like this happened, he would come after you. He would apologize, his voice soft and regretful, and you’d make up. He’d say something about how it wasn’t you, how he was just having a hard time. But this time, the silence stretched on. The door stayed closed.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t coming.

The silence felt so loud, so suffocating, and it only made everything hurt more. He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to soothe you like he always did.

And maybe this time it wasn't all about him. Maybe it was more than simply his tiredness and irritation. Maybe it was about something deeper, something more than just a bad day at work. Your heart broke at the thought that he might have pushed you away because he didn't know how to accept you. Maybe he'd been hiding his pain for so long because he was frightened to show you the parts of himself he thought were too shattered. Maybe he was just too stressed to recognize that you weren't a burden, but rather someone who wanted to help him shoulder the weight.

But right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had called you clingy, had pushed you away when all you wanted was to hold him close.

You curled up in bed, hugging your knees to your chest, and tried not to cry.

You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt the weight of the bed shift beside you. Jisung’s presence was always so familiar, so warm, but tonight it felt distant. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, in the darkness, as the minutes dragged on.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t know if you could ask him again if he was okay. Not yet. Not until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t.

felix

It had been one of those days where everything seemed strange, as if a thin film of tension had been applied to the edges of everything you did. The kind of day where even the most basic tasks felt significant, and no matter how hard you tried to make things feel normal, you couldn't escape the growing distance. Maybe you chalked it up to stress. Maybe it was just a phase. Everyone goes through a hard stretch, right? But when you woke in the middle of the night, your hand instinctively going for the warm spot beside you, only to find it empty, that emotion became too strong to ignore. Felix had always been the one to stay close, even in sleep. He was always so attentive to your needs, so present. But now, the space between you was cold, and the bed felt too large without him there.

You sat up, the quiet of the room pressing in on you, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. The soft glow of the TV in the living room flickered across the hallway, casting long shadows.

As you made your way down the hall, you saw him there, slumped on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen but unseeing, staring at it like it held some answer that he couldn’t quite grasp. You could see the strain in his posture, the weight of something pressing on him, but he didn't acknowledge you as you approached.

You stopped a few feet away, unsure what to say. The silence between you two felt like a wall, immovable and unbreakable. This wasn't the Felix you knew, the one who would always offer a comforting smile or an encouraging word when you needed it. This version of him was remote and frigid, as if he built a fortress and did not plan to let anyone in.

"Felix," you whispered slowly, trying not to shock him, your voice trembling with emotion. "What's wrong?"

He didn’t respond at first, as if he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like it added more distance between you two. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and it hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Nothing,” he muttered, though it was clear that wasn’t true. His words didn’t match the heaviness in the air, the emptiness that had settled between you two. “Just… leave me alone, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Leave him alone? You didn’t understand. Since when had he ever asked you for space, especially like this? Felix had always been the one to reach out, to comfort you, to be the one you could lean on when things got tough. But now, he was shutting you out, pushing you away.

You stood there, paralyzed, staring at the back of his head as the emptiness in the room seemed to swallow you whole. His posture was stiff, almost defensive, like he was trying to make himself smaller, trying to hide from you, and it hurt more than you ever expected.

"You don't have to be so clingy all the time," he said, his voice more clipped and distant than you'd ever heard. It was as if the words were spoken by someone else, a stranger in the body of the person you loved.

Clingy? The word resonated in your thoughts, sending you reeling. You'd never considered yourself clingy. Have you really gotten so annoying? Was your affection and presence too much for him? You couldn't understand it. The connection, the intimacy that had once been so natural between you two now seemed so far away, as if it were a dream you couldn't fathom.

“I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry, not to show him just how much his words had wounded you. “I just wanted to know what’s wrong. You’re… you’re not like this, Felix. Not with me.”

You took a tentative step forward, hoping that your proximity would reach him, that your presence would somehow break through the wall he had built around himself. But he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, and that hurt more than anything else. It was the silence, the refusal to face you, that felt like a betrayal.

"Please talk to me," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched him remain motionless on the couch, his eyes still fixed on the television, as though he could pretend you weren’t even there.

But Felix didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his focus on the screen, the distant expression on his face more painful than any argument. You could feel the distance between you growing, spreading like a chasm, and it felt like you were standing at the edge, about to fall into the void.

It wasn't always this way, you thought, recalling times when simply being in the same room was enough to make you feel connected. It seemed as if you blinked and everything had changed. He wasn't the same Felix who would stay up with you when you were feeling sad, holding you and whispering comfort in the darkness. The man who had once looked at you with warmth and love now seemed so distant, like a stranger you didn't recognize.

Your heart ached; the anguish of losing him, feeling him slide through your fingers, was almost excruciating. You could not tolerate the deafening stillness between you any longer.

With a last, desperate glance at him, you whispered, “I’m here, Felix. I’m always here for you. If you need space, if you need time, I’ll give it to you. But I just… I just need to know you’re okay.”

But he didn't respond and didn't move. His silence hurt worse than words could, and you realized, with a sickening feeling, that you had no idea where you stood in his life. The Felix you knew, the Felix who would always reach out to you, seemed like a memory you could no longer grasp onto. You turned away, your feet feeling heavy as you walked back to the bedroom, the distance between you two becoming more than just physical.

The weight of his disinterest crushed against your chest, smothering you, and you wondered whether things would ever be the same again. Will he come to you eventually? Would he tell you about what was bothering him, or had you already lost him in ways you couldn’t fix?

You climbed back into bed, the sheets cold where he should have been beside you. And as the night stretched on in silence, you tried not to feel the unbearable emptiness that had settled in your heart, wondering if Felix would ever look at you the same way again.

seungmin

The front door creaked open, and you could hear Seungmin's footsteps in the hallway, dragging slightly, indicating how exhausted he must have been after a long day of practice and vocal lessons. You'd been waiting for him, possibly too eagerly, though you tried not to admit it. You had planned to talk, the conversation you'd been putting off for days because the silence had gotten unbearable. The subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he became more distant and engaged in his own world, weighed heavy on your chest.

You knew how busy he was, how much work he put into his training and craft. But it didn't take away the sting of feeling like an afterthought, as if you were no longer a part of his life. You had tried to keep it together, to give him his space when he needed it, but the continual feeling of being neglected was gradually pulling you apart. You needed him to see you. You needed him to care the way he used to, to put forth the same effort that you did.

So, as the door clicked shut and you heard him move toward the kitchen, you braced yourself and entered the hallway to greet him.

"Seungmin," you called softly, but there was no immediate response. He didn’t even look up, didn’t even glance in your direction.

You took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety from choking you. "Can we talk?" Your voice was steady, though you could feel the tremor beneath it. "It feels like we’re not the same anymore."

His footsteps faltered for half a second, and you thought maybe you had caught his attention. But instead of stopping, he just continued walking past you, brushing past your shoulder so closely you could feel the coldness radiating off him. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

"Seungmin," you said again, but this time there was a little crack in your voice, a vulnerability you didn't want to express. You needed him to hear and see you, even if just for a moment. But he did not stop. Finally, he gave a low, exasperated groan that hung between you like a wall. He turned halfway, his eyes flickering to you with an enigmatic expression. "Why do you always make things so dramatic?" His comments were harsh, cutting through the silence and making you flinch. "You're really clingy. Just leave me alone for once."

The words were like a punch to the gut. The force of them knocked the wind out of you, and your heart seemed to stop for just a moment, trapped somewhere in the space between your chest and throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say something so cold, so dismissive. All you had wanted was to talk, to bridge the distance that had formed between you, but now it felt like you were drowning in it.

Your body went still. You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how unfair that was, but no words came. How could you even argue against that? How could you explain that all you wanted was his attention, his care? You weren’t clingy you were hurt.

"Seungmin, I’m not—" The words tumbled out weakly, but they didn’t seem to matter.

"You are," he interrupted, his tone now flat, distant. "I don’t have the energy for this right now."

He turned away from you, heading toward the kitchen without another glance, leaving you standing in the hallway, shattered.

You stood there for a long moment, frozen in the aftermath of his words. Everything you had been holding back, all the frustration, the confusion, the loneliness that had built up over the last few weeks, was suddenly crashing down on you like a wave. Was that it? Was that all you were to him now? Someone who was too much to deal with?

You had never felt so small. So invisible.

You had tried to keep it together. You had told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just stressed, that he didn’t mean it. But now, standing there in the hallway with nothing but the echo of his dismissal ringing in your ears, you realized that maybe this was the problem the distance. The lack of communication. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you could never reach him, never get him to understand what you needed, what you were hurting from.

You wanted to chase after him, to try again, to make him see how much his words had stung. But something inside of you had broken. There was a voice inside you now that said, "It’s too late. You’ve tried. He doesn’t want to listen." And that was more painful than anything else knowing that, deep down, he didn’t even want to meet you halfway anymore.

You had hoped, and even prayed, that things would return to normal, that the love you once shared would reemerge. But standing there, you couldn't help but feel as if you were fighting a losing war. You didn't ask for much: simply his time, presence, and devotion. You never expected this level of coldness in return.

The silence in the home became intolerable, and each second felt like a weight on your chest. You wanted to yell at him and urge him to care, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the barriers between you two grow higher and higher.

You turned away slowly, your legs heavy, your head spinning with everything you had just heard. You didn’t know what hurt more: his words or the fact that he had walked past you like you were nothing.

You needed him to care, but right now, it felt like the person you needed was already gone.

I.N

The evening had been everything you hoped it would be: thrilling, warm, and full of laughing. You'd been dating Jeongin for about a year, and he was finally introducing you to his members. It seemed like an important milestone in your relationship. You'd heard so much about them, and now you'd get to meet the people he cared about the most. The anticipation had you beaming all evening as you helped Jeongin in cooking dinner, your heart filled with delight at the prospect of cooking together and spending time with the people who were such an important part of his life.

The dinner had gone smoothly. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the sound of happy chatter and the clinking of silverware. The members were friendly, teasing each other and joking around. You could see why Jeongin was so close with them they were like brothers, comfortable and at ease with each other. You had felt so welcomed by them, their laughter contagious, and the food you had helped prepare had been met with praises.

As the night wore on, everyone settled into the living room, enjoying sweet treats and wine. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening, or so you had thought.

But as the evening wore on, you noticed something that made your stomach churn. Jeongin was distant. He had been quieter than normal, with his focus wandering. Normally, he would be the first to steal a kiss from you or press his hand on yours if you were close. But tonight? Tonight, it felt as if he was purposefully keeping distance between the two of you.

You brushed it off at first, believing he was just weary or stressed after introducing you to everyone. After all, meeting his members was a major step, and maybe he was just concerned with making sure things went smoothly.

But it wasn’t just that.

When you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, like you had done numerous times before without thinking twice, he pulled away almost immediately. The action was swift and sharp, as if you had done something wrong. You blinked in surprise, a frown tugging on your lips, but before you could ask what was wrong, he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "Stop being so clingy." The words struck you like a physical punch. You froze, the warmth of your feelings for him vanished, replaced by a frigid knot of perplexity and embarrassment. Did he mean it? You could feel the weight of the members' gazes as you looked around the room, though no one said anything. But you could tell they had heard, the awkward silence that followed making it painfully clear.

You felt heat rising up your cheeks, humiliated. Had you overstepped? You had never been clingy before and had never thought of yourself in that way. But his comments, which were cutting and contemptuous, hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. The casual tenderness you had always shared seemed like a distant memory today, a bitter reminder of how things had changed without warning.

Jeongin had always been so warm and tactile with you. Kisses on your cheek while cooking, his arm slung over your shoulder while watching TV, all the little things that made you feel safe and cherished. But tonight? Tonight he was a different person.

You tried to ignore it, thinking maybe it was a bad moment. Perhaps he was just tired, or maybe something had happened at work or with the members that was weighing on him. But as the night continued, the distance between you only seemed to grow. When you tried to brush your hand against his, he pulled it away, a small frown on his face. When you tried to rest your head on his shoulder again, he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your touch with a small sigh.

It was as if you were a stranger to him, someone he couldn’t stand to be close to.

Your heart dropped. It was a feeling you never expected to have with him, the type of coldness that made you question everything, including the entire foundation of your relationship. You had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the way he was treating you now felt so different from the Jeongin you had fell for.

You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and prevent yourself from entirely disintegrating. The quiet hum of the talk in the living room followed you as you walked back, the members' voices merging into the background as your thoughts occupied you.

Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he was embarrassed by you, by your clinginess. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as the guy who couldn’t control his girlfriend. Maybe you were being too needy, too dependent, and he just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he had changed, and you were the one who had failed to notice.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the tightness in your chest. When you returned to the living room, you tried to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. But the look on Jeongin’s face when you came back made your stomach twist even further. He didn’t smile at you like he usually did. He didn’t reach for you. He just sat there, a distance between you that felt like an ocean.

You sat down again, feeling smaller than you had with him before. You did not want to confront him in front of the other members. Not when things were going so well. You didn't want to ruin the evening or make things uncomfortable for everyone. But the awkwardness was already there. It seemed like a thick cloud suffocating you, and you knew he felt the same way.

Eventually, the evening came to an end. The group began saying their goodbyes, laughing and conversing, although their voices were scarcely audible. You were too consumed by the subtle tension between you and Jeongin, who hadn't spoken anything to you since your previous conversation. You gently grabbed your stuff, not quite meeting his eyes.

When you reached the door, Jeongin still hadn’t moved. He was standing by the couch, talking to one of the members, completely ignoring you. It wasn’t how you thought it would go. This wasn’t how you imagined the night would end.

It wasn’t until you were halfway out the door that he finally spoke, his voice distant, flat. "You okay?" he asked, as if the tension between you hadn’t been there all evening.

You stood frozen, looking back at him, your chest tight. You wanted to say so many things. You wanted to ask why he was acting this way, to demand an explanation, to tell him how hurt you were by the way he had dismissed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice quiet, strained. "I’m fine."

And then you stepped out, leaving the apartment behind, the discomfort and uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick cloud. You had no idea what had happened or what had caused this abrupt change, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something in your relationship had just broken. Something that might not be fixable.

And as the door clicked shut behind you, you weren't sure if Jeongin noticed.

//

(proofread ❌)

masterlist

[simpleparoxysm]

#oisuga || seijoh koushi , jealousy , slight iwaoisuga

koushi knows oikawa tooru has a large fanbase. the captain often goes missing before their games, getting barred by overly enthusiastic fangirls before he even gets into the gym. they give him chocolates, gifts, and practically anything they could. koushi doesn’t mind it, not at all.

“suga-san, your face is scaring the first years.”

hajime gently knocks his shoulder against his, effectively bringing koushi back from his thoughts. he glances in the direction of kindaichi. the kid glances back at him nervously before going back to warming up with kunimi. koushi rubs a palm against his face.

“i’m alright, iwa-san.”

and he is, for the most part. it usually doesn't bother him that tooru gets this much attention from adoring fans, but lately it’s been a struggle to contain the ugly green creature within his chest. he doesn't have any shortage of fans either, but it's different when it's tooru.

the captain finally shows up, looking a little too smug for koushi’s taste. he sidles up beside koushi like he hasn't been catering to his adoring fans just minutes ago.

“kou-chan!”

“oikawa-san.”

koushi can feel the team’s eyes on him. tooru blinks.

“oooh, oikawa’s in trouble,” issei whispers a little too loudly to makki, who only nods sagely. hajime sighs and goes back to warming up.

“kou-chan, what did i do?” tooru pouts as he follows him to retrieve a ball. koushi glances at him, spots a little red spot on tooru’s cheek, smudged like there's an effort to rub it off.

koushi flashes him an eerily serene smile. “nothing. don't worry about it.”

the referee whistles and signals that the match’s about to start. koushi’s aware how his mood affects the team. he chooses to focus on the game instead, ignore his feelings for the meantime, shouting encouragements whenever needed and ignoring tooru when he can.

they win in straight sets without acknowledging the tension between their two setters.

koushi moves ahead of the team, skillfully avoiding tooru’s attempts to talk to him. hajime has been trailing behind him and he knows that when hajime’s around, tooru will be following sooner or later.

“you’re avoiding oikawa.”

“good observation, iwa-san,” koushi hums. hajime sighs and whacks the back of his head firmly. “ow!”

“you’re being stupid.”

“/i’m/ being stupid? tooru’s being stupid!” koushi pouts and glares at hajime. the ace raises an eyebrow at him.

“he likes you, shittywara. he may be an asshole, but he likes you more than he likes his fans.”

koushi knows this. but he’s only human, he can’t stop himself from being jealous. especially when it’s obvious some fans are getting a little /too/ close.

he sighs. “i’ll talk to him when we get back.”

they eat a victory dinner before it’s time to go home. koushi lets tooru lace his fingers through his and though he’s still a little bit upset, he doesn’t stop tooru from kissing his cheek.

“what’s got mr. refreshing all pouty today?”

koushi raises an eyebrow at him, but can’t deny the pouting. he turns away instead.

“i saw the lipstick.”

tooru makes a small noise. he tries to mask it with a shaky laugh, but koushi knows what it meant. “i swear i didn’t kiss anyone, kou-chan!”

“i didn’t say you kissed anyone.” koushi’s lips slip into a small smirk when tooru realizes his mistake.

“i really didn’t! one of them asked me to lean down ‘cause they were going to whisper something but they kissed my cheek!”

“so you let them kiss you!” koushi accuses.

“kou-chan, i swear i really didn’t!” tooru whines. koushi has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. tooru’s cute when he gets whiny. “i’d rather kiss you than kiss anyone!”

“even hajime?”

“kou-chan…”

koushi laughs, leaning close and pressing a kiss against tooru’s cheek. “don’t worry, i believe you. but next time…”

“there will be no next time!” tooru cuts him off, bringing their entwined hands up against his lips. “you’re still coming over, right?”

“mhmm. let me borrow a shirt?”

The next morning, koushi updates his instagram with a picture of him wearing his captain’s jersey. the caption says ‘yahoo~’ like he’s reminding people he exist. and maybe he is.

🌱🌱

Seijoh! Koushi

[insidekatmind]

Bet in Madrid pt.3~Jude Bellingham

Pt.2

Plot: While on holiday in Madrid with your friends, you notice Jude Bellingham, Vinícius Jr, Rodrygo and Mbappé in a bar. Your friends challenge you: you have to ask Jude for a kiss, or you will pay for dinner.

You stare at Jude for a moment, evaluating his words. His smile is confident, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, as if he’s waiting to truly understand who you are and how far you’re willing to go. You set your glass down on the counter, tilting your head slightly.

“That depends,” you whisper, your voice seductive. “If this place is really as interesting as you say.”

Jude smirks, clearly pleased with your response. He straightens slightly, slipping one hand into his pocket while the other rests casually on the counter. “I won’t disappoint you, doll. Promise.”

“Oh, really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you always keep your promises, Jude.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’m not the kind of guy who leaves things unfinished, trust me. Shall we go?”

You slide off the stool, grabbing your purse and shooting him a quick glance. “Lead the way, then.”

Jude steps back, motioning for you to follow. He guides you out of the bar, where the night air is cool and speckled with the city’s lights. He turns toward you as you walk, his stride confident yet unhurried. “So, doll, where are you from? I get the feeling you’re not from around here.”

“What makes you think that?” you reply, smiling with a hint of challenge.

“The way you carry yourself, the way you talk,” he says, casting a sideways glance at you. “You don’t seem like someone who gets lost in places like this.”

You chuckle softly, appreciating his attempt to read you. “Maybe you don’t know me well enough to say that.”

Jude grins, slowing his pace. “You’re right. And that’s exactly why I want to get to know you better.”

You both stop in front of an elegantly parked car along the curb. He opens the door for you, a gesture that seems effortless for him. “Don’t worry, it’s not far,” he says, noticing your curious glance.

You settle into the seat, and Jude closes the door behind you, walking around to get into the driver’s side. As he starts the engine, a faint smile plays on his lips. “If I disappoint you, I promise I’ll bring you back here immediately.”

“I hope you live up to the expectations, Jude,” you reply, holding his gaze with an intriguing smile.

The drive is short, and soon you find yourselves in front of a small lounge bar illuminated by soft lights. There’s no crowd, just an intimate atmosphere that seems tailor-made for personal conversations.

“Here we are. This is one of my favorite spots,” Jude says, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, and you pick a secluded corner. The music is soft, almost a whisper, and the warm lighting accentuates his features in a way that’s hard to ignore.

“So,” he begins, leaning against the table, his eyes studying you closely. “Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else here could ever guess.”

You smile at him, tilting your head. “What kind of question is that?”

“One that reveals who you really are,” he answers without hesitation. “And I want to know who you are, doll.”

You bite your lip, considering his request. Maybe, for once, it’s worth taking the risk and letting a small part of your mask fall away.

Jude looks at you carefully, smiling. “So will you answer my question?” he whispers making you smirk

His question takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you just stare back at him, not entirely sure how to respond. “That’s a pretty personal question, don’t you think?”You respond with a smile, trying to maintain a sense of mystery. But his intense stare makes it hard to keep up your guard.

Jude grins slightly at your comment, leaning closer.“Yeah, it is. But that’s the point. I want to get to know you. The real you.”

He reaches for a strand of your hair, gently twirling it around his finger as he looks at you, his gaze intent and curious.

Your heart skips a beat as he touches your hair, the sudden intimacy of the gesture catching you off guard. But you don’t pull away, curious about where this is going.“And you think asking me to reveal something no one else knows is the best way to do that?”

He smiles at your response, moving even closer, his leg brushing against yours under the table. His hand now rests lightly on your arm, the warmth of his touch leaving a pleasant shiver down your spine.“Maybe it’s not the best way, but it’s definitely the most direct. And I like to get straight to the point.”He seems genuinely interested in your answer, his eyes not once faltering from your face.

You take a deep breath, feeling more exposed than you thought you would. His proximity and undivided attention has you on edge, but in a good way. “Fine. But it’s nothing too exciting. Just a silly little childhood dream.”

You pause for a moment, wondering if you should really tell him this. But something about the look in his eyes makes you decide to let your walls down, at least a little bit.

Jude gives you an encouraging smile, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your arm as if to say, ‘go on.’

“A childhood dream? Now you’ve got me curious.”He seems genuinely captivated by your every word, patiently waiting for you to continue.

The feeling of his fingers on your arm makes it hard for you to concentrate, but you do your best to ignore the sensation and focus on your story.“When I was younger, I used to love drawing. I would spend hours sketching and painting, dreaming of becoming an artist. But my parents had other plans, and they convinced me to study something more practical, something that would ‘secure my future.’”

You pause, wondering if you’ve shared enough. But Jude doesn’t look away, waiting for you to continue.

He smiles softly, clearly intrigued by your story. “They wanted you to be safe. Understandable, I guess.”He considers your words for a moment before adding,

“But not everyone has to listen to their parents, doll. Why didn’t you continue drawing anyway? Follow your passion?”

You let out a soft sigh, a bit surprised by his question. It’s something you’ve asked yourself countless times before.“It’s not that easy, you know? They were so convincing, and I was so young. I thought they knew better. And then college happened, and my life took a different path.”You pause, a pang of regret in your voice.

“I still draw sometimes, as a hobby. But I never did pursue it as a career.”

Jude listens intently, his eyes fixed on yours, a mix of understanding and curiosity in his gaze. He seems to mull over your words for a moment before speaking again.“But deep down, I bet you still wish you had, right?”His question isn’t an accusation, just a gentle poke to the part of your heart that still yearns for that long-forgotten dream.

His words hit a nerve, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the truth behind them.“Sometimes, yeah. Late at night, when I can’t sleep, I find myself wondering, what if?”You look down at the table, tracing invisible patterns on the wood as you continue.

“But I guess it’s too late now. I’ve built a life I’m comfortable with, and it’s too late to change it all.”

Jude reaches for your chin, gently guiding your gaze back to his. His touch is soft, almost comforting.“It’s never too late, doll. Never.”He looks at you intently, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and something else – encouragement? Inspiration?

His words ignite a small flame of hope in your heart. But you’re still hesitant, doubtful.

“It’s just a dream, Jude. And dreams rarely come true, right?”You force a weak smile, trying to cover up the fact that his words have struck a deep chord within you.

Jude’s eyes don’t leave yours, his expression serious but still gentle.“That’s where you’re wrong. Dreams do come true, you just have to chase them, fight for them.”He pauses, his fingers still lightly holding your chin, his gaze unwavering. “And if you want something badly enough, no one should stop you from getting it. Not even yourself, doll.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. The sincerity in his voice, the confidence in his tone, it’s all so different from what you’re used to hearing. You feel a flicker of inspiration, a small spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s right.“You make it sound so easy.”You say it lightly, almost jokingly, trying to mask your sudden vulnerability.

Jude chuckles gently, releasing your chin but letting his hand rest lightly on your arm again. “I’m not saying it’s not difficult. But anything worth having, anything worth fighting for, is never easy, right?”His eyes search yours, as if trying to see past the barriers you’ve built around yourself.

You can’t deny the truth in his words. But the practical, logical part of your brain is still struggling against the idea, trying to find ways to shoot it down.“But what if I fail? What if I’m just a bad artist, a lost dream?”The doubt and worry are visible in your eyes, despite your efforts to hide them.

Jude just smiles at your retort, his hand moving down from your arm to rest on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. “Then you fail. And you pick yourself up, dust off, and try again. And again. And again. Until you make it. Or die trying.”His voice is firm, but his eyes are warm, filled with a genuine belief in you that you’re not used to.

You smile nodding "thank you". He returns your smile, his hand still gently resting on your thigh, the touch sending a wave of comfort through your body.

“No need to thank me, doll. Just saying the truth.”He looks at you in silence for a moment, his gaze soft but intense, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts.

Your heart skips a beat under his intense gaze, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. The confidence in his voice, the passion behind his words, it’s all so different from the usual people you interact with. “You sound so sure, so certain,” you murmur, your voice soft and laced with a tinge of awe.

He smiles, a hint of something else lurking in his eyes – pride, perhaps? Or is it satisfaction at having sparked a slight flicker of hope within you? “Because I am. I’ve seen people chase their dreams, and the ones who succeed – they all share one thing. Determination, doll. A will so strong, nothing can break it.”He gently squeezes your thigh again, his touch firm yet reassuring.

you smile and look at him softly, placing your hand on his hand that was resting on your thigh. He watches as you place your hand on his, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then a soft smile as he interlocks your fingers.

“That’s the spirit.”He tightens his grip on your hand, the heat of his skin against yours sending a thrilling shudder down your spine.

The gesture is small, but it feels intensely intimate in the dimly lit room. You can feel your breath quickening as his gaze remains on yours, his eyes now slightly darkened with something you can’t quite place.“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”You try to keep your voice light, but it betrays you, sounding slightly huskier than usual.

His smile widens at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. He moves slightly closer, his hand never leaving yours, now resting on your intertwined fingers laying against your thigh.“Only when it comes to things that matter, doll.”He looks down at your thigh, before looking back up into your eyes, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to handle.

You felt your heart racing and you began to look at him with pure intensity. He seems to visibly react to your stare, his gaze now almost predatory, his grip on your hand tightening subtly, yet enough to make you realize he’s just as affected by this moment as you are.

“Careful there, doll. A look like that can get you into trouble.”His voice is now lower, a hint of huskiness there that sends a pleasant shiver down your back.

[jsooly]

taken in by the sullys (3) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, fifteen years fly by and your family just keeps growing as you fight the stigma of being the clan leaders' human child... aka moments between you and your infant/toddler siblings

(1) / (2)

+ takes place just before atwow! this is a much longer chapter T-T

neteyam

moments before he was to connect with eywa, you sat quietly next to him as jake and neytiri bustled around to prepare for the ceremony

you leaned over the side of his cradle, poking his blue skin. he squirmed before focusing his eyes on you. you could tell he was intrigued — you were different than all the faces he'd seen today.

you lowered your voice, whispering to conceal your conversation from jake and neytiri.

"hey." you nodded to him. "i'm y/n. i'm your big sister. well, not real big sister, but still." you shrugged.

you stepped onto the side of the wooden frame, getting some height over where he lay. "you're pretty big for a baby, you know. you're as big as me already. but that doesn't mean you don't have to listen to me, you know." you wagged a finger in his face.

he tilted his head, and you weren't sure if he was getting any of what you were saying. you continued anyway.

"mom says i'm better than the other na'vi kids my age. i can already hunt and fight. she says i have an unnatural gift." you whispered.

"but..." you sighed, stroking his head softly. "i guess i can teach you, too. and it's okay if you suck. i'll be there to protect you."

neytiri and jake exchanged endeared looks, their backs turned to you and the newborn to give you the privacy you thought you had.

if there was one thing you had to let go of quickly, it was your pride

the clan practically worshipped little neteyam — firstborn son of the fierce neytiri and legendary jake sully? they celebrated for weeks

though young, you were still aware you were different, that you didn't exactly belong among the na'vi... but you didn't mind the dirty looks if it meant staying around your family

plus a new baby brother was more than enough joy to offset the feelings of exclusion

you were fluent in na'vi long before neteyam came along, and you took charge teaching him to speak, walk, even string an bow

perhaps you took charge a little too well

"y/n." jake warned. "put him down."

your brother was only a few months old, yet you were manhandling him as if he'd grown enough to withstand the rough grabbing and pulling.

you were surprisingly strong for a human kid your age (you can thank neytiri for that), allowing you to hold neteyam in your arm with ease.

"no." you said simply.

jake gave you a look. of course you had to enter a rebellious phase right when neteyam was very fragile.

"y/n."

you groaned. "what?"

"don't make me get your mother."

"i'm teaching him."

"he doesn't need to be taught right now, sweetheart." jake said gently, approaching you with caution and attempting to take neteyam off your hands.

"he's just lying around all day!" you rebutted, swerving away from him. the flush of speed made neteyam chirp softly in excitement as he gazed up at you. you smiled at pat his head briskly. "might as well fill the time up with something." you mumbled as you stroked his bald head.

"that's a good idea, but how about something less dangerous?" jake grinned widely, trying to sell his point. he held up a ball and some toy blocks. "huh? come on, what d'you say?"

you gave him an unimpressed look, not bothering to answer him as you swiftly turned around and exited the tent. ignoring the sharp noise of protest from jake behind you, you smiled proudly at your brother and nuzzled into his head.

"you're gonna be a great olo'eyktan one day, brother." you assured him. "but first, we gotta get away from dad and teach you how to walk n' stuff."

he babbled in agreement.

in the year when it was just you and neteyam, you bonded inseparably

he was always behind you, like a puppy chasing a little duck around

there was a time when other clan members were a bit concerned that he was spending more time with you than other na'vi children

"neytiri, listen to reason." one omaticaya woman told her.

neytiri was sharpening weapons with some of the other women, all sitting in a circle in a time where they were supposed to be exchanging stories and dreaming about the future. but some chose to gossip and condemn.

"i am listening, though i would not call it reason." neytiri shot back.

"your son is descended from great lineage. consider having him romp around with his own kind instead of an unwanted child."

neytiri hissed, slamming her arrows down. the other women ducked their heads to avoid her anger. "that child is very much wanted. in a million years, i would not believe i would grow so close to a human child, but it has happened. i chose to stop lying to myself long ago."

the woman scoffed, looking around the circle incredulously. "are you hearing what you are saying? we fought hard to eradicate the sky people from our land and you have one growing among us."

neytiri glared. "once, the great mother brought a sky person into our lives, and look at the good that's come of it. eywa watches over this child in the same way. she is special."

despite neytiri's argument, the other women continued to nudge their kids into neteyam's daily routine

for a week, you barely saw him

you stayed in the hut, like usual, watching them play in the grass outside

you rarely emerged from the safety of your home in fear of the judgmental looks you'd receive—it was fine, until you had a brother to miss.

"why don't you go out there?" jake crouched beside you. "m'sure neteyam would appreciate a familiar face."

you gave him a weird look that clearly said no.

he sighed and brought your head into his side, hugging you tightly. in these moments, he didn't know what to say to you. he had no qualifications for being a father, for shaping a young one's whole life, and it was becoming all the more real to him in this instance.

he was about to speak up when you mumbled, "i know they don't want me here."

jake cursed internally. "they... they just misplace their hatred and anger, baby. that kinda stuff is for adults only. they should know better than to denounce a perfect little angel like you." he smiled, pinching your cheek gently.

silence filled the room once more.

you looked up at him, fighting with feelings of unease you couldn't name. "... you want me here, right?"

jake's heart split in two. he cupped your face firmly, holding your gaze. "y/n. 'course i want you here, baby. you're my first little girl, and i would never give you up, not for anyone. i don't care if our life is a little different because you're around. besides, you've more than proven your ability to hold your own."

his declaration warmed your heart until you felt like there was a furnace of love burning inside you.

"i was once human too, you know. you remember, don't you?" he paused as you nodded. "see? for you and us, it's not about being human or na'vi. it's about being our little girl and us being your parents. that's the type of thing where it doesn't matter what you are. you could be... i dunno."

"a worm?"

he chuckled. "yeah. you could be a worm and i'd still love you to death."

a thud caught both of your attention. neteyam grunted as he propped himself up again.

"huh?" you glanced out the window. the other na'vi kids were still out there. you hopped off the windowsill and rushed to his side, helping him stand. "what are you doing back here? your friends are still outside."

he just made a face of distaste, shaking his head.

"looks like he prefers big sis instead." jake grinned, squeezing your shoulders as he passed by. "you two be safe—y/n, no funny business. and don't think about starting a fire."

he left you two playing as he went to have a word with some clan members.

kiri

since both of you were adopted, you related to kiri in a way. you were determined to make sure she didn't feel different, especially in light of her affinity for eywa and natural things

when you and the others would go out to play, kiri would run off

you'd find her lying on the ground, embracing the earth

"kiri!" you gasp, falling to your knees beside her. you carried lo'ak on your back as neteyam toddled beside you. "you can't just run off like that on your own!"

she sat up in a daze, blinking slowly. the grass around her fell back into a lifeless state but the seeds of eywa still hung around. you gently pushed one from ticking your face.

she looked a bit sheepish, averting her eyes as she stood up to follow you. you frowned and sighed, helping lo'ak off your back. you took her hand and flopped back onto the ground.

"you know what... a couple more minutes couldn't hurt." you groaned as you stretched. you tucked your arms under your head, getting comfortable. kiri smiled and reclined beside you.

in that moment, it was as if all the energy in space aligned and you were plucked from your physical form and woven into the stream and cycle of all the energy and consciousness of pandora.

early on, you knew kiri wasn't a fighter

as in, not a let's ride into battle on the back of an ikran guns blazing type of fighter

you started teaching her about the different herbs, plants, and fruits around pandora

she sucked in everything you taught her like a sponge and soon enough it got to a point where you two were learning together

you entered the tent with a thick book clutched tightly against your chest. "kiri!" you whispered urgently.

she perked up, dashing across the room.

you let the book drop onto the ground with an oof, flipping it open. "look, kiri, it's your ma's journal!" you grinned, showing her dr. augustine's signature. you figured you'd leave out the part how you swiped it from norm and max's lab.

her face brightened at the familiar name, staring at the journal in wonder. she flipped through it, but couldn't recognize any of the text. it was all written in english, with bits of na'vi scattered here and there.

"read to me?" she asked, nudging the journal to you. she snuggled into your side as you read her birth mother's findings and conclusions to her.

jake and neytiri found you two sleeping soundly against each other.

lo'ak

lo'ak was an instigator from day one

literally came out the womb quarrelling with everyone

mo'at let a lengthy exhale escape her lungs. neytiri had just given life to her second son, lo'ak, and the boy just would not stop crying. despite all her years as a mother and tsahik, nothing she did soothed her youngest grandson.

"is he hungry?" jake offered, earning dark glares from both his wife and mother in law.

"jake."

"don't you think we tried that?"

he shrunk away, holding neteyam in his arms. he leaned against the wall beside you, giving you a shrug that said hey, i tried.

you pursed your lips, a paradoxical mix of concern and annoyance bubbling up inside of you at lo'ak's wailing. you stood, ducking under mo'at's arm and climbed onto the side of neytiri's bed. she was still talking to mo'at while rocking lo'ak in her arms.

you studied him as he cried, your patience declining by the second. with a sharp but gentle tug to his neural braid, you directed his attention to you. "what are you so upset about, lo'ak? you literally just got here." you whispered urgently.

almost surprised, his cries died down to hiccups and whimpers. you sat back as the adults in the room peered over the newborn.

"ahhh, there he is. poor baby, it's alright." mo'at smiled, stroking lo'ak's head gently. neytiri cooed softly, kissing his bald head repeatedly.

lo'ak found you very cute, though, and was extra gentle when playing with you

you were 11, and neteyam just turned 7, and both kiri and lo'ak were 6 (kiri just a couple months older than lo'ak)

so you had a whole litter of hyperactive kids

you were an overworked big sister lol

and lo'ak was a middle child through and through — with neteyam being the eldest and kiri being a special case, lo'ak didn't get a lot of chances to stand out

thus starting a rebellious streak

but he always got a loooot of love and attention from you

"these are the ones you want, lo'ak?" you hummed. you swirled the bowl around, watching the beads roll at the bottom. "i like the blue."

he fell into your lap with a grumble, his back to you. you just snickered. "what'd you get grounded for this time?"

he scoffed and crossed his arms. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay." you pat his shoulder before taking out his old braids.

a beat passed.

"all i did was follow neteyam outside. so what if i tried to use his bow?" he complained.

you smiled as he ranted—it was like clockwork.

"it's not like he tried to stop me, either. i didn't even come that close to hurting anything. my aim was off." he complained. "besides, weren't you doing stuff like that when you were younger than i am?"

"yeah," you answered, massaging his scalp. "but i actually sat through all my lessons."

he scoffed, stewing in silence.

you softened. "sorry. don't want a lecture, huh?" you continued to do his hair, and slipping in the beads he wanted.

"next time, you and i should go together." he muttered. "i'm done hanging around little mr. perfect."

"bold words from the kid who looks up to little mr. perfect." you gave him a knowing look and he huffed, avoiding your gaze.

you pat his head and made little jazz hands. "tadaaa. all done!"

he didn't move from your lap.

"lo'ak, i'm done—"

"i know." he muttered softly. you understood what he needed. you laughed and hugged him tightly. he wasn't so little anymore—none of them were. your laughter was infectious and he started to smile, too.

"house arrest isn't that bad. you can hang out with me while the others gotta train with mom and dad." you said, self-satisfied.

he smiled, rolling his eyes. "i guess."

you stood, rifling through your trunk of stuff. "maybe bow and arrows aren't your thing. wanna try a gun instead?" you held one up.

lo'ak's ears stood up, his eyes wide. "y/n!" he exclaimed, looking around as he lowered his voice. "how do you even have that?!"

"dad taught me." you grinned, swiftly removing the bullets. can't be too safe. "just don't tell anyone, okay?"

he matched your grin, nodding fervently. he ran to your side and eagerly watched your demonstrations.

tuk

for 7 years, it was just you, neteyam, kiri, and lo'ak. then all of a sudden, neytiri and jake announced they had another on the way

everyone was excited of course, and the debate on whether it was going to be a boy or girl was lively

you, personally, hoped for a baby sister

you had two baby brothers already! and they were handfuls.

when tuk finally came, lo'ak and kiri were 7, neteyam was 8, and you were 12

she learned to walk and speak faster to keep up with everyone

this set the precedent for how she hangs out with each other too

"tuk." lo'ak groaned, stopping to wait for the youngest sully. "you were the one who said you could keep up."

"i can!" she whined, clumsily hopping across the small gap between branches.

lo'ak rolled his eyes, walking off to join neteyam in the front. kiri was off... somewhere, connecting with the energy of everything probably.

you shook your head at your brother's behavior. you offered your hand to tuk, pulling her up onto the branch.

"they're so mean to me," she fussed. "they never wait for me."

"i know, tuk. give yourself a year or two and you'll be as fast as them in no time."

she grumbled, strolling alongside you. "you're smaller than i am. how do you keep up with them?"

you blew a raspberry. "lots of practice."

she started skipping, the branch teetering under her steps. "i just wanna hang out with them."

"they don't do anything cool anyway," you whisper to her conspiratorially. "it's all about shooting arrows and training these days. come on," you held out your hand. "i got something better for us."

she beamed and slotted her hand in yours. you both ran off together, all giggles and whoops of excitement.

you got to the end of the path, leaping off the branch and into the waterhole below.

she screamed, coming to a halt at the edge of the branch. "it's too high!"

you surfaced, wading onto shore. "don't worry, tuk, it's deep enough to break your fall!"

"i'll miss the water!"

"trust me!" you yell up to her. she made a brief sound of protest before stepping back. screwing her eyes shut, she ran with all her might and jumped off. she screamed all the way down.

you laughed at her, blocking your face from the splash. she surfaced with a gasp, laughing brightly.

"i did it!"

the early years were the easiest. but once the sky people returned, everything was different.

!! from now on, i'm gonna make alternating parts—one storyline following the events of atwow and the other just a compilation of fluff/comfort scenarios. for example, the next part is gonna be plot based and then the following part is just gonna be silly goofy moments. and it'd keep alternating til the atwow plot is done !!

thanks for reading!!

taglist : @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce (for some reason you couldn't be tagged, i'm sorry!!)

© jsooly ‘25

[echantedtoon]

Unforseen Part 1

Your entire town was haunted, that's why barely anyone lived in the district and those whom did rarely left their homes unless it was absolutely necessary. You never believed in spirits until you started encountering them outside your home and one in particular kept following you around. 

(Homicipher au where the Ghost Apartment residents are spirits haunting a town and Y/n isn't a killer. Will include stuff not cannon to the game. Including none cannon guesses to some of the characters backstories.

Warnings for blood, death mentioned, and reader cutting her hand on a rock by accident.)

Have you ever heard of the phrase 'if its too good to be true then it probably isn't'?

That phrase exists because often when something does sound too good to be true it almost always is the case. However sometimes we had to learn that important life lesson the hard way, and you were one of those people who learnt first had you shouldn't take everything at face value while also never taking anything for granted. 

Even now as you attempted to ignore the figure peeping over the other side of your desk, dark hair cascading from a pale grey head without any eyes to be seen. The figure being only barely lit up by the light of your laptop as you attempted to do some online courses and not pay attention to the curious figure that blended into the shadows perfectly. 

Key word being tried because of the fact you couldn't ignore him when a hand curious reached out across the desk and snatched away your mouse quickly vanishing back into the darkness before your hand could stop him. Instead your hand smacked down onto the hardwood with a thud.

"Hey!" F/c orbs glared harshly into the darkness beyond the lit screen. "Give that back!"

"HEHEHEHE!!" A high pitched laughter was your only playful response from the blackness.

A sigh escaped your lips. It wasn't always like this. It had only started when you had moved to this quiet town in the middle of nowhere. You needed a place to stay after rent had gotten too high and your ex roommates decided to bail on you without a warning. So facing homelessness and struggling with money, you did what anyone in your shoes did. Look online for the cheapest place you could find. Your desperate search for any cheap apartments, anyone who was renting a room, ANYTHING! That's when you came across what seemed to be a miracle.

A small house in a town you never heard of just a few miles away from where you currently worked. It was a cheap house. For what you were renting the apartment for two years you could pay and completely own your own house fully. Something like that was like a god send, but you were HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS. This had to be a trick. A scam. There's no way that anyone would sell a house this cheap without it being a scam of some kind. There just HAD to be a catch. But you were very desperate, and you decided to contact the number listed for the real estate agent. What the heck? There was no harm in talking to the guy and checking out the place. At worst it'd just be another dead end. 

The man seemed very professional over the phone and answered all your questions politely just like the realtor that you rented your old apartment from. So really there wasn't any red flags then. You took that as a go ahead to set a date for a walkthrough of the house and see if you really wanted to go through with the purchase however... Something still didn't seem quite right. You looked up the realtor's name and found him to be a legit business man in that profession so it wasn't likely it was a scam but the off feeling didn't go away so you opted to bring along your dad on the day in question to go see the house.

"Gosh. The place sure is in the middle of nowhere isn't it?"

That was your dad's first comment about the area you were in. Following the location given to you leading you to a whole town in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by thick woods and old roads. Perhaps that was the second red flag seeing an entire town so empty. So.. abandoned like this. It doesn't make much sense. Maybe this was a scam trying to sell old houses in the middle of nowhere. You felt better having brought along your father but still something felt off. Eventually you found the house, and the realtor man waiting for you on the porch in front of said house. Everything seemed normal. He greeted you both, shook your hands, and after a few icebreaker sentences asked if you'd like to look at the inside of the house.

From the outside it looked completely normal. Maybe a bit run down and old and the lawn needed some mowing, but nothing that screamed red flags. The guy was as normal, polite, and professional as he had been on the phone as he walked both yourself and your dad throughout the house and spoke about when it was built, how long the last owners had lived there, and the few repairs made to it. Both of you went through the usual testing the lights, and turning on the kitchen sink to check the running water. Everything seemed to be working. By the cheap price you were expecting to find a real fixer upper here. 

"Doesn't anyone else live in this town?," you eventually asked the man curiosity finally getting the better of you.

"Oh yes. Mostly older folks and their carers but there's two of three families too and some caretakers for the houses until they can be sold," he confirmed.

"Then why does it look like the entire town is empty."

It was finally then that the realtor looked worried about something. "Well a lot of people prefer to live closer to the nearest town with active businesses, but I will be honest. Most people pass over here because of the rumors surrounding the area."

"Rumors?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that many people seem to believe that the town and surrounding woods are haunted. I don't believe that of course but superstition can scare away a lot of people."

Ah. So that was the entire reason why the house was dirty cheap. No one in their right mind would want to buy a haunted house in the middle of no where miles from the nearest town with any stores. That'd be pretty inconvenient for a lot of people but desperation and fear of homelessness was a powerful factor in your decision to make the purchase, signing on the papers and moving everything you owned with your parents' help into your new house. And everything seemed to be perfectly fine the first few weeks. 

They mostly consisted of you cleaning out your house and fixing up the lawn to get things in order. Moving your furniture around for for own needs. Fixing up an Internet connection for online classes. Things such as that. It really wasn't very exciting but nothing bothered you.

But something still felt off about the silence.

It wasn't the peaceful nature silence that you would experience on nature hikes or drives through the country, it was more of the creepy silence you'd seen in way too many horror movies when all the animals went silent when the monster was getting closer and closer. Even though you saw nothing wrong with anything. The unusual silence was creepy as was the unusual emptiness of the town but you concluded it was still better than being homeless. For a roof over your head with working water and electricity, you'd put up with the silence for now. Besides you could always move again once you graduated college and saved up enough money to move again.

However you did encounter one of the locals at last. The only working store just outside of town, mostly used as a pitstop by others just driving through but sometimes you'd stop for snacks before making the hours long run to the next town over for groceries. He was an odd older man whom looked the same age as your grandfather. He eyed you from the window before you made your way inside and began digging in your pockets for your credit card to pay for gas. 

"Just gas?" He grunted out.

You nodded pulling out the card. "Yep. Just gas."

"Good. It's not a good idea to stay in this area after dark." He just watched you swipe your card. "Take my advice and don't stop until you reach the next town over."

"Oh. I'm not passing through, I live here," you clarified making him raise a brow, "I just moved in a few weeks ago."

He grunted. "Then they decided to not make themselves known to you yet. Or they haven't noticed that fresh prey came right in."

You looked at him blinking. "Excuse me?"

"The spirits of course!", he clarified with narrowed eyes, leaning forward to make you lean back. "They roam these parts you know."

"Uh .So I heard."

"You don't believe me." He scoffed rolling his eyes. "The non-believers are always the first ones to go first. The fact you hadn't seen them yet means you're either lucky or they're planning on doing something big for you."

"Uh..." You weren't sure what to say to that but leaned back when he leaned over the register beckoning you to come forward.

"Let me give you some advice for how to survive around here. There's certain rules to follow if you want to avoid trouble. Firstly, never go out after dark. That's when they're most active but they can still come out during the day as well so keep your eyes open at all times too. However if you must go out at night then make it brief and always keep at least one light on. They absolutely love the dark."

You took a step back to avoid the way he was almost in your face however that didn't stop him from holding up his hand with two fingers.

"Don't look them directly in the eyes and ignore them all times if you absolutely can. If you initiate contact then they'll take that as an invitation to continue contact." A third finger. "There's a lot of them around here but most of them are harmless and just long lost spirits still roaming around such as that poor Bride of the man who was in the bad fires years ago. However there's quite a few of them that's quite dangerous."

"Danger..ous?"

He slowly nodded. "Yep! The first ones that come to mind is that one that looks crazy and carries around the giant machete. Cross him the wrong way and you might join the spirits but he usually wonders the woods and doesn't come into town too often so I wouldn't worry too much about him. It's Scartella that I'm more worried about."

"Scarletella??" You were very confused as he nodded. "Who's he?"

"He gets his name from the bright red clothes and hair he sports, and the rather unusual red umbrella he always seems to carry around. He only shows up when it rains but by fair he's the most deadly. If he approaches you and ask for your name do not under any circumstances answer him! He'll steal your soul away!"

"Uh...right." This guy was crazy and watched way too many horror movies! Slowly you tucked your card back into your pocket since it was paid. "I'm going to go now-"

"Then there's the fellow who just likes to creep in gaps and crevices and ask for organs. He's completely harmless after all as long as you say no. He'll pout but he'll leave you be. Then there's the fellow who's always helping that disembodied head. He's mostly harmless but has taken some corpses for his morbid research. Just don't try harming the head and he'll be ok with you-"

"I best be going!", you proclaimed loudly before turning on your heel and walking towards the door. "Thanks for the gas but I REALLY better get going." And get away from this crazy guy.

"Don't say that I didn't warn you!", you heard him call after you as the bell chimed above the door.

You didn't look back. Just got into your car and drove all the way home feeling your hair stand on end from the creepy encounter. That was definitely spooky but you chose to ignore it in favor of getting home. Out of curiosity you decided to look up the area on Guggle just to see what would pop up and was surprised to find so many urban legends surrounding the area. There was TONS of them. From the tragic tale of a bride dying on her wedding day long ago to someone being executed by having their head chopped off to even sightings of a strange person in a wheelchair said to have been a patient whom died in a hospital that once stood here. 

However you didn't find any legitimate records anywhere to back up these legends. The only confirmed death registered for this area was a camper who got lost in the woods and was later found deceased from a tree having fallen and crushing him and that was two years ago. There wasn't any urban legends of a deceased camper around to add to the mix. After scrolling through the pages and pages of legends you called it quits convinced they were nothing but what they were.

Just urban legends without any truth to back them up.

That all would change one fateful night. You had driven hours to the nearby town to shop and visit family, so you got home late. Everything was fine. The sun had just set as you stepped out of your car bag of groceries in one hand and house keys in the other as you approached the front door. Nothing but silence was all the streets offered you as you fiddled with the lock and letting the door creak open a bit as you went to go put the key back into your pocket-

"Give finger?"

You snapped up at the sudden voice only to find a face in the gap of the door staring at you-

You screamed bloody murder. You screech echoing out through the streets and the bag falling from your hands. Bread and apples went thudding along the porch as you turned to run back to your car in a panic. The sounds of a car door slamming behind you echoed down the streets as you fumbled with the keys to your car. The rippling sounds of a revving engine and screeching tires was the only things left behind in the darkness. You didn't stop out of fear until you got to the little gas station where you fumbled with shaking hands to call the police.

"Hello? Police! I need help! Someone broke into my house!"

I took hours for a squad car to get to where you were at which point you gave a statement before leading them back to your house. The door was still slightly sharp and your groceries were still scattered about the porch where they were dropped. You stayed right across the street watching with shaking hands as they entered your home and lights turned on as you saw their figures watching through your home. After a while they came back out without anyone in cuffs. 

"There's no signs of anyone being inside the home, and no forcibly entry."

"But there WAS something there! I saw him in the doorway!!"

No matter what you said the police had nothing else and left leaving you standing there in the streets in front of your house. You couldn't get yourself to go inside opting to sleep in your locked car that night before going on the next morning with a tire iron from the trunk in search of the guy you saw checking every closet, under your bed, and even in the kitchen cabinets but found no one. It was both relieving and weirded you out. 

You know you saw someone last night! He was right there! Was it just a hallucination? You had been pretty swamped with work and homework so maybe all the lack of sleep combined with hearing those ghost stories all the time we're starting to get to you. Yeah. That must've been it.

You would've just been satisfied to go on with pretending to have never seen him before if it wasn't the last time you had a paranormal encounter with a spirit. The second encounter you had was with a weird ghost that looked like a bloodied nurse. It was when you were outside really early one morning. You had gotten some flower seeds and wanted to make your house look less creepy by planting some flowers near it, however first you had to clear away some rocks where you wanted to plant them. It'd take a while to make a flower bed so you wanted to get started early. The sun was barely starting to come up when you started moving some of the rocks when you grabbed one and a moment later you were dropping it in pain.

"Ow!" Instinctively balling your hand into a fist and clutching it to your chest, you hissed in pain. Slowly you unclenched your hand to take a look at the cut upon your palm. "You gotta be kidding me. Well that's just great." A sizable cut was across your palm from the jagged edges of a rock and even in the dim light you could tell it was bleeding. "Ow, own, own. That hurts."

"Your hand?" 

You jumped at the feminine sounding voice next to you and when you turned...You froze. 

What you were met with was a woman covered in blood.

Or you assumed it had been a woman by the sound of the voice and the fact she wore a nurse's gown along with a hair net and medical mask. However you only froze meeting the black void like orbs that was in the place of eyes and the fact her entire outfit was covered in copper colored stains.

"Your hand?" She repeated holding up her own hands "injured? Sick?"

You couldn't say anything. Too frozen to speak or do anything as she produced a roll of bandages from no where and a few seconds later your entire hand was wrapped up. 

"Heal! Fix!", she exclaimed loudly satisfied with the care she gave before turning to walk away.

She walked across the lawn slowly disappearing into thin air and vanishing as if she had never existed as the sun slowly rose higher and higher. You stayed standing there frozen until the warmth of the sunlight made you flinch and finally move around.  You couldn't write it off as a freak hallucination from stress and lack of sleep this time. Perhaps if there was no proof of her ever being there you could've done that but there was NO way you could logically explain why your entire hand was wrapped up in old gauze. But BOY you tried! Tried to convince your terrified self that you were imagining things and you had wrapped up your own hand without remembering...

Yeah. That didn't work.

You couldn't step out of your house for a good while too afraid of what else you might witness and your lights were kept on nearly every night but that didn't stop the random hauntings you'd witness. One day you went out during the day a pair of muddy footsteps just walked down the sidewalk appeared on the ground next to you. You jumped back and watched in disbelief as they zoomed down the sidewalk and disappeared around the corner leaving behind muddy footsteps in plain daylight for anyone to see.

Another time you were just in the kitchen and you peered out of the window to look out only to scream and scramble back as a sheep's head popped up from under the windowsill. The child like entity giggled at their mischief before running away completely disappearing. Sometimes you didn't hear them at all but caught a glimpse of something peeking out at you from time to time from a crack in the doorway or an open drawer and one time under your bed. It might've been the same entity you saw the first time these things started and you started the habit of keeping everything closed. Sometimes you saw legitimate ghosts like out of the movies floating about randomly and one ghost stereotypically under a sheet dragging along the ground down the road.

It all was eventually too much and you decided now would be the perfect time to go stay with your parents for a long, long while. Packing just a suitcase, you got in your car and just drove out of town. Stopping only by the old gas station just outside of town to get gas for the long drive and maybe some snacks. The old man from before of course was there and the first thing he did seeing your frazzled frame was to throw his head back and howl in laughter!

"So I see they finally decided to come out to you, Young Lady! Tell me do you believe in the supernatural now?," he asked between laughs.

You only managed a deadpanned tired look. "Leave me alone. I just want some gas."

"Who was it? Mr. Gap?," he asked ignoring your words genuinely interested. "He's always usually the first one to show up and he's the most frequent fellow."

"Mr...What?"

"Mr. Gap," he repeated, "That's what locals around here call him because of the fact he appears whenever there's gaps between things. Almost every spook here has a nickname like it since no one knows their true names. Which ones did you see?" He sat back arms crossed amused eminencly. "I'll probably be able to tell you their names."

You weren't sure how to feel, what to think, or what to say...but you couldn't tell someone that you were seeing ghosts. Your family and everyone else would think you're crazy! Maybe you were but you were sane enough to know that you weren't seeing things and at least this man knew who you were talking about and believed in them..So you told him the few entities you've been seeing.

"That's Mr. Gap alright." He nodded along with your story. "Oh. So you met Ms. Nurse. She's helpful when she wants to be." He laughed again. "Hooded Child is always playing tricks on people." And then the ghosts- "Mr. Cloth is the only ghost I know of that wears a sheet over him."

"What do I do to make them stop?"

"Stop? This whole place was theirs way before you and I came along young lady! If anything you're trespassing on their home. They won't stop living how they've always lived, that's like telling a bird to stop chirping or a flower to not smell nice. They're not going to do it just because you find it inconvenient. I'm sure if you were a ghost you'd certainly be annoyed by people acting that way towards you."

"I wouldn't be haunting people and scaring the living daylights out of them!" You shook your head. "Can I just buy gas please?" 

He shrugged. "Sure. Just don't say that I didn't tell you so."

You bought the gas and filled up your car quickly and got back in. Only when you tried to turn it on...Nothing happened. You kept turning the key but nothing kept happening. Until you defeated got out of your car and slunk back into the station to the old man's surprise.

"Back already?"

"There's something wrong with my engine. C-Can you help me?"

"Sure! I've worked on cars before." He got up and you both went out to take a look under the hood. You watched as he hummed and fiddled around with a few things before looking at you. "How old is this car?"

You shrugged. "I-I don't know. It's preowned." You couldn't afford a new car on your college kid budget.

"Well that might be your problem." He closed the hood with a loud THUD. "The battery's dead."

You stared at him gobsmacked. "WHAT?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET BACK?...Can you drive me?"

He shook his head. "I live in the connecting house and I own no car. Never needed one. The nearest mechanic is in the town over and they wouldn't be here until morning. You can either sleep in your car for the night or your welcome to sleep inside but you'd have to sleep on the floor."

"No thank you." No WAY you were staying with a stranger or sleeping in your car in the middle of nowhere. Looking up you noticed that the sign was only barely in the middle of the sky, that meant it was just almost noon. "If I start back now, I can probably make it back home before dark."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "Positive." You stepped back to walk back down the road where you came from. "I'll be fine. They don't show up a lot during the day anyways."

The older man hummed. "Alright but you be careful on your way back. Sometimes the woods can be more dangerous than the town."

***********

[mybworlds]

Alive

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempt, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, another SA in the present days, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

Extra warnings for this chapter: spoilers about the second season and an important event that characterizes TLOU2.

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

You avoid Joel.

You know he had nothing to do with what you lived again, he helped you, made you tea, prepared food, tucked you in.

You know he had nothing to do with it. You've been telling yourself this for days and days, but you still can't leave your room.

Yet, you stand looking out the window all day, you're scared.

Again.

The snow continues to fall heavily and covers the ground around the house.

You are back to observing the city and its inhabitants from afar. You feel like an intruder again to everything that happens around you.

Joel knocks on your door twice. It's a conventional sign that Joel has adopted to tell you that he's brought you something hot to eat.

It seems like he cares about you, but you know he doesn't. He told you so clearly that he doesn't care about you.

You turn towards the door and you go to open the door. When you open it there’s Joel only.

His look is unreadable.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he reconsiders.

You stay like this. Motionless, one hand on the doorknob and the other at your side.

His hazel eyes bore into your. You gulp.

Then, he seems to regain a hint of control, "Um, I'm about to go on patrol, you have to come." he says hastily.

You swallow, "I have to?"

He nods, "Yeah. Are you coming?"

You sigh, "What about Jesse? Tommy? Vasquez?"

"I need ya." he replies, but shortly after saying it he realizes the manner and words chosen. He clears his throat, "So?" he asks you impatiently "Will you come?"

You sigh, “Okay.”

Joel nods before to walk away, you hear him go downstairs, while you stare at where Joel was standing a moment before, he's so weird.

You shake your head, deciding to ignore everything and focus on the patrol. You put on your scarf, gloves, hat, snow boots and jacket and head down. You take your bow and arrows and you reach him.

The door of the house is open and Joel is there in front: his hands on his hips and his gaze turned outwards, his rifle askew.

"Ready." you say alongside him.

He turns to you, looks at you, you lower your gaze and look outwards, then back at him "Shall we go?" you ask him.

He nods with a poorly concealed smile.

When you leave the house, you reach the horses and Joel asks you "Do you wanna help?"

"No, I'll handle it myself." you respond by mounting your steed.

You tighten the reins, observing the horse's mane, feeling a vice in the pit of your stomach. You know he's just trying to make you understand that he's there, but you don't want to be treated differently. You would feel even worse.

You join the others in silence, "Hey," someone greets you, others give you a look full of compassion that makes you look down. You don't want to be treated like a victim. You couldn't stand it.

Jesse places a hand on your back getting your attention, “It's going to be okay.” you nod with a small smile, then he says “Okay, this time Joel, you and Tommy are going to the valley. Stone and Clark towards the mountains, you and me instead" he says turning his gaze towards you "in the woods."

You nod as Joel approaches you.

"Jesse, I thought she and I could go together," you first look at Joel dumbfounded, then you and Jesse exchange looks.

"Um, Joel, you know that area so well and so does Tommy. It's for the best. We'll meet back to the radio tower in four hours." he adds, addressing all of you.

Joel looks down, almost looking disappointed.

Jesse walks away and that's when you turn to him, "Joel?" he looks up "I'll be fine." he nods, resting his eyes on yours, "Promise." you add placing a hand on his forearm before to leave.

"What was that?" Tommy asks his brother.

Meanwhile, the two brothers head towards the valley, always keeping an eye on the area around them which is quiet for the moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Joel replies despite having understood exactly what his brother is referring to.

"Don't get vague with me. I recognize that look and I haven't seen it since... before Sarah was born."

Joel sighs, looking left and right. His love life has always been a disaster and even before the birth of his daughter, after his mother left them, he no longer had anyone other than sporadic encounters once or twice, but then he returned to Sarah and she was the only one to whom he had dedicated himself completely.

"I'm serious, Joel," Tommy continues, "if you were to finally start a new life, I'd be happy and I'd give ya all my support."

Joel mutters to himself. You are pretty, sweet, you are fragile even if you do everything to hide it, you are brave, but that's not the point. The point is, he doesn't know if he's really ready to take off that armor and show himself for who he really is. Although he himself has difficulty understanding who he is now, who he has become.

"Think about it." Tommy says.

"There's nothing to think about! I can't stand her!"

Tommy sighs, "If you want to prove that you're a tough one, don't do that. You'll just risk pushing her away." Joel's gaze is blank "If you don't want to get teased about that, it's different!"

"Stop ranting, move!" Joel snaps.

Tommy chuckles shaking his head "Okay, heart of stone, let's move our asses!"

The vegetation is covered by a thick blanket of snow, the horses pass two fallen trees, a fence and the remains of a house. They can only hear the footsteps of their horses in the snow and their breathing. The two siblings look around and apart from a few infected people and a couple of hares they find nothing else.

"There's nothing here. Let's join the others at radio tower." says Joel making the horse turn around.

When the two brothers reach the meeting point, Stone and Clark are already there preparing a fire, Jesse is carrying a bunch of blankets and handing them out to Clark and Stone who are already there.

The Millers get off their horses and approach the others, Joel looks around perplexed, where are you?

"Jesse?" the boy looks up "Where is she?" Joel asks looking around.

"She said she wanted to be alone a little longer," he replies.

“And you did?” Joel continues looking around in hopes of seeing you.

"Joel, relax and then don't crowd her."

"I don't wanna crowd her." he clarifies "It's just..." after everything you had to suffer "she's been through a lot."

“I know,” both Joel and Jesse are silent for a few moments, “that's why you should give her some space and time.”

"I'm just worried that she's alone somewhere. This world is dangerous." Joel continues although he realizes that this excessive concern of his may sound ridiculous.

“You're a good roommate,” Jesse says, patting Joel on the back, “if she's not here in half an hour, I'll go look for her.”

Joel looks around.

No, he'll come after you.

You and Jesse found some canned food, bottles of water, and some wood. You can return to your meeting point.

It reminds you of when you grabbed everything you could just to survive, you remember how scared you were after escaping from the QZ, you remember constantly looking over your shoulder.

You were so afraid.

"All in all, it turned out nice." Jesse comments with a smile.

"Huh? Yep! Yes, indeed." you reply, but you're distracted.

Jesse is silent, as you.

Then you dare to ask him, "What happened to those two guys?"

Jesse doesn't need to know who you're referring to, he knows.

"The next day the council met and they were expelled. They won't be able to hurt you anymore." he tells you in a complacent way.

You nod. So, they're out here. Somewhere. Maybe alive or maybe dead or maybe infected.

You swallow and think if those policemen had listened to you in that QZ, you might not have done what you did, maybe you wouldn't have run away.

Your head is spinning and you're starting to break out in a cold sweat, you feel like your arms and legs are paralyzing, you choke.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks you, coming next to you.

“Mhm, mhm” you moan “You go ahead, I'll catch right up."

"It's not a good idea."

"I insist, go. It's not my first time alone, Jesse. It's okay." you say feeling your breath getting shorter.

Well, actually, it's not.

Jesse tells you something like he's going to start moving forward or something like that before to leave, you feel paralyzed.

You can't breathe or think. You're terrified. The anxiety is growing more and more inside you, it's becoming unbearable. Your heart beats so hard, it feels like it's going to explode in your chest.

You remember that evening when you left the QZ, you remember your only three surviving friends who told you not to leave the quarantine area, but instead you did with a backpack on your shoulder and as many supplies as you could bring with you. You had just killed the man you thought loved you who instead raped you. You're a killer and it doesn't matter why you did it, but that you did.

You didn't even realize you'd fallen off your horse and been submerged in the snow. You breathe hard, you move your eyes left and right, unable to move.

Everything you've ever felt is eating you alive.

What you lived, what you did will never change.

Never.

Never.

Never.

He had to pay for it, but did you have to do it?

You're a murderer.

"Hey, hey, hey," Joel grabs your shoulders making you re-emerge from the snow that had partly covered you and making you sit down "breathe, breathe slowly. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

“I can't breathe,” you tell him in a strangled tone of voice moving your eyes only.

"Yes, you can. C'mon, kiddo." he says positioning himself behind you making you rest your back against his chest "Do you feel my breathing? In and out. In and out."

You're shaking, “Joel,” you say, gripping his jeans in your fists, “I… I…”

"Sssh, sssh, it's okay, even if it doesn't seem like it. Don't worry. Breathe."

You continue to convulsively tighten his trousers, while the nature around you slowly regains shape and color.

"It's okay," he continues, holding your shoulders with a firm grip "In and out, in and out." he's silent for a few moments "I don't know what triggered it, but everything's fine. The past can hurt. But it's not here. Sssh, can you feel it? It's already better." he whispers in your ear touching your shell with his lower lip, "Come on, again."

You close your eyes and you do as he told you and very slowly the grip on his jeans loosens until it's completely loosened.

He doesn't speak, he still holds you in that position, then when he feels that your breathing has returned to normal he loosens his grip.

"How you feel?" he asks in a murmur in your ear.

You nod, “Good.”

"Okay." he says getting up and offering you his hands which you grab and standing up too "Let's go." he adds and together you go to the field.

Evening comes and you and Joel are on watch, secretly observing each other.

You want to ask him why he behaves so differently. He would like to tell you that he knows what haunts you about your past, but he knows that if he did, you might get mad at him. And you wouldn't be wrong.

You are almost next to each other again in front of a broken glass window, it's cold that evening too.

You wrap your arms around yourself, massaging them to warm yourself up a little despite the jacket.

"Cold?" he asks you.

"Freezing." you answer trembling.

He stands up and hands you a blanket that it enveloped him, “No, what about you?” you ask him questioningly.

"I’m fine." he answers you, but his red cheeks and nose tell a whole different story.

"Sure?"

"Yep," he mumbles moving away from you, but staying close to the window.

You visibly relax under that blanket thanking Joel with a look.

"Have you already participated in other patrols of this type?" you ask him curiously.

"Yep."

You nod, staring at the darkness outside, "How did it go with Tommy?" you ask him.

“Good,” he says nodding.

“Um, you and Tommy…” you don’t know if you can ask.

“What?” he asks you, frowning and narrowing his eyes.

“How is your relationship?” he tilts his head to the side “Do you get along?”

"Well, let's say that every time we're together we end up fighting each other."

You look at him, "But you love each other."

"Yes. Well, I guess we have a typical sibling relationship."

"I guess so."

Joel watches you, you are thoughtful. As always. He would like to help you, but he knows that it's impossible.

“Do you have brothers?” Joel asks you, looking at your face. “Or sisters?”

“No, I was an only child.” you take a short pause “But I had a friend who was like a sister.” Joel listens “She was my best friend. We were always together. We were together when it all started,” you tell him, you stop for a moment thinking about her "Joel?" you ask looking up at him finding his eyes already on you “Why?” he cocks his head to the side “Why do you treat me differently? I thought you considered me a burden, or someone to get rid of at the first opportunity."

Joel doesn't answer right away, he looks at you for a long time and when you think he won't answer you, he instead replies "What happened to you affected me a lot."

You tsk, you knew it. Now he feels sorry for you. What you didn't want. You have always hated those words like 'it must have been terrible' or 'poor thing' or those looks with which they make you feel worse and feel a broken piece that needs fixing.

"So, for you too I'm someone to keep under a bell jar, to treat as if it could break at any moment, right?" you retort him.

Joel quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't answer. At least not right away, he observes an unspecified point and then says, "What happened reminded me of how self-destructive mankind is." you stare at him waiting for him to make a comment about you, but he doesn't "I did some horrible things that I'm not proud of. I’d say that I did it to save my ass and the few people I cared about, but deep down I know that I'm not a good one." he tells you by opening up to you for the first time.

You look at him and see him still stare into space. His facial features are tense, you can see him grinding his teeth, "What did you do?" you ask him in a low voice.

Only then does he look at you, "I've seriously injured and killed, stolen, looted corpses, sold contraband, beaten innocents and not ones, I drank until I forgot who I was. The prototype of the good guy, y'know."

You purse your lips, lowering your head and huddling in the blanket.

"You must have done it for a reason," you just say although you ain't convinced by what you say. You don't want to judge him, after all you don't know him and you too have done horrible things to get there.

"You believe?" he tsks before approaching you, you remain still. You gulp and look up at him “What if I only did it out of pure selfishness?” he looks at you “Is this a good reason too?"

“You did it to survive.” you reply quickly "I'm sure of it."

"And you didn't?" You look at him, "Didn't you do it to survive? I mean, whatever you did." he adds looking you in the eye.

You lower your head, stare at your feet, with those words Joel seems to have sucked the air out of you. You bring the edges of the blanket closer, holding them to your chest. You close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose, then open them again.

"Our stories are different."

He nods "That's not much, but for sure," he comments "but there's the same epilogue, don't you think?"

"If you say so." you reply, looking at the darkness outside.

For a while you stay in silence, the only sound in the background is the chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls, every now and then you hear small movements around you, you make sure that they are only small animals and so nothing to worry about.

Jesse, Tommy, Clark and Stone continue to sleep blissfully.

You know you should keep watch and be vigilant, but your eyes are so heavy. You do everything you can to fight this pressing sleep, but in the end you give in.

You almost feel like you're being pulled upwards as if invisible wings were levitating you in mid-air and you feel so light. For the first time in many years you have a complete head emptied, free from any thought. It's so beautiful. You find yourself smiling in your sleep, how much you wish your life was this warm and soft too.

When you open your eyes, you immediately sit up, fuck, you were supposed to be on guard with Joel and instead you're there wrapped between two very heavy and soft blankets on a couch not too far from your lookout point and you look like an idiot. You cover your eyes in shame, now you've given Joel Miller another excuse to fuck with you. How stupid!

You expect giggles or mocking digs and instead all you find is Tommy drinking what looks like coffee outside the building "Morning," he says hearing you behind him looking at you sideways.

"I'm sorry, I fell asleep," you justify, rubbing your eyes and then looking around, "where’s everyone else?" you ask, looking for other faces nearby.

"Everyone's back except Joel and me." he replies by rubbing his hands to warm up, you are about to ask him where he is, but Tommy precedes you "He heard a noise and he went to check."

"And you let him go alone?!” Tommy looks at you and at that moment the look is identical to Joel's "Relax, ma'am, he's a grown man and he can stand up for himself and then he practically forced me to stay with you." you do your high ponytail again and immediately go inside and grab your bow and arrow, "Hey, where are you going?"

"Looking for him, which direction did he go in?" you ask him, slipping the bow over your shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous! It's imprudent to venture out alone!" Tommy exclaims.

"Your brother is out there and I'm going to see if he's gotten into any trouble, will you come with me or will I go alone?" you reply using a tone that doesn't allow any replies.

Tommy rolls his eyes, "So stubborn!" he whispers shaking his head "Okay, let's go!" he exclaims, taking his rifle and following you.

Maybe you overreacted, but you almost felt a duty to do so. He came looking for you and helped you in a moment of great difficulty.

As you walk following the footprints Joel left in the snow, Tommy says "I have no trouble understanding how you get along with Joel! He can be very stubborn at times too." for a few steps he's silent "You would have gotten along with Ellie too if you had met her as she was a few years ago."

You turn to look at him for a moment, "I actually met her a while ago, she seems like a good kid, even if shy and angry at the world,"

"Not with the world, but with Joel!" Tommy exclaims as you frown and stop looking at him. Tommy has the expression of someone who talked too much and shouldn't have.

"What happened?" you ask him curiously.

"I can't talk about it, Joel would kill me!" He says before starting to walk again.

You raise your eyebrows with a surprised expression, but decide not to investigate. If he wants to talk about it, he will. Or maybe not.

Walking in some places is extremely difficult, it amazes you that Joel made it this far.

"There are footprints that lead in one direction and others in another, what do we do?" you ask uncertainly, clutching your bow.

"You go right and I'll go left," Tommy offers.

"But you said it was dangerous to separate!" you blurt out.

“Do you have a better idea?” he asks, as stupid as it sounds, you shake your head "Good! Then you go right and I'll go left," he reminds you before walking away from you.

You walk slowly hoping not to run into any trap, a light but cold wind picks up and you find yourself shrugging your shoulders and at the same time tightening your grip on your bow. You wonder why you are interested in someone like Joel, a person who did nothing but keep you away and push you away, but at the same time tries to keep you around.

Someone from behind pulls you away an instant before a trap snaps at your feet and you find yourself crushed against this person's chest. His hands hold your shoulders firmly, your coat is gripped tightly in his fists. You turn around only to see who saved you, it's Joel.

His expression is serious and breathless as if he ran to catch you so you don't end up with a broken ankle.

"Joel?!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" he asks sharply, taking his hands away from your coat.

"I came looking for you." you reply and his expression changes from serious to surprise. The expression in his eyes softens although the stern expression on his face has not yet disappeared "Sorry, it was stupid." you add lowering your head before look elsewhere.

"Yeah, it was. If I hadn't been here you could have bled to death or maybe eaten by wolves," you breathe through your nostrils, clutching your bow convulsively, he sighs "Let's go."

Not that you were expecting a thank you actually, but you feel a strange weight in the pit of your stomach as if you'd just been punched. In fact, perhaps receiving it would have hurt less.

It's late morning when the three of you return to Jackson. Maria and Dina welcome you and Tommy warmly, the two only nod to Joel as if he was a monster to be kept away and this different reception makes you feel really bad for him even though he treated you badly before.

You see him out of the corner of your eye, Joel leads the horse into the stable with heavy steps. You swallow, you are about to tell him to join you, when Dina drags you away inviting you to have a drink together to warm up in the freezing temperatures.

That morning, you see Ellie again at Tipsy Bison. She stands in a corner aside, you glance at her fleetingly, having a hard time reconciling what you see with the description Tommy gave you of her. Tommy's words resonate with you, she's mad at Joel.

Why?

You know it's none of your business, but you still wonder what could have happened between them that was so serious to cause such a break.

"Earth calls Moon!" Dina calls back to you, making you jump and blink several times before to answer her.

“Sorry, what were you gonna say?”

Dina rolls her eyes before smiling and saying, “I'd like you to meet Noah. He's a bit eccentric, he loves to party, but maybe you could like someone like him.” you giggle awkwardly “I’m serious. He's very cute and I think you'd get along well. I don't want to force you, but I've arranged to meet him here tonight.”

“Oh, thanks for respecting my time!” you exclaim, rolling your eyes.

“I didn't tell him he has a date with you, let's say I told him about the party here tonight and so...” she gives you a knowing wink, you roll your eyes again.

“I don't know,” you sigh.

“Try! Maybe you'll like him!”

You scratch your neck in an embarrassed gesture, “Okay. . .” you sigh, sipping your drink.

For that unusual evening, Dina insisted that you wear a dress of hers that a friend had made for her a while ago, but which she said was now too small for her. The dress itself is very simple and elegant, unusual for you. You don't particularly like this kind of clothes because they draw too many glances at you and you feel uncomfortable.

You walk into Tipsy Bison and look at how they've decorated that place. You've never seen so many lights illuminate it. It's amazing. You find yourself smiling as you look around and see Dina dancing and having fun with a guy who seems to be a great dancer. When she sees you, she waves her hand and walks away from the dancer.

“You did!” she exclaims “You’re beautiful!” she says smiling at you and you smile back shyly “This dress definitely looks better on you!”

“Thanks,” you look around nervously, “has the mysterious man arrived yet?”

“Oh yes, it's him.” she replies, turning towards the boy she was dancing with until a moment before.

You don't have time to say anything else because Dina waves the young man closer, “Hi.” He greets you. He has short brown hair and a light beard, green eyes, a warm voice and a big smile on his face. He's cute, you think.

“Hi,” you reply a little less warmly.

“So, um. . . Are you Dina's friend?” he asks you embarrassed.

“Well, I'm going to get something to drink,” she says, taking her leave.

You both look at each other sheepishly, “I'm sorry,” you tell him “I'm not used to these things.” you add, shrugging your shoulders.

“Me neighter.” he says, scratching the back of his neck “I haven't had a real date since before the outbreak,” you smile weakly “I'm Noah,” he introduces himself, stretching out his hand which you shake while saying your name.

“How long have you been here in Jackson?” he asks you.

“A few months. And you?”

“A year. It's weird that we've never seen each other before.”

“Well, I'm not a people person, I’m a very private one. I think it also depends on the fact that I was alone for a long time.”

“You don't need to say anything, what we lived has changed all of us.” you nod “The things we did to survive transformed us,” you gulp “let's not think about it now, come I'll offer you what you want.” he tells you smiling.

“A soda,” he nods “better not to drink.” you add, clearing your throat. Instead he takes a slightly alcoholic drink and then you sit down, you're both uncomfortable at first, then you find yourself talking about horse riding and playing the piano and so you have something to say to each other and actually start exchanging opinions, while there’s a gentle music in the background and someone is slow dancing. Including Dina and Ellie.

You look first at the two girls in surprise, then at Noah who smiles and looks back. “They're cute, right?” Noah asks you.

You nod, “I thought she was with Jesse, I didn't realize. . .”

It's an instant and the situation goes from being tender to tense as Seth, the owner of the place, uses an absolutely rude tone and manner towards the two girls. To make everything worse, Joel intervenes and, from what you understand, he isn't well received here. He chases Seth away from the two, or rather from Ellie, and Seth reacts to this behavior.

Luckily, Maria and Tommy intervene and separate the two men. You watch Maria and Tommy go out with Seth who blurts out about Dina and Ellie's indecent behavior towards the families and children who are in the club, but then your attention focuses on Joel and Ellie.

You don't hear what they say, but you observe the contrite look of the man who looks at the young woman and then also leaves the room. He doesn't see you, but you see the tears fly down his cheeks before he walks out of Tipsy Bison.

You feel so sorry for him that a part of you wants to run after him, but you're sure he won't thank you so you don't.

After that moment of great tension, the music starts again and everything goes back to how it was before. All in all, your evening was calm and pleasant, Noah and you discovered other passions in common and you therefore spent a pleasant evening. It hadn't happened to you for a long time and you even managed to relax a little.

When you come home, however, the scenario is anything but serene. You hear the fire crackle and find Joel in a deep state of despair, he can't stop drinking. You look at him worriedly, “Joel,” you groan sadly, you are thinking about what to say.

“Fuck off, I don't want your pity!” he blurts out, pouring himself another glass of amber liquid and gulping it down “Go away!”

“No, stop.” you desperately try to stop him, but he snatches the glass and bottle from your grasp dropping some on the ground “I don't feel pity for you, but understanding.” you breathe heavily “You know what, I want forget it too!” you blurt out, heading towards a cabinet where he keeps wines and spirits.

The bottle of whiskey is thick and heavy, you open it a little clumsily “Don't be stupid!” Joel exclaims as he approaches to snatch the bottle from your hands, but you precede him and drink from the bottle moving away from him.

“No!” you protest “I suffer too, Joel. But I don't drown it in a glass of vodka or try to forget who I am so I don't suffer. Fuck, it doesn't work like that!” you say, taking another sip of whiskey feeling the tears in the back of your eyes and feeling your throat and insides burning.

“Then, why are you drinking?” he asks you.

“So there will be two of us who will forget. You can talk to me and I won't remember a thing about what you confided in me.” you tell him, staggering closer to him without stopping to swallow that drink.

“You're crazy, you know?” he says, taking the bottle from your hands and placing it on the kitchen island. You nod.

Suddenly Joel no longer seems so clear nor his voice hoarse to your ears, everything seems to echo and the edges blur.

You don't even know how you ended up on that couch in his living room, half intertwined, he talks non-stop and you laugh about what he says or you simply find yourself snuggling closer against him. Your hand wanders along the open edges of his shirt, he stops your hand on more than one occasion, but you always find a way to start stroking the edge of his garment again until one of your fingers doesn't end up caressing the base of his neck and this time he completely wraps your hand in his and you look into each other's eyes without saying anything.

“Don't.” he tells you calmly after what seemed like minutes to you.

“You scared?” you ask placing one leg delicately between his and letting the dress show your legs and almost all of your thighs.

“‘bout what? You?” he asks, you smile weakly shaking your head “So what about?”

“That you can't have a normal life anymore. Do you ever think about your life and what it would have been like if the world had never ended?”

He breathes deeply, “To be honest, I dunno what I would have done with my life.”

“Try,” you encourage him.

He clicks his tongue and stares at the ceiling for a few moments, “Maybe… I would have started my own business company.”

You hum, “Were you in the sector?” he smiles faintly, putting an arm behind his head and in that light he doesn’t even seem that old.

“I was a contractor.” You nod. “I was pretty good, y’know.”

“I’m sure you still are, why don’t you build anymore?” you ask him curiously.

“Well, no one feels safe entrusting the construction of a house to a drunk,” he confides in you and you, in a fit of tenderness, or perhaps due to the alcohol, rest your head in the crook of his neck and close your eyes. He moves his arm again and this time places it on your back, which he caresses absentmindedly.

“Don’t be sad, lil’ one,” he tells you, almost mumbling and with a tone that perhaps was meant to be a reproach, but which instead moved you even more.

“I'm not,” you tell him, gently caressing his neck with your nose, while he brings his other hand to your thigh.

You flinch at that contact, you remember the last guy, oh it was a long time ago and the moment was anything but intimate.

Now you're with Joel and this moment has suddenly become anything but weird. It's probably the alcohol, but being with him has become pleasant and intimate. Even though he's constantly angry and sad, you know, you sense that he will never do anything that may hurt you.

His hand caresses you so gently that you shiver, every now and then you feel his nails tickling your skin and you find yourself swallowing emptyly. You close your eyes and savor that sweet touch reverberating throughout your body. You like it.

You let out a longer sigh, you feel him smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?”

“Uh?”

“Have you ever been married?” you ask him sincerely curious.

“I was. For a while.” he tells you caressing the outer side of your thigh as slowly as before.

“I like it.” you say with a sigh.

“What? That I was married?”

You smile, “No, dummy. I like the way you caress me.”

He smiles, “You’re taking advantage of me because I’m very tipsy.”

Your smile widens, “I think you’re doing it too,” you mumble, pressing yourself a little tighter against him, inhaling his strong scent of musk, wood, leather, mint and alcohol.

Alcohol has always bothered you in terms of smell, but on him it becomes pleasant.

“I had my own opinion about you,” he suddenly tells you, opening and closing his eyes.

“Not a good one, I guess.”

He smiles, opening his eyes, “Of course not.”

You find yourself smiling and absentmindedly caressing that portion of chest that peeks out from the edges of his shirt.

“What now?” you ask him.

“I dunno.” he answers you in a vague tone.

You chuckle, “You are beautiful.” You blurt out before you can even think about it.

“This is what you think of me?” you smile at him, snuggling into his neck and kissing it gently “Whatcha doing?” he asks you as you feel him holding his breath.

“I like your scent,” you admit, deeply inhaling his scent.

You rest on one of your forearms, getting up slightly and finding yourself looking at his face that you now find decidedly pleasant.

He reaches out to your face, moving a large strand of hair out of the braid behind your ear and start caressing your cheek. Oh, his hand has such a soft, gentle touch even though it's calloused and chapped!

He caresses your lower lip with his thumb, you get the shivers without even knowing exactly why.

“You know, no one knows about these panic attacks of mine.” You pause. “I think that’s what I have, I’m not sure. Anyway, you’re the first and only one who’s been there for me. Thank you.”

He caresses your cheek with an unusual and disarming tenderness and intimacy, “Anytime.”

“Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it was this first real conversation of ours, but I almost feel like I don’t feel broken, but good. Alive, maybe. Yes, I feel alive,” you confess to him.

You are eye to eye. Those hazel eyes almost seem to turn honey-colored in the fireplace light.

“Joel?”

“Uh?”

“I want to kiss you,” you answer him with your eyes downcast, feeling almost suspended.

“Don't.” he says placing a fingertip on your lips.

You lower your head, “Sorry that was stupid.”

“It's not that. It's. . . Um, I don't think I remember how to do it,” he adds sheepishly.

You smile, reaching out to cup his cheek, “I trust you.”

He smiles weakly, “Is that why you drank with me?” you nod “What if I had attacked you? What if I had hurt you?”

“You couldn't. I know.” you reply caressing his right cheek.

He places his hand on yours, “You're wrong. You know nothing ‘bout me. I've done so many horrible things and if you were smart enough, you'd run away.” he says.

“And what did you do that was so horrible? You did what we all had to do to survive.” you tell him “I don't judge you.”

“And why you do?” he asks you.

“Because…” you fell silent for a moment with your head down “I killed, but not just to survive,” he looks at you in silence, slightly increasing his grip on your hand, “I killed the man who raped me. I can't stop seeing that scene before my eyes, but I can't regret what I did.” he doesn't comment on what you said, but lifts your hand from his cheek and brings it to his mouth, more precisely he brings your wrist to his mouth and kisses it delicately “I tried to kill myself. There was a moment when I felt like a monster and...” the words die in your throat.

He kisses your wrist even more intensely “Thank you.” you look at him perplexed “For coming looking for me. You were reckless, but thank you.” you smile at him.

“It took you a long time!” you tease him “I know you're sweet, but hardened by everything you've had to endure.” you add.

“Well, I think it's the same for you too. In short, you fought and even if. . . Um. . . broken, you are...” he appears unsure of the words to use “shit, I don't even remember how to give a decent compliment!” he curses, making you smile.

“Do we blame the whiskey and vodka?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So can I blame the whiskey for what I want to do?” he nods, looking into your eyes.

You place your lips on his once, twice, three times, on the fourth he kisses you back placing his hands on your cheeks and deepening your kiss. “We'll regret it, you know?” he asks before he starts kissing you again and holding you tightly to him while you sink your hands into his grayish curly hair.

You feel so good, you look into each other's eyes for a long, long moment, then everything goes dark.

[mejaemin]

unhappy ending - 7dream

wc: 2.2k

summary: 7dream as angst tropes/plotlines (a.k.a. the dreamies as things that make me sad)

warnings: not proofread, extreme angst, hurt/no comfort (mark: cheating, manipulation, toxicity) (renjun: hospitals, depictions of illness and having an unwell appearance) (jeno: depression, depression related habits) (donghyuck: enlistment, death, murder?) (jaemin: this one kinda has comfort? dystopia, implied death, suggestive/after sex) (chenle: a lot of toxicity, being used) (jisung: getting played, heartbreak, ghosting)

an: who let me do this. i am hurting so bad and im the one that wrote it ?!?! this is why i hate angst guys im never doing this again. gonna write the fluffiest of fluff now

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

cheating!mark texts you every morning and night, sending sweet messages with the occasional song lyric or spider man quote, be it motivational or romantic. it’s arguably your favorite part of the day, looking forward to the message of the day and the next. it’s quite confusing however, when he texts you one day saying “goodnight angel, sleep well! gonna be in the studio tomorrow, i’ll pick u up on the way <3 love you gorgeous, see you tomorrow minjeong”… when you ask him about it, questioning who this minjeong is, he immediately shuts down any idea of cheating immediately. when you sit in the studio with him the following day, he’s in the booth recording some chords on his guitar when you look at his phone. unsurprisingly, there’s messages from a “minjeong <3”. upon opening them, you see texts and texts that go on for months. of course, you immediately start screaming at mark, sobbing and punching him with frustration at his unfaithfulness. with a big pout and gifts ready, he kisses your tears away, rocking you back and forth in his arms so sweetly, cooing as he convinces you it’s no one, bringing you to stay with him and ignore the many “i knew it” texts from your friends.

memory loss!renjun sits in the hospital bed, skin pale and sickly as he draws in a sketchbook with shaky hands. there’s countless cords and tubes attached to his body, the abundance of technology being the only thing keeping him alive. the nurse standing next to you places a hand on your shoulder, startling you and forcing you to turn away from the hospital door’s window.

“if you’d like, you can try again today. he’s been pretty stable recently.” her smile doesn’t even attempt to reach her eyes, and you know she’s only doing it to try (terribly) to comfort you.

you nod gently, reaching for the door handle. “mm. thank you, i’ll do that.”

when you open the door, he looks up, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you. “who are you? what are you doing here?”

you sit next to him, reaching for his hand, but he flinches and pulls it to his chest. “renjun… i- i’m sorry. i should have asked. i’m your girlfriend, we’ve been dating for three years, can you remember?”

he looks you up and down judgmentally, though it isn’t too intimidating when he’s as skinny as a twig. “no, i’m sorry, you must be mistaken. i’m very much single.”

just like that, your skin heats up with frustration and you have to fight back tears. turning on your phone, you turn it to him, showing your lock screen of the two of you. he only looks more confused, so you unlock it and begin scrolling through your gallery, swiping through photos upon photos of the memories between you two.

“do you really not remember any of this..? we’ve been dating for the past three years, we met in high school, donghyuck introduced us.. please tell me you remember, any of it.” your voice quivers, the tears falling freely now.

he shakes his head, albeit weakly. “no, i’m sorry i don’t remember any of this. are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

from your bag, you pull out a small framed piece of canvas paper. on it is a bouquet of your favorite flowers, renjun’s signature in the bottom corner. “junnie, do you remember painting this?” he nods gently. “you made this for me. it’s my favorite flowers, and you gave it to me on my birthday.”

“that.. doesn’t sound right. i create art for myself, not to gift to other people. i wouldn’t do that. how did you get that.”

you can’t even see what’s in front of you, heaps and heaps of tears falling from your eyes. this is the third week in a row, trying to help renjun regain his memories, and the third week it failed. no matter what you say, what you show him, it’s like you never existed. the nurse opens the door, suggesting you leave, and as she helps you out you leave the painting with him, hoping and praying he’ll be able to remember you and all the love you had for each other.

overwhelmed!jeno was the sweetest to you, always being there for you when you needed it. no matter what he was always a call away, if you needed him he was there. he paid attention to your every need, and kept tabs on just about everything relating to you. favorite color, movie, flower, clothing style, everything. he was genuinely the best boyfriend you think you’d ever encounter. he treated you so, so good, rubbing your feet when you were tired, taking care of you when sick, and buying you the cutest of gifts ‘just because’. you were the same way with him too, y’know. whenever he felt overwhelmed, whether it be from the attention of his peers or even his own thoughts, you always knew how to calm him down. he found a home in your arms, as did you with him. everyone around you could see how perfect you two were, saying that love was real because of you. it was like everything was perfect as long as jeno was by your side. however, every couple has a rocky patch, and it just seems that you guys couldn’t make it through. sometimes, jeno got too burnt out taking care of you, despite it being something he enjoyed, and fell into habits of not taking care of himself. he grew eye bags, sleeping all day and didn’t look or act anything like himself. the outside world along with all his responsibilities at home, and his own, nagging, overwhelming, intrusive thoughts became too much, and he found it a struggle to love himself, let alone another person. with all the love in your heart, you had no choice but to part ways with him in hopes of him getting better and finding himself again. you hoped that his future had you in it, but you doubt you can be in the picture when he enters the right state of mind.

bf!donghyuck who spent the past year living his best life with you, taking you out on extravagant dates and vacations to make as many memories as possible before his enlistment. he bought so many gifts, took so many photos, and left so many marks in your shared home to make sure you’d never miss him. despite joking about it all the time, he was scared and upset about it as well. whole writing a letter for every month he was gone, more than half ended up having tear stains on them. tucking the final one into the box and leaving it somewhere for you to find, he grabbed his bags and ran to the car, sitting in the passenger seat while you drove him to the site. the whole ride was filled with tears and pointless arguments, the dread consuming you both. a whole year and a half without your soulmate, the love of your life was something you truly couldn’t bare. once you arrived, you helped him grab his stuff and make his way to the place where you would depart. right before he made his way to the hundreds of other men he would be going with, he dropped his stuff and held you tightly in his arms, kissing all your tears away and blending them with his own, promising that it would go by quickly, like he was never gone. for the first couple months you believed it, uncovering pranks and hidden gifts from him throughout the time he was gone. however, the third month came, and his gift this time wasn’t funny, or cute at all. when you opened your tv that morning, the news channel popped up, the reporter giving a solemn expression as he relayed the news that your lover’s base, the place donghyuck was stationed at, had been attacked, majority of the soldiers there being killed. a list of names was revealed, and with your heart beating out of your chest and nausea waving through you, your eyes trailed down the list until it stopped. lee donghyuck, age 24, was in the list of soldiers who had died. your entire lifeline, the one who owned your entire heart, the man who reminded you of the warm sun, had lied to you. he was gone, and wasn’t coming back.

dystopian bf!jaemin is someone who you admittedly don’t know too well. the world is overheating, on the verge of ending, and the sky is bright orange, air smoky in the mid-day when you meet him. with 30 minutes left on earth, the announcement ringing through all devices and televisions in the world. laying on the hood of his car, watching smoke billow through the sky in the distance, he turns to you with a smile.

“y’know, i’m really happy i met you, girlfriend.” his skin is bare, a dirty blanket covering both of your exposed bodies. at this point, you couldn’t care less about your skin being dirty.. there’s thirty minutes until you die, and with your boyfriend of about five hours, the only thing you’re concerned about is getting all your firsts checked off before everything ends.

you smile back, resting your head on your arm. “me too, boyfriend. this couldn’t have gone any better.” he pulls you in ever so gently, kissing you once again. it’s quite embarrassing, being in your twenties and having never experienced anything romantic, but you and jaemin are in the same boat and you both can agree that it’s really nice.

“touché. say, why don’t we get to know each other with what time we have left, hm?” his hand caresses your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. you can feel his hands shaking against your skin, and you try not to let it but it makes you all the more nervous about what’s to come.

“of course, shoot.” pulling your shirt on, you sit up and he follows suit.

with your last thirty minutes on earth, you share the stories of your parents who succumbed to the wrath of the decaying planet and all the other funny stories of your lives. the end felt so lonely this past month, and as your phone alerts you of there being a minute left, you feel whole again despite your sadness and fear. finding someone so similar to you, relating to him and connecting with him in such terrifying moments makes you feel a lot less empty. as you count down, saying goodbye to your short life, you watch the world around you, including yourself, burn while in the arms of someone you never thought you’d have.

toxic!chenle who always kept you on his arm, yet that’s all he ever did for you. he never addressed you or looked your way, but he never let you create any distance between you and him. if anyone asked, you were “his lovely, beautiful girlfriend”, but as soon as heads turned you were nothing but an annoying pest who kept clinging to him. you asked to be loved, to feel appreciated, and he’d look at you, an unconvincing pout on his face as he held yours lovingly and convinced you he’d change and give you the love you deserve. he’d take you out on a date, spoiling you with every penny just to make a post about it and then kick you to the curb. he didn’t love you, you knew that, but his attention was everything to you. he treated you so well when eyes were on you two that it was all you needed to stick around, giving him all your love when to him you were nothing but a shiny new toy to parade around to his friends.

heartbreaker!jisung who reached out to you one day, saying he was a friend of a friend who wanted to get to know you. you’ve never had that happen to you before, being wanted, so you began talking to him. he was so sweet, a cute, shy boy who’s fails at flirting and romantic gestures were extremely charming. he swept you off your feet quickly, taking you on many dates and buying many gifts for you. this dragged on for a long time, and you were so happy to have someone by your side that you didn’t even think of the fact that he never asked to make it official until your friend brought it up. thinking things were going well, you called him and suggested giving your relationship a title. immediately his line went silent, giving you no response, only being able to hear his hyperventilating, before he hung up. you texted him and called many times, begging him to tell you what was up, but it all fell on deaf ears as he eventually blocked you on everything. you were left heartbroken without closure, only hearing what happened when a friend of his reached out, apologizing on his behalf. allegedly, he said he was too scared to have a real relationship and couldn’t be a boyfriend to you. you couldn’t believe your ears, or, eyes. he made you feel so loved, so seen, all for him to back out because he was too scared to love, too unready.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

perm taglist: @chenlezip

[azu1as]

i adore all those aus where shen qingqiu ends up bringing a baby back into the sect and i want that for yue qingyuan.

maybe he ends up stumbling on one of airplane's weird flora and fauna that gives him a plant baby with features that match the victim's true love. in yqy's case, shen jiu, of course.

He hurries back to the sect, keeping close tabs on the baby and refusing to let anyone see the child other than mu qingfang just in case, his beautiful, tiny, she's so small in his arms, daughter ends up being recognized as xiao jiu's especially with her adorable pucker that reminds him of a younger xiao jiu's when he eats something particularly bitter and her brown-green eyes that yue qingyuan quietly hopes turns greener as she gets older.

quite obviously, no one else would recognize these features on such a cute baby and attribute it to the less cute (although yqy would beg to differ) qing jing peak lord.

rumors fly around about yqy's lovechild. the ones who saw him come back from the mission only recall seeing a child in his arms as he quickly flew back to his residence before locking himself in for nearly a week.

when shen qingqiu hears of the rumors, he scoffs. he punishes the disciples who dared utter those baseless accusations towards their sect leader.

it isn't until the next month's peak lord meeting that they're finally introduced to yue qingyuan's daughter.

she looks just like him, shen jiu thinks when he catches a close glimpse.

who was the mother? the next thought follows, filling him with a strong wave of vitriol and an odd sense of betrayal.

"maaaa..." the baby gurgles. she was propped on yue qingyuan's desk, his hands supporting her body weight. the baby giggles as it wiggles around before reaching out towards...shen jiu?

shen jiu clenches the fan in his hand as he uncomfortably watches the baby grunt in an effort to reach him, garbling babyspeak at yue qingyuan as she tried to pull away from his hold towards him instead.

"ma!" the baby yells out, eyes turning glossy in the same way yue qingyuan's often does. the baby stops her attempts at reaching him, and shen jiu almost thanks the heavens that the baby has stopped acting foolishly before she tilts her head up and ear-piercingly wails,

"MAMAAAAAA!"

Qi Qingqi grimances and tells him, "Just take the baby already, Shen Qingqiu!"

Shen Qingqiu didn't like being told what to do, but he disliked the annoying baby's crying more. He takes the baby away from Yue Qingyuan's hands ("Ah! Support her head, Shen-shixiong.") and holds her out in front of himself like an unruly cat.

The baby's cries thanfully die down, but she stretches out her hands as if she wanted to be held towards his chest. A glance towards the other peak lords, who were watching the both of them warily, made him realize that it would be less of a pain to simply do as the baby wanted and have it over with.

"You are as terrible as your father." Shen Qingqiu tells the baby.

He ignores the noises the other peak lords made at his declaration, his eyes caught in the way the baby tilts her head, her entire body almost following suit, at him and giggles.

"Don't laugh, you hellion." he tells off the child finally resting her weight on his chest. It's strangely soothing.

Shen Qingqiu settles back into his seat and raises an eyebrow at the staring peak lords. "Well? Are we going to finish this meeting or are all of you content with wasting an hour staring at this one like some sort of spectacle?"

The baby, finally quiet and comfortable on Shen Qingqiu, falls asleep midway through the meeting. It's a surprise when Shen Qingqiu also finds his eyes almost drooping at one point.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't want to read into his hesitation when Yue Qingyuan finally comes over to take the baby from him. He tucks his hands away into his robes, ignoring the odd emptiness he feels.

[fairytaleendingss]

Blood, Sweat and Tears

Summary: You join the fight club at your school to learn how to defend yourself from evil football players and find yourself getting closer to one of it's founding members in the process.

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x fem!Reader

CW: Blood, injury, swearing.

Bottoms is literally my new favourite movie and I'm so obsessed with Ruby Cruz now lol. I don't know how much of an audience there still is for Hazel fics but I had to write a little something to fuel the obsession.

This also ended up being a lot longer than I planned, lol.

--

Hazel was staring. She didn't mean to but she couldn't help it. She was sitting a row behind you in class, her chin resting on her hand as she watched you bent over your desk, vigorously taking notes just as you always did.

The truth was, Hazel had been harboring a crush on you for almost as long as she could remember. Ever since that one time in Freshman year when she'd left a notebook on her desk at the end of class and you'd rushed out into the hallway to return it to her, she'd been completely and utterly infatuated.

She knew it was far fetched of course. You were gorgeous and popular and very likely straight. And Hazel was... well, she was Hazel. A nerdy loser who most of the school found either weird or annoying. There was no way on earth she'd have a chance with you. So, instead she'd taken to admiring you from afar.

"Hazel?"

"Hey, Hazel!"

She jolted upright at the sound of PJ's voice. She turned toward her absentmindedly, her thoughts still half lingering on you.

"Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

PJ just rolled her eyes. "You're drooling all over your textbook."

"Oh, uh..." she abruptly sat up, looking down to check if there in fact was a puddle on her book and reached a hand up to wipe across her lips.

PJ sighed exasperatedly. "I didn't mean that literally. I just meant that your staring was super obvious."

Josie, who was sitting beside PJ, nudged her lightly.

"Ease up, PJ," She told the girl. "You know you'd be the same if it was Brittany who was sitting in front of you."

"That's beside the point," PJ grumbled in response. Josie ignored her, leaning towards Hazel.

"If you like her, you should invite her to fight club."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Oh, I don't know..."

PJ rolled her eyes once more.

"Hey! Y/n!"

Before Hazel could finish responding, PJ was on her feet, striding across the room to where you were now chatting to Stella-Rebecca as she packed up her things for lunch.

You turned to look at PJ as she marched towards you, a hint of confusion coating your features. You hadn't really talked to PJ that much before. All you knew is that she was gay and friends with that pretty girl in your class, Hazel.

"Hi..."

She smirked up at you for a moment, trying and failing to act nonchalant.

"I don't know if you've heard but we have this club that we've started after school. It's like a female solidarity sort of thing-"

"It's a fight club. It's super fun!" Stella chimed in.

PJ nodded. "Thank you Stella. It's more of a self-defense club, really. We're teaching each other how to stand up for ourselves against Huntington."

"Oh yeah. I've heard about that," you told her earnestly.

"Great!" PJ exclaimed. "Well, we actually have a meeting this afternoon. You should come."

You bit your lip. You weren't so sure about this. From what Stella had told you, it was a club where girls spent the afternoon beating each other up and by the looks of of the bruises that seemed to permanently colour the members' cheeks, it could get pretty violent.

"Oh. Thanks for the invite but I don't really know if that's my thing."

"Come on! Give it a chance," PJ prodded. "It's really educational! Right Stella?"

You friend nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Last week I punched a girl in the face and broke her nose."

You turned to look at her with a raised brow.

"See?" PJ responded, pulling your attention back. You still seemed unsure.

She sighed, wracking her brain for some last ditch attempt to get you interested.

"Plus, uh, Hazel will be there!"

It was a hopeless attempt, she figured. However, she was surprised when your eyebrows perked. Your gaze ventured across the room to where Hazel and Josie had been watching on keenly. Josie tried to act natural when she noticed you looking, while Hazel just mustered a shy wave.

You let out a thoughtful breath, turning back to the girl in front of you.

"Okay, fine. I guess I'll give it a go."

PJs eyes widened. "Wow, really?"

She hadn't expected that to work.

"Yeah, why not? I guess I'll see you this afternoon," you told her with a soft smile and a small wave as you and Stella began to exit the classroom.

"Okay, great. See you later then," PJ called after you. She was still kind of surprised by your change of heart, especially at the mention of Hazel of all people. Could there be a chance you liked her back?

She pondered the idea as she returned to her friends and sent them a smug thumbs up.

--

You told yourself you were going to the club for a chance to learn to defend yourself. That was all this was. Huntington was attacking the vulnerable students in the lead up to the big game and you didn't want to be caught off-guard if the situation arose where they went after you.

You entered the gym that afternoon alongside Stella-Rebecca and were met with the sight of a bunch of girls fooling around with gym equipment. You scanned the room, recognising Isabel and Brittney who were chatting by the far wall, as well as PJ and Josie who were ogling them from the bottom step of the bleachers. Then your eyes landed on Hazel. She was sitting on the floor with Annie, listening intently to whatever story Sylvie was animatedly telling. She threw her head back, laughing at something the other girl had said and you watched the way her eyes sparkled and dimples appeared in the soft skin of her cheeks.

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. Who were you kidding? You were there for her.

You and Hazel had only had a handful of interactions throughout the years; however, you always thought she seemed really sweet and friendly. She often waved 'hello' to you in the hallway and you noticed how she always kept spare pens and hair-ties and things of the sort in her school bag for anyone who needed it. You admired her unshakable kindness towards everyone, even people who treated her poorly, and the way she knew exactly who she was and never strayed away from it, no matter what anyone else thought of her. You hated to admit it, but over the last year or so you'd developed a bit of a crush on the girl. One that you'd kept securely to yourself.

"Hey! You made it!" Josie called across the room, causing the other club members to pause their activities to look towards you.

"Hi everyone," you muttered awkwardly.

"Alright, now that we're all here," PJ stated, getting up and slowly walking across the room. "We can start beating each other the fuck up!"

Your eyes widened as you watched the girls all jump to attention.

"Get in a circle, sluts!" The girl yelled and you quickly hurried to join the group in a circle.

"Now who wants to go first?"

--

The club was not all what you expected. Sure, these girls were hitting each other but in a way, they were also bonding. They were all in it together, cheering each other on and encouraging one another to give it their best go.

You watched as Brittney wrestled Josie and then Stella-Rebecca went up against Sylvie. The rest of the club members cheered and clapped when one of the girls landed a hit and despite the inevitable bruises they'd have tomorrow, they did it with smiles on their faces.

You were starting to get why people enjoyed it now. Maybe it was empowering, in a sort of strange, dysfunctional way.

You all clapped as Stella stepped out of the ring, sweaty and bloody-knuckled but beaming with her win.

"Good job, Stella," you whispered as she stepped back into the circle beside you.

"Hey y/n," PJ then called across the group. "Now that you've seen how things operate around here, think you're ready to have a go?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm up for that."

You stepped into the circle as the rest of the girls clapped and shouted words of encouragement in your direction. You were still slightly nervous but excited to give it a try.

"Great! Hazel, why don't you go with her?" PJ said, with a smirk in Hazel's direction.

Your eyes widened as you looked over towards the dark haired girl and you felt your heart speed up in anticipation. She clearly seemed to share a similar sentiment as she rubbed the back of her neck, awkwardly stepping into the ring with you.

"Hi," you murmured, looking at her nervously.

"Uh, hi," she responded, her voice small.

"Ready?" PJ shouted. You braced yourself.

"Fight!"

The two of you began to circle each other, not quite knowing what to do. You didn't know whether to be frustrated or excited that you had been paired together. You didn't want to hit her. What if you hurt her? But at the same time, you weren't upset about the opportunity to get close to Hazel, even under unconventional circumstances.

You were disrupted from your thoughts by a fist hitting you square in the stomach. You groaned and doubled over as pain radiated through you and you looked up to see Hazel staring down at you with wide eyes.

"Are you oka-"

Before she could finish her sentence you sent a swift kick to her shin and she grunted and stumbled backwards.

"Yeah! Kick her ass Y/n!" Someone - probably Sylvie - called out and a few girls clapped and cheered you on. You felt bad for hurting Hazel but your adrenaline was surging now. You were really starting to see why the girls enjoyed this.

With a new-found enthusiasm, you surged forward, swing a fist in Hazel's direction. She, unfortunately having had a lot more experience with fighting than you at this point, dodged the attack. She then lurched towards you, grabbing your midsection and tackling you to the floor. She pinned your arms up on either side of your head as you struggled against her, in an attempt to break free.

Then you looked, up and for a moment, your eyes locked with her baby blue ones. You could feel the gentle tickle of her breath on your neck and her fingers digging into your wrists.

She was breathing heavy, her shaggy, raven hair hanging around her face as she hovered over you, your bodies practically pressed together.

Then, with a huff, you shifted your weight, rolling over her and swapping your positions so now you had her pinned instead.

"Wow! Nice work Y/n," PJ called. "Impressive for a first timer!"

You looked up at her with a smile as a few of the girls uttered there encouragements. You let go of Hazel's wrists and righted yourself, still sitting on her torso, keeping her restrained. You turned for a brief moment to look fondly up at some of the other girls.

When you turned back towards Hazel, prepared to congratulate her on a good fight, you were met with a fist to the face. You fell backwards heavily, landing with a thud on the hardwood floor.

A chorus of surprised "oooh"'s resonated from the group and few members - Hazel included - hurried towards you.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Hazel exclaimed, rushing over to kneel by your side.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you muttered, if only to placate the her. The truth was that your eye left eye was positively throbbing.

"Here, let me help you," She muttered, sliding a hand under your back, the other grasping your arm gently as she helped you sit up. You had hand covering your injured eye in a desperate attempt to sooth the ache that lingered.

There was a group huddled around you at this point, looking at you with wide eyed expressions. Even once you were sitting, Hazel's hand stayed on your back. Her eyes were swimming with concern as she assessed you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Josie muttered hesitantly. "Let's see your eye..."

Slowly you removed your hand from your face. You were met with a series of gasps.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you looked around at the girls frantically. "What? Is it bad?"

"N-no... it's just, ah..." Josie struggled to find the words.

"It looks like you've been hit in the face with a shovel," PJ jumped in, never one for sugar-coating things.

"What?" you squeaked, horrified. You lifted a hand to touch the swollen area but Hazel was quick to grab your wrist on the way.

"I don't think you should touch it," she murmured softly, guilt wracking her delicate features.

"Hey, Hazel. Why don't you take her to the bathroom to get cleaned up?” PJ suggested.

Hazel nodded hurriedly and stood up, guiding you upwards with her with a grasp on your elbow.

You listened to the sounds of the club recommencing as she lead you out of the gym.

--

"Okay, sit up here," she said softly, directing you to sit on the counter by the sink.

She then grabbed some toilet paper from one of the cubical and ran it under the tap.

"Could, you- uh..."

"Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You parted your legs to allow her to stand between them and with careful precision, she began to dab at the broken skin along your cheekbone. You couldn't help bit examine her beautiful face as she worked. She looked so serious, staring at your injured eye with a sort of solemn intensity you were used to seeing her wear.

She winced when you flinched back as the paper ran over a particularly tender patch of skin and she looked at you with an expression like you'd just kicked her puppy.

"Sorry." Her voice was so small and laced with guilt that it made you want to cry.

"Hazel," you uttered gently, reaching a hand up to holt her ministrations. "Look at me."

When her eyes met yours, you noticed they were glassy with unshed tears. Your heart clenched at the sight.

You rested a hand on her upper arm, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb, in the fabric of her shirt. "It's okay, I'm not upset with you. It wasn't your fault."

She looked away again, her eyes moving to the floor.

"I didn't mean to hit you that, hard, I promise."

"I know," you told her sympathetically. "I don't blame you, okay?"

She nodded softly, then you watched as her gaze moved back to your face. With a feather light touch, she lifted a hand to your cheek, running her thumb over the edge of your bruise, careful not to agitate the swelling.

"I can't believe I gave you a black eye," She mumbled, after a moment.

"I can't believe I have a black eye," you responded.

"I mean, it does look kind of badass," Hazel remarked, the ghost of a smile creeping onto her lips. "You look like a superhero or something."

You smirked at her, scoffing playfully. "Well, who says I'm not?"

She paused for a moment, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"I'm kidding. That was a joke."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You chuckled dryly, fiddling with your hands where they rested in your lap.

"You know, today wasn't a total disaster."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I only agreed to come to Fight Club because it meant spending time with you. So mission accomplished I guess," you joked, gesturing to the awkward situation. In a roundabout way, you supposed things had worked out in your favour.

"Wait, you wanted to spend time with me?"

She looked bewildered, like you'd just revealed to her that you were from the future or something equally absurd.

"Yeah..."

You took a deep breath, pondering if now was the right time to say what you wanted to. All of these feelings, years in the making you had begun to build, swirling inside of you like a whirl pool and plotting to break free. You looked up at the girl before you, eyes tracing the contours of her perfect face. It was just the two of you here, alone in this bathroom. You didn't know when another opportunity like this would arise - if it ever would. With a racing heart, you decided now was as good a time as any.

"I like you Hazel."

“…”

She stared at you for a moment. Dead silent, completely in awe of this revelation. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine this would happen. That you would actually... like her back.

She felt like she was floating outside of her body, completely out of control as she continued to stare at you, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Your eyes bore into her own, nervously. "A-are you okay?"

And just like that she was snapped from her daze. "Y-yeah... yeah I'm good. Sorry. It's just... you like me?"

You chuckled at her frazzled-ness. "Yeah I do.

"Like, in a romantic way?"

"Yes," you clarified. "I've liked you for a really long time now, actually."

Before you knew what was happening, Hazel has smashed her lips against yours in a messy but passionate kiss. Her hands grasped your waist while your arms moved around her neck and you fingers tangled into her hair.

You fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Fireworks erupted inside you, as your lips moved against hers. It was just as you'd always imagined it.

"Ow!" You hissed as she accidentally bumped your bruised eye.

Well, except for that part.

"Sorry," she cringed, pulling away to inspect the injury once more.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

--

The next day, you walked in to fight club hand in hand, only to be met with many surprised expressions from the rest of the group - as well as an encouraging thumbs up in Hazel's direction from Sylvie.

Hazel placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as the two of you moved to talk to some of your friends.

"Are you kidding me?" PJ exclaimed to Josie as they observed the two of you. "I can't believe Hazel is getting pussy before we are."

Josie just rolled her eyes. "PJ, your literally the one that set this whole thing up. You're the one who invited Y/n to Fight Club in the first place."

"Oh, yeah. Right," PJ sighed in disappointment. Then her eyes lit up as a not so bright idea crossed her mind.

"Maybe I should give Brittney a black eye!"

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 9

Feelings bubble over.

sjdkfjkslfk before we get into the good stuff, i js wanna say thank you to everyone who's left a comment so far <3 it truly keeps me going when i have dry spells of writing during school!! i love reading them and the only thing stopping me from printing them out and pinning them on a wall on my room is social norms lmaoo

ao3!

poly!ghoap/gn!reader

Not Shy of a Spark

You’re skittish now.

It’s the first thing Johnny realises when he returns to your flat. He had gone under the guise of returning a jumper you had left that Halloween night.

“Hi, bonnie,” he says, his voice nearly as soft as the cotton in his hands. He’s anxiously trying not to scare you, not keen to invoke the firey anger you had reigned on them the other day. You warily glance at the fabric in Johnny’s hands before hesitantly taking it.

“Um, thanks, Johnny,” you say shyly. “Uh, I’ve got to go now. Bye.” You shut the door on him, making him droop and drag his feet on his way back to his flat.

“Any luck?” Simon asks from where he is on the couch, Riley draped across his legs like a sort of blanket while he watches footie.

“No. Barely got anythin’ outta them,” Johnny says glumly, planting himself by Simon, and petting the top of Riley’s head.

"'S alright. Still got those reservations, don't we?"

"Well, yeah, but I dinnae want them to be mad at us," Johnny says, a pronounced frown on his lips.

"I don' think they're mad at us, love. Jus' confused, is all."

"What they said abo' the statue..."

"They wouldn't've done it on purpose, I'm sure. You saw 'em before, right, and they were half hammered," Simon says, scratching Riley's belly.

"I ken. They sounded bleedin' guilty t' other day, too," he remarks quietly.

"Probably beating themselves up abo' it right now. Ought to give 'em the reservations soon, mm?"

"Yeh." Johnny slumps further into the couch at the memory of you just minutes earlier, all meek and nervous.

"Johnny, love, 's gonna be fine. Things'll work out," he reassures, leaning over to kiss the top of Johnny's head. "You'll see." Johnny's dejected. For the first time in his life, someone that he likes an awful lot, seems... scared of him. And it scares him. He's not sure how Simon's so calm about it, so confident. Typically their roles are reversed- it's usually Johnny diving in headfirst to everything, ensuring the safety of Simon's prized personal space, his bubble.

The next day, Simon reaches out to you. Like all his prior texts, he's blunt.

                                                                                                                        Today 6:33 PM

                                                  - The Springfields, Manchester

                                                  - 8 PM tomorrow.

                                                                                                                                      - ??

                                                                                                                                      - wtf???

                                                  - See you then.

"What the fuck?" You repeat aloud to yourself as you lay on your bed, wallowing in self-pity after work. You'd been ignoring your neighbours for the better half of a week now and then... Simon springs a reservation to Ivy Springfields. The nicest place you've been to since you started work was a P.F. Changs once. But Ivy Springfields is a serious place- like, with a sort of unofficial, unannounced, unspoken-dress-code-serious, which makes you panic internally. You panic and dig through your closet, attempting to put something together that's loosely 'smart casual'- it's like looking for a needle in your piles of scrubs, jeans and soft, worn-out band tees. Eventually, you come across something that's acceptable, and as you go to steam it, you begin to reason why your neighbours would invite you out to dinner after a series of strictly casual and within the building dinners.

Perhaps they were going to put a hit on you- but that didn't really make sense. If they wanted to dispose of you they probably would've taken you to a McDonald's. Maybe they were going to put you down gently, then, explain that they've actually been secretly married for half their lives and just never told you- which seems a lot more likely, actually. You hadn't gotten your hopes up, thankfully, and hadn't deluded yourself into thinking that there might've been a chance that they liked you back. You didn't hate yourself, after all.

You sleep a little easier that night, knowing you had figured out their motives for taking you out to dinner- for wasting a perfectly fine Friday night on you.

Thankfully, Ivy Springfields isn't as fancy as you dreaded it being. It's intimate, sure, but it still felt casual. Seeing couples in jeans made you feel a little overdressed and suddenly a lot stupid- maybe dressing fancy would send the wrong message to Simon and Johnny? Maybe they'd think you were expecting better of them? You're panicking internally while a server takes you to the table Simon and Johnny reserved, wishing you could shapeshift to suddenly be more comfortable or better yet, more confident. Right now you felt like a bag of open nerves.

And-

Simon and Johnny don't look more casual than you. It eases you slightly. At least you were in the same boat together, you think to yourself, trying to maintain some degree of optimism. Johnny brightens and smiles as he sees you round the corner, and you wave awkwardly. It's a booth on the rooftop, and you're canopied by an arch of vines with a candle-lit lantern hanging over the rounded table. There's a quiet hum of other people talking at the tables around, but it's not obnoxious, just comforting.

"Hi," you say shyly as you sit down, a menu in front of you. You're prepared, mentally bracing yourself for the blow you know is coming within the next 30-45 minutes.

"Hey, love," Simon murmurs from your left.

"Hi, bon," Johnny says from your right.

They keep the conversation light, on purpose, you think, until the food comes. Johnny catches you off guard mid-bite.

"Bon, about the other day. The statue... We're not mad abo' it," he says gently. "Ye were a lil' tipsy an' all. Worse could'a happen." You look up at him, blinking.

"...Oh. Um, thank you. I really am sorry. I tried to throw it at the guy, but... Well."

"'S alright." Johnny soothes. He squeezes your shoulder before biting into his pasta.

"I feel really bad about it," you admit softly.

"Don't. Stuff happened and it wasn't the worst thing that happened then, wasn't it?" Simon says as he cuts a bite-sized piece of his ribeye.

"No, I guess not," Simon grunts in approval, and you let dinner go on almost silently. You feel like you're awkwardly existing with their peaceful dinner date, there only to spectate.

It's not a bad dinner. Just not-

-optimal. Maybe if the lighting was brighter and there wasn't a couple next to your table canoodling you'd feel better about it. Maybe if you weren't overly self-conscious about how you acted around the boys, desperate to make sure they didn't think you a freak, desperate to stay in their good graces, you'd be able to enjoy being at such a posh place. It's just fine. And that unnerves you. You were expecting fire and brimstone from them, all hell reigning on your back, expecting admonishment and social banishment from your apartment building. Not tagging along like a lost puppy to their date, but that was just how the cards fell, it seems.

At the end of the very awkward dinner, some couple dozen half-laughs and small, nearly-there smiles later, they offer to drive you home. You had Uber'ed there with the intention to Uber back, but if they were offering you a free ride home, well, who were you to say no?

You take the backseat which makes Simon look slightly miffed. He doesn't talk about it so neither do you, though. You're silent the whole way back to the flat complex, letting their soft conversations wash over you and lull you to sleep as Johnny drives. The food was good, your stomach was full, you were warm and the car's gentle rocking was soothing. Somewhere during the drive you fell asleep, and it wasn't until the car pulled into the apartment's parking lot did you wake up. Your cheek was smushed against the window, crust in your eyes and a bitter taste in your throat. You take a moment, picking through your memory before you remember where-

...and you panic a little bit because you had just passed out in the backseat of two grown men who probably had a little vendetta against you. And you're still panicking when you hear Simon get up from the passenger's side and go around to your end, and you're not thinking clearly when you pretend to still be asleep as he opens the door you were leaning on ever so hesitantly before scooping you up. You have enough sense to not go rigid in his arms, but it's a narrow thing.

Johnny fishes in your bag for your keys while Simon keeps you safely cradled within his grasp. They open the door to your apartment and Simon sets you down in your bed, leaving you there before taking off your shoes and coat. Then you hear a pen against parchment, and then Johnny's quiet "g'night, bon," and the warm feeling of his lips against your forehead.

You bolt up the second you hear them leave, mortified, your hand tracing over where Johnny had kissed you in a daze. It was-

It was confusing. You thought they hated you. You thought they thought you were a creep. Instead, Johnny's kiss- even if he hadn't meant for you to have known that it happened- seemed like a reciprocation. Right? It's hard to platonically kiss someone's forehead, after all.

It gives you the jitters because now you're even more confused than you were before. There was comfort in knowing that Johnny and Simon for sure hated you and were internally condemning you. The possibility that maybe they didn't hate you- on the contrary, rather liked you- was terrifying and you considered yourself terrified. You nursed yourself a cup of tea before relenting to bed.

The next morning, you read Johnny's note:

Hi bon,

you keep on faling asleep when you hang out with us! no hard feelings, tho, it's ok. we put your keys back in your bag. hope you slept okay!!!!!

Simon and Johnny xxxxxxxx

You silently stash it next to the other note Johnny had left for you.

Now, Simon and Johnny were plotting again, because their first try at goading you into realizing that they liked you back wasn't successful.

"A museum?" Johnny suggests as he scratches Riley behind the ears.

"No, we'll be whispering the entire time," Simon grumbles. "It needs to be more intimate. A cafe?" Johnny shakes his head.

"Canne hug from across a table. Maybe a wine tastin', then? New winery opened on Mosley last week, Ah think." You leave your apartment when the words leave his lips, right as Simon nods in approval.

"Right on."

This time, it's Johnny who reaches out to you first.

                                                                                                   Today 11:43 AM

                                                      - Hi bonn!!!

                                                      - Simon and I were thinkinbg of going to a wine tasting on saterday.

                                                      - Salut Wines

                                                      - Youre invited :)

You stare at the text in suspicion while on your lunch break. The workweek had just started and you were just out with them. But still, the offer sounded nice and well-meaning enough.

                                                                                               Today 12:01 PM

                                                                                                                                     - okay, will be there!

                                                                                                                                     - what time?

                                                      - 1pm ok?

                                                                                                                                      - okay! it's a date.

(On the other side of the screen, Johnny giggles, showing Simon his phone, shoving the piece of metal in front of the book Simon had been peacefully reading.

"'S a date," he echos happily. "Oooh, it's gon' be good, Si, I j's know it.)

You're savouring this week. Sure, it's a full week of work right at the start of November, but it's comforting. The calm before the holidays storm, you suppose. You deal with tots with runny noses, showing new moms how to use baby powder, taking temperatures and running diagnostics. Clean the arm, inject the arm and soothe the baby- you've got your work down to a formula, at this point, and the security of it soothes you. But time flies when you're having fun, and before you know it, it's Saturday and you're getting ready to go next door so the boys could drive you.

"Hey," you say as Simon knocks on your door, moving back to let you step out and lock it behind you.

"Hey. Johnny's in the car already." You walk in a comforting silence with him, not feeling pressured to talk like how you usually are when at work. When you reach the parking garage, Johnny looks up from his phone and grins at you from the backseat.

"Hi, bonnie," he chirps.

"Oh- hi, Johnny, I can sit in the back," you say nearly immediately, but he shakes his head, a mischievous look on his face.

"Nae, it's okay, Ah can sit back here tonight."

"Are you sure?" You ask nervously. "I would hate to impose, it's okay, I don't mind."

"It's just a bloody seat, love," Simon grunts as he gets into the car, having to bend forward to fit. Too anxious to do much else, you take the front seat, awkwardly avoiding Simon's eye as he gets onto the road.

"Put the radio on," Johnny whines from the backseat, not satisfied until Simon complies. You're unsure if it's on purpose but Johnny immediately begins to sing along poorly to the first pop song that comes on, and you watch Simon sigh.

"Does he do this often?" You ask curiously.

"Every damn time we're in the car, love. You were asleep for the last one."

"Oh." You both wince in tandem as his voice cracks. "Is it okay if-"

"Just say it."

"Is he bad... on purpose?" You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper, grateful for the space between shotgun and the backseat. You're rewarded with Simon laughing, a full-on belly laugh that sets butterflies ablaze in your stomach.

"Ha, no, I don't reckon he is."

The wine tasting is lovely and you thoroughly enjoy your company for real this time; no longer feeling like a third wheel the way you had at the beginning of the week. Maybe it's the alcohol emboldening you, but you find the courage to apologise for your whole outburst on Halloween, making Johnny's expression soften.

"Nae, it's okay, bonnie, we ken you go' a hard job, with all the wee ones. 'S only fair that ye get to scream ev'ry now an' again." He says like he had figured it out a long time before your apology. Simon just shrugs.

"'S really alright. And, y'know, you brought up some good points." He says calmly, casually, staring at you. You go rigid, immediately terrified.

"Um... really?" You ask weakly.

"Yeah," Johnny says, reaching across the table for your hand. You're immediately grateful that you had chosen a table closest to the back of the winery, the most secluded area, because you would hate for a stranger to watch you get put down gently. "C'mon." He nudges you up to your feet, taking your hand and leading you outside to the vineyard, Simon following silently behind you, eventually showing up again to your left.

"When ye said ye loved us," Johnny starts gently. "Did ye mean that?"

"U-um, well, I don't think I was in the right state of mind when I said that," you stutter out, immediately defensive. "I- uh, had a hard day of work. I think- Um, no, I didn't mean it, I was just angry and looking into stuff too much."

"Oh." Johnny seems to deflate, "well-" but he's cut off by Simon.

"That's shite and you know it," Simon says, staring daggers into you, making you stop in your tracks and subsequentially Johnny, too.

"Huh?"

"Tell me honestly right now that you don't love us."

"Well... Ah. Um, I don't?"

"Bonnie," Johnny pleads from behind you. "Say ye want this. Please." You swallow thickly, an uncomfortable mixture of nerves and nausea rising up your throat. "It's OK if ye don't, o' course, but don't lie. Please." Johnny's eyes are akin to a puppy's, big and pathetic and you feel a bit mean for lying earlier.

"Well..." You mumble, not realizing that Simon had stepped closer to you as your back was turned on him. "Well. I want this," you say, and no sooner than the words are out your mouth does Johnny pounce on you, your lips firmly against his own. Simon's arms wrap around your waist and rest on Johnny's hip, creating a comfortable sandwich.

Johnny's all smiles when he pulls away from you, and you can't help but smile a little back, tentatively, heart running a mile a minute. Simon presses a kiss to the top of your head, making you peer your head up at him.

"Thank you," he rumbles, content.

A feeling rises in your chest, one so powerful and all-encompassing that you can't feel your nausea anymore. It's still as scary as it had been in the Uber how many nights ago, but now it feels weaker. Conquerable.

And maybe you wouldn't hate yourself if you let it slip, just a tiny whisper, lost in the mass of their forms bracketing your own, but still there nonetheless:

"I love you."

<- back

[shifting-mariana]

why I’m starting to shift for longer time periods + shifting motivation

So, this is my first longer post. But it’s something I think may help many and yes I use some 2020 shift but not like the way they said it. But for this post I’ll be sharing my method for anyone who wants to use it but keep in mind it may not work for everyone!

MY SHIFTING METHOD:

I meditate or visual my dr with my favorite artist (ichiko aoba<3) and think about what I’ll do in my dr then I’ll get up and do whatever I feel like until I get tired.

2. Drink water. Ik 2020 shifting but!!!! They weren’t wrong but they weren’t right either bc when I get close to shifting it drains me a lot because I feel stronger than others an example of this is while you may feel like your lover is touching your arm faintly I can feel feel embraces even if it’s just day dreaming or i JUST started my method.

3. I have subliminals playing softly in the background of anything I’m doing so my subconscious can keep that motivation flowing..yk?

4. I go back to sleep and repeat “I will not end up in this reality I only have two choices (my dr and a different reality similar to here)” but I’ll say that until I feel like very very calm then I start counting my finger until I feel numb. Kinda like a comfort thing I do in my drs with any of my s/o’s whenever I freak out about something.

5. I let my mind roam until I’m stuck on that dr and I feel light weight and it feels like I’m just floating in nothing. When I shift I don’t usually feel it which is why I realize I shifted many times I just shifted back before I realized. So I always keep in my mind that when I get there this is gonna happen or that.

but every time I shift I focus on staying for a longer time (which is probably why I don’t post as much but I usually don’t anyways so it seems normal and when I ’got back’ nothing felt different) so I can get used to being in my dr and switching to different drs without coming back to this energy/vibration level that I’m on now.

me personally I keep my birthstone and my favorite crystals that have meaning to me around me when I attempt because it gives me a sense of relief and I’m not stressing about “do this step right now or u won’t shift “ it doesn’t matter..do the method upside down side ways, while doing splits idk but don’t let it stress you out bc if your stuck on what happening on this vibration frequency then you can’t get to your dr’s frequency.

Be patient with yourself. You know yourself better than anyone. You know what method may work for you better than the premade ones that worked for certain people. They are NOT you .. you’re not them and they’re not you. So what I do may work for you and it may not work for someone else. But don’t lose hope in getting to your dr for the first time or again if you’ve done it.

Don’t force away any intrusive thoughts. Ignore them and let them roam in your mind until they go away as you reach the frequency for you dr. We are all different in our own way so you may not feel or see those bright colorful lights like every one else but you are capable. WE are capable. We shifter have the power to see every timeline, story, show, movie, book, etc. But unlike those who imagine it.. We HAVE the chance to live it and giving that up because of doubts when you have the entire universe in your hands and the other shifter’s out there. We can see deceased family again. Are they gonna be exactly as you remember? Maybe not but the chance is there and to see someone I care about again is something I’m sure most people would want.

I made this post originally to say I am shifting longer and longer each time to prepare my self for my perma shift on June 1st. And even if I don’t shift that day (but I will) you have the chance to do it even before then and so do I so don’t let doubt or fear keep you from going somewhere some didn’t even know existed until a fucking AI told them. If they don’t believe YOU prove it to yourself so you will never feel as if you were lied to because yes shifting is real and it may be the best thing that ever happened to me or you. You have the tool to shift and that’s just you. be you. Embrace you. You got this!

No matter if u believe in the multiverse theory, frequencies, or whatever you still have the power and ability to shift so use it. See that best friend. See that bf/gf. See that one character that practically saved your life. See your comfort character without a screen.

you can and will shift and even if it’s 7 years from now, don’t stop trying even if it’s long breaks from it. Which is very helpful to regain your energy after shifting. But besides that I hope you shift and if it’s tonight or months or years from now you still have a time and it WILL come.

— shifting Mariana 2025.

[silentsneezes]

as promised, here’s part two to the allergic j/ayce fic !! it is rather nsfw, so keep that in mind before reading. 1.55k

cw for a blowjob, though this fic is more about the buildup to it (and the act itself is just summarized, not written). mess (not in great detail, but still). and ofc sneezing

It doesn’t take long for the couple to get back to Jayce’s flat in the academy despite his frequent need to stop and sneeze. Jayce nearly stumbles over himself a few times, his clumsiness accentuated by his teary eyes and the incessant itch buzzing in his sinuses.

After fumbling with his keys for a moment, his breath catching in his throat as he tries to hold back, Jayce manages to unlock the door. Viktor walks wordlessly to the living room, seating himself on the small– but undeniably comfortable– couch. He props his crutch against the nearby coffee table, watching as Jayce lingers in the hall, his eyebrows knit together as his breath comes in short, desperate gasps. He holds a hand loosely in front of his nose, his handkerchief sodden and forgotten in his pocket.

“Having some trouble?” Viktor murmurs, unable to resist the temptation to tease Jayce.

“It whhH- won’t… heh- hhHHH- hhDTSXXCHHHew. snf, finally,” Jayce mutters in exasperation, having struggled with that sneeze for a good minute before feeling relief. Relief that is, of course, short lived. His nose is intent on expelling whatever unknown allergen he came in contact with, “hhH’eh’eHRRRDSCHHh’huh!”

The sneeze grates against his throat, leaving a film of spray against his bare palm. He groans, wiping his hand along his pant-leg. Typically, he’d try to maintain some semblance of decorum, but in the presence of Viktor, he doesn't bother. Besides, it’s unlikely he’d be able to keep any ounce of control even with great effort.

Jayce sighs and steps closer to his partner, moving to sit beside him on the couch, but stopping in his tracks as he hears a quiet tutting. He looks down at Viktor, recognizing the sound– no, the command– and waiting. Sure enough, his obedience is granted with the touch he’s been awaiting.

Viktor slips two slim fingers through the belt loop nearest Jayce’s zipper, tugging his partner closer. Jayce submits willingly, swallowing a moan as he steps forwards, allowing Viktor to place a kiss to his hip.

“V- hh- hHh- you’re -hh- hhHNGSXCHhhew! you’re- hhH- hh…,” Jayce tries to speak, but his voice is lost in hitching breaths. He can feel heat swell in the depths of his stomach. He moves to rub his nose, but Viktor’s free hand catches his wrist, holding it tightly as he tuts again.

Jayce can feel moisture slipping over his upper lip, but he doesn’t attempt to deny Viktor’s hold, “hhH- I’m g-hh-gonna- hh… hhH- I need- hhhhHRSZHCHhew- hhHGSXHCHh!”

Viktor keeps his fingers held around Jayce’s belt buckle, shivering as he feels the spray cast over his face and neck, “Bless you,” he purrs in praise, eliciting another moan from Jayce.

“We should attend to that nose of yours, yes?” Viktor prompts, looking up at Jayce from his seat, opening his legs as he does so. Jayce nods eagerly, his pants beginning to tent at the promise of Viktor’s touch, his taste.

“Good.”

Viktor tugs his fingers downwards, ignoring the pinching of his skin against the belt loop. Jayce does as expected, dropping to his knees in front of Viktor.

Viktor shifts, placing one on Jayce’s neck and tangling the other in his dark hair, “you look a mess,” he murmurs, leaning forwards to nip at Jayce’s ear.

Jayce snuffles against his running nose, attempting to rub the buzzing appendage against his shoulder. Viktor is quick to hold Jayce’s chin, forcing him to look up as his finger runs over Jayce’s upper lip, “you know better than that.”

Jayce continues sniffling, wrinkling his nose and whining as it twitches again, “hheh… hh- V- hh- Viktor- heh-“

Viktor moans as Jayce’s pleading intermixes with his hitching breaths, feeling his pants tighten further as Jayce moves to rub his nose along Viktor’s inner thigh. His hold on Jayce’s hair tightens, forcing his head closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Use your words,” Viktor prompts, though it’s more of an order than anything.

“Mnghh… Can I- hh- can- heh… c-hh- hhH- hhHDSZZCHhh!” Jayce buries his nose against Viktor’s inner thigh, taking a desperate breath before a second, “hhHRRSXCHH’huh,” tears through him, forcing his head further against Viktor’s thigh.

“Bless you,” Viktor murmurs, feeling his heartbeat quicken at the sight of the damp splotch left on his pants. He scratches his fingers along Jayce’s scalp gently, smirking as Jayce nuzzles against his touch, “to answer your question. Yes, you can.” Viktor permits.

Jayce starts to unbutton Viktor’s pants, his fingers slipping the first button through with ease. Jayce halts as he hears a reprimanding, “not like that,” from Viktor. Jayce looks up, his eyes alight as he registers the meaning of the order. He nods, shifting closer on his knees.

Jayce takes the second button between his teeth and twists his head to the right. He grunts as it stays put, clenching his jaw and tugging his head up.

“Good,” Viktor purrs as Jayce succeeds in freeing it, watching with rapt attention as Jayce moves on to the third and final button. He feels his pants strain against their tight tenting as Jayce’s nose twitches.

Determined, Jayce pushes through the itch, taking the third button between his teeth and beginning his work, “hhh- hh'uh… hH-“ Jayce’s hitching intermixes with his focussed huffs, scooching closer again as he loses his grip on the plastic.

“hhHNGSZXHCHh!” Jayce’s head bobs down, his nose pressed against Viktor’s pantsed crotch as his shoulders shudder, “hh- hhH- hhH’eh’SZXHHHhew!”

Viktor’s hand continues its gentle caress of Jayce’s scalp. He leans forward to murmur, “Bud’te zdorovy,” his accent thick with the russian pronunciation of ‘bless you.’

Jayce moans, sniffling against the mess clinging to his nose. He wipes his nose against Viktor’s inner thigh, leaving a damp trail, but succeeding in clearing his nose enough to continue his work.

Jayce’s teeth find Viktor’s button again, latching on and attempting to maneuver it. His breathing is labored, huffing as he fails to free the button from its hold. Viktor waits patiently, his arousal heightening with each passing moment.

The third button proves to be trickier, but after a few minutes Jayce manages to pop it open, looking up at Viktor expectantly. Viktor is happy to oblige with a hum of praise, “Well done, милый.”

Jayce bows his head again, holding the zipper between his teeth and tugging his head down. It takes a few attempts, and the taste of metal lingers on his tongue, but it’s well worth it as Viktor’s pants finally fall open.

Jayce is quick to kiss along the newly exposed fabric of Viktor’s underwear, ignoring the ache in his knees. He moans as he feels Viktor’s grip on his hair tighten, panting as his arousal increases.

He feels the buzzing in his sinuses return, unable to catch the whine that slips out. Viktor keeps Jayce held in place, willing him to continue even as his breath hitches, and Jayce does exactly that.

He takes the waistband of Viktor’s boxers between his teeth, working to free his partner’s hardness. It’s difficult, eliciting pants and moans from both him and Viktor.

Jayce shudders with a sudden, “hhHDSZHCHh’uh!” spraying Viktor’s boxers and leaving him sniffling in the aftermath of the expulsion.

Viktor moans again, the sound only encouraging Jayce to continue his efforts. As soon as Jayce manages to declothe Viktor, his mouth is licking and kissing every bit of skin possible. He starts with the mole on Viktor’s inner left thigh, working his way up and leaving little hickeys along his partner’s pale skin.

Even as his allergic reaction persists, Jayce finds himself so eager to please Viktor, he hardly notices the tickling sensation in his sinuses. That is, until his body forces him to acknowledge its discomfort, snapping him forwards with a harsh, “hhHRRSHCHhew.”

The first sneeze, buried against Viktor’s crotch, is quickly followed by a second resounding, “hhHRSZHCHhh’guh!”

“Bless you Jayce,” Viktor purrs, his voice shaking with pleasure as he fights to suppress a moan.

“Th- hh- thank you,” Jayce’s response to Viktor’s blessing is unnecessary by any means, and yet Jayce insists on pleasantries. Unlike his usual polite behavior, typically in the presence of other counselors, the softly uttered ‘thank you’ is purely for his and Viktor’s indulgence.

His mouth working with well known expertise, Jayce attends to Viktor’s needs, finally getting the taste he worked oh so diligently for. He’s only encouraged by the sounds he manages to elicit from Viktor; sounds only he, Jayce, has the privilege to hear— no, to cause.

Multiple times, Jayce is forced to pause his work and sneeze, but he eagerly resumes once the fits run their course. Viktor moans his blessings every time, murmuring gentle praise after he finishes.

He cups Jayce’s face with a slim hand, tilting his chin up so he can see the sheen of sweat on Jayce’s skin, “you did well, любимый. Always so indulgent,” he praises.

Jayce shifts on his knees, reminding Viktor that he’s been in that position for long enough. Viktor hums his acknowledgement, and Jayce moves to stand, his knees slightly sore but his body still thrumming with arousal.

Viktor guides Jayce to sit beside him, a slim hand finding its way to Jayce’s inner thigh. “Now, why don’t I attend to you,” he murmurs, unfastening Jayce’s belt with ease.

aaand that’s a wrap. i hope someone else can enjoy this! i definitely plan on writing more allergic j/ayce (potentially in the forge)

as always, any comments, reblogs, and tags are much appreciated! i love seeing people’s reactions to my writing

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (30)

***

Reporting to the office takes longer than Vander would like. They spend too long standing over maps of the mine, trying to guess the route they took to get out. It's nearly shift end by the time the supervisors are satisfied and let them go.

Vander just wants to go to bed, to close the door on that little room of theirs and ignore everything outside. But Silco stops when they get to the mess hall.

"You should let your friends know you survived," he says. He hides his scratched fingers in the pockets of his jacket.

"And what are you doing?"

"I should check on the foundlings. There might have been survivors."

Because most of the workers on level three were kids. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer you weren't there," Silco says with the kind of honesty that comes from complete exhaustion. "We might have to take someone to the river. That would break your heart."

Vander leans in for a hug, holds Silco close. Cheek to cheek, he says softly, "Pretty sure it would break yours too."

"I'm far better at hiding it," Silco replies and Vander can see his point. Vander's never been good at hiding what he feels; it shows on his face and in his voice. If the kids need someone controlled and certain, someone to do what's needed, Silco can hold a steady face.

"Come meet me in the mess hall afterwards?" Vander asks and Silco nods. Maybe the right thing to do would be to run after him, to insist on helping, but Vander’s relieved to avoid it. He's not in a rush to bury teenagers.

Instead, he heads to the mess hall and finds himself tackled by Felicia. It's instinct to catch her.

"Vander! You're okay!"

"A little bruised, but in one piece," Vander says, putting her down. "We got back this afternoon."

Felicia blinks up at him, eyes soft and concerned. "And Silco?"

"The two of us," Vander says and she sags in relief. "We had to dig most of the night, but we made it. Did anyone else…?"

Felicia shakes her head. "Nearly all of level three collapsed. A few miners made it back to the elevator as it came down, but everyone else was lost."

That's nearly two dozen people. Half of the foundling bunks will be empty tonight. Vander has a twinge of conscience, wondering if he should have gone with Silco, and then Benzo's voice is thundering across the courtyard.

"Vander! More lives than a cat, this one!" Benzo has one black eye and an ugly purple bruise across his cheek.

"What happened to your face?" Vander asks, even as Connol walks up with a fat lip and a matching black eye. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"With enforcers," Felicia answers sharply. "These two idiots didn't believe the company when they said level three was unsafe. They tried to sneak in and override the lock on the elevator, and found a bunch of enforcers instead."

"Felicia's just mad that we didn't tell her the plan," Connol says. It looks like it hurts to talk. "It's only because she was arguing with the supervisors, trying to convince them to let us try digging you out."

Vander grins at his friends, bruised and furious on his behalf. Who would have risked their lives to try to save him. "Sounds like the first round's on me. I'll buy the drinks and you can tell me about the daring rescue attempt."

Vander gets to hear the whole story. That it was a handful of miners that complained, not just Felicia, when they announced no rescue attempt. That the supervisors declared it unsafe and locked the elevator, so even if they had managed to dig out that direction, they still would have been trapped that night.

While the supervisors were being yelled at by angry miners, Benzo and Connol took their gear into the mine and pried open the elevator controls. They'd disabled the elevator lock and were working on the grating lock when five enforcers marched on the scene.

"As you can see," Benzo says, nodding at Connol's face, "we weren't stupid enough to fight back."

They all know what happens if you land a lucky punch on an enforcer. A quick transfer to Stillwater and if you're lucky, they'll let you back out in a few years' time.

In turn, Vander tells them about digging their way out and the hidden shrine they found down there. "I think it was Janna," Vander says, shrugging. "It was old. Had an inscription on the wall. Zaun."

Benzo takes a big swallow of his ale. "Could be. My granddad prayed to Janna, and he said his granddad did before him. Maybe people have been praying to her for centuries."

"I'd offer to show you guys but I don't know if we'd find our way back. I stopped paying attention to how many turns we took."

"Pity," Connol says, finishing his drink and standing up. "Does everyone want another?"

Felicia nods, and then curiously watches Connol walk away. She spots Vander noticing, and shrugs it off. "What an idiot. Fighting with enforcers."

Vander grins at her. "Is that what you really think of him?"

"Oh, look," she says, distracting him from his teasing. "It's your other half."

Silco stands in the doorway, scanning the crowd. Anyone else might see the proud tilt of his chin, the judgemental twist of his mouth and assume it's just Silco, mean and cranky as ever. Vander sees something brittle in his expression, like he's holding everything together by willpower alone. "I think that's my cue to leave."

Felicia stands up to let him walk past, and then follows Vander while Benzo protects their table.

"Felicia," Silco says smoothly, giving her a nod. "Good to see you."

Silco looks stunned when Felicia bounces forward and wraps her arms around him. Freezes in place.

"We're glad you're not dead," Felicia says, giving him one more squeeze and then stepping back. "Really."

"Me, too," Silco says wryly.

Felicia smiles, bright and charming. "I mean, can you imagine how Vander would mope around if you hadn't made it out? He'd be insufferable."

"I'll keep that in mind," Silco promises. "But if you'll excuse us, it's been a very long day."

Vander ignores the look Felicia shoots at him. Sometimes Silco – with his sharp mind and love of books – talks like a Piltie and it puts everyone on edge.

"See you tomorrow," Vander says and leads Silco away before Felicia says anything. When the noise of the mess hall is safely behind them, he asks, "Are you okay?"

Silco presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head. They walk back through the old mine, picking their way back carefully through the tunnels, and don't say a thing.

Even when the door is closed behind them and safely latched, Silco only says, "I'm so tired."

"Then let's go to bed," Vander says and leads him to sheets that smell of them, human warmth and animal sweat. He pulls Silco against him and holds him tight.

***

[rikabluejay]

MDNI!!!!!

✎Chocolat Aphrodisiaque

Pairing: BFF!Jake x BFF!femreader | college au one-shot

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiac chocolate, pinv, unprotected sex(wrap it up people), teasing, rough sex, overstimulation, friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: this is my first time writing a story and posting it😭 low key kinda scared, please drop suggestions if you have any. Feedbacks are appreciated🫶

Summary✨

What starts as a harmless experiment with aphrodisiac chocolate soon turns into a night of passion neither Y/N nor Jake can ignore. As their long-standing friendship blurs into something more intense, they’re forced to confront the dangerous line between desire and boundaries.

Half a Piece of Chocolate

A small, innocent piece of chocolate- that's all it took to land you in this situation. Jake was now between your legs, his hair tangled in your fingers, and your moans filled the room like there was no tomorrow.

"Y/N!" Jake's voice echoed down the hallway as he burst into your room, phone in hand, and practically leaped onto your bed. He shoved the screen in your face with the excitement of a kid showing off a new toy.

"I saw this TikTok, and we have to try it!”

You blinked at him, unimpressed, until the words "aphrodisiac chocolate" on the screen caught your eye.

"You're joking," you deadpanned. "We said last time was the last time, Jake. The. Last. Time."

Jake's grin didn't falter. "C'mon, Y/N. It's for science. And TikTok never lies."

You sighed, recalling how "science" and TikTok had landed you in very compromising positions before—literally. This wasn't the first time your best friend had pitched some wild idea, and somehow, it always ended with the two of you tangled up in sheets, promising never to cross that line again. Yet here you were. Again.

It didn't take much convincing, as usual. Now, you sat across from Jake, watching him break the chocolate bar in half.

"The instructions said it takes about thirty minutes to kick in," he explained, handing you your piece.

The chocolate melted on your tongue, rich and slightly bitter, and you waited.

At first, nothing.

But soon, your thoughts began to spiral. Was Jake always this attractive? Or was the chocolate messing with your head? You hated to admit it, but Jake wasn't just hot—he was the hottest guy on campus. And he was your best friend. It didn't even make sense how someone like him ended up in your life.

Before you could dwell on it further, Jake's hands slid up your thighs slowly, teasingly, as his eyes stayed locked on yours. The atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation, the chocolate's effects kicking in, making your pulse race. His pupils were blown wide, and you could see the same desire reflected in his gaze that you were desperately trying to ignore.

"Please, Y/N," he rasped, his voice raw with need. "I can't wait any longer. I need you so bad."

You nodded before you even realized what you were doing, your body betraying your mind's last attempt at resistance. As soon as the approval left your lips, Jake moved, not wasting a second. He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed your neck, his hands sliding beneath your hips to pull you closer. You arched into him instinctively, already desperate for more.

Then, his lips descended lower, trailing soft kisses down your chest, over your ribs, before he finally reached the edge of your panties. His breath tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and when he pulled the fabric aside, you gasped.

His fingers brushed your inner thighs, caressing your skin gently before he finally pressed his lips against your clit. The first lick was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment. You moaned loudly, unable to keep the sounds from escaping as his tongue flicked against you with just the right amount of pressure. The chocolate's effects were hitting you hard now, making everything feel more intense, more alive.

"Jake," you breathed, grabbing his hair as your hips moved involuntarily to meet his tongue. "Please don't stop..."

He smirked against your skin before diving back in, licking, sucking, and teasing you in ways that made your body tremble. His tongue worked relentlessly, the pressure building in waves as you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

With every stroke, you felt your control slip away. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you still as he feasted on you, never giving you a chance to catch your breath. Your grip on his hair tightened, and he moaned against you, the sound only adding to the heat between your legs.

When his fingers joined his mouth, you cried out in surprise, but it was pure pleasure. Two fingers slid into you with ease, curling and thrusting in rhythm with his tongue, and you swore you saw stars. The sensation of both his mouth and hands on you was overwhelming, and it didn't take long before you felt yourself spiraling toward the edge.

"Jake, I'm so close," you gasped, barely able to form words through the pleasure. "Don't stop... please..."

But he didn't stop. Instead, he pushed deeper, his fingers moving faster, his tongue relentless as you finally shattered beneath him. Your body tensed, your legs shaking as you came with a loud moan, your hands clutching at his hair as if grounding yourself. He didn't let up, riding out your orgasm with skilled movements that made your head spin.

As your body started to calm, Jake slowly pulled away, kissing his way up your body, his hands on your hips guiding you into a new position.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was positioning himself between your legs, his body hovering over yours as he looked down at you with an intensity that made your heart race. "You're so fucking hot, Y/N," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "And I'm not done with you yet."

Before you could even respond, he was pushing into you, filling you in one swift motion. The stretch was almost too much, and you gasped, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure you'd just experienced. But Jake wasn't giving you time to adjust—his pace was relentless from the start.

He thrust into you hard, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room as your nails dug into his back, your body instinctively moving with him. His pace was frantic, almost desperate, as if he was trying to chase something, some elusive release that would give him peace.

But the only peace you were finding was in the heat of his body against yours, the connection so deep that you couldn't remember where his skin ended and yours began.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his eyes dark with need. "You feel so good, so fucking tight."

You could feel him hitting every inch of you, each thrust deep and purposeful, as your body started to respond again, the pleasure building once more. You couldn't stop the way your hips met his with each stroke, your own need pushing you to meet him halfway.

"Jake... slower..." you begged, but your voice came out breathless. You were already overstimulated, your senses on fire, but the need for him was overwhelming.

He paused, just for a moment, as if to give you a chance to breathe. His forehead rested against yours, his breaths coming in ragged pants. "Tell me if it's too much," he whispered, though you could hear the edge in his voice.

But it wasn't too much. It wasn't enough. You nodded, and with a low growl, he resumed, pushing even deeper. His thrusts were harder, more frantic, and it wasn't long before you felt your body tightening again, every inch of you screaming for release.

The tension in your body snapped, and you came hard, your back arching as the waves of pleasure hit you like a freight train. Jake followed immediately after, his moans mingling with yours as he spilled inside you, filling you with a primal, possessive force that had your body trembling beneath him.

When the room finally went quiet, the only sound left was your labored breathing, both of you too spent to move. Jake stayed inside you, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. The sheets were tangled around your bodies, the aftermath of the intense, unforgettable night leaving you both breathless and drained. Your chest rose and fell with each exhale, the aftershocks of your release still rippling through your body. Jake slowly pulled out and rolled to your side laying beside you. You couldn't quite shake the lingering warmth, both physical and emotional, that Jake had left behind.

You turned your head to face him, your thoughts still a whirlwind, and for a split second, you forgot about the promise. The agreement you'd both made—the one you both swore you'd never break again— seemed distant, almost irrelevant in the haze of what just happened.

Jake's gaze met yours, dark eyes full of something unspoken. There was a fleeting moment where you could feel his pulse quickening again, the same undeniable pull that had dragged you both into this mess to begin with. He didn't look at you like his best friend anymore, and you didn't look at him the same way either. The line, that fine thread holding your friendship together, was fraying with every touch, every kiss, every moment like this.

His hand reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch tender but heavy with intention. "You know, we weren't supposed to cross this line again, right?" His voice was soft, almost like a question, but the tension was palpable.

You shifted under his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in, but it didn't feel like the same boundary anymore. Maybe it was the chocolate, maybe it was the aphrodisiac’s lingering effects, or maybe it was just the undeniable truth of the moment: the lines between friendship and something more were irreparably blurred.

"Jake..." You paused, trying to find the words, but your voice faltered. The thoughts swirling in your head were a mix of guilt, excitement, and desire. The truth was, you didn't know if you wanted to go back to what you were before—the friends who swore they'd never cross this line again—or if you wanted to give in to whatever was building between you both now.

Jake's fingers traced over your arm, sending sparks across your skin. "We said it was the last time," he whispered, almost like a challenge, the intensity in his eyes matching the desire in his voice. "But I don't think either of us meant it, did we?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your body betraying your mind. It was so easy to get lost in the way he was looking at you-so much more than the playful, teasing best friend you had known all this time. There was hunger there, but also something deeper, something you couldn't quite name.

You swallowed, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know anymore."

The air between you two was thick with unspoken words, emotions tangled in a web of confusion and desire. Everything that had happened tonight—the promises broken, the boundaries crossed—was too much to ignore. But the unspoken question remained: where did you go from here?

Jake let out a low, frustrated sigh, his face inches from yours, breath mingling with yours. He seemed to be struggling with the same question, torn between what was right and what felt so damn good.

"You're not just my best friend anymore, Y/ N," Jake muttered, his voice hoarse. "I don't think I can pretend that we are."

His words sent a shock through you, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe. What did that mean? What did he mean? Could you go back to being just friends after everything that had just happened, or was this a turning point in your relationship, an irreversible change?

You wanted to say something, to put some sort of label on it, to figure out what the hell was going on. But you couldn't. You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, and the only thing you knew for sure was that tonight had changed everything. You weren't just friends anymore.

Jake shifted, moving closer, but not to touch you-at least not yet. It was as if he was giving you space, allowing you to come to terms with what had just transpired. You could feel his gaze on you, though, waiting for an answer. And you realized, maybe he wasn't the only one who didn't know how to move forward.

"I don't want to pretend anymore either," you whispered, your words hanging in the air like a confession, a declaration.

The silence that followed was loaded, but not uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a shift, a moment where both of you acknowledged what had been simmering under the surface for so long. The barrier was gone now-there was no going back, no un-feeling what you felt in that moment. The line had been crossed, and neither of you seemed ready to rebuild it.

Jake’s lips ghosted over yours, teasing and soft, and as his hands brushed over your body once again, you didn’t pull away. This time, you didn’t want to.

There was no going back. You had both blurred that line beyond recognition, and somehow, neither of you were in a hurry to fix it.

"You know," Jake whispered, his voice low and rasping, "the night's still young." His lips curled into a smirk, and you knew exactly what he meant.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, you didn't have to say anything. The next moments unfolded in a blur of heated kisses, your body responding to his like it had a mind of its own. The night was far from over. More would come, and neither of you had the intention of stopping anytime soon.

As your lips met again, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your heart racing. You managed to whisper, "So... do you think the aphrodisiac worked?" Your voice was playful, but the way his hands were roaming over your body told a different story.

Jake's grin only deepened, and with a smoldering look in his eyes, he pressed his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Oh, I think it worked... way more than I expected."

You pulled him closer, your lips meeting again, the room seemed to hum with anticipation. And just like that, the night stretched out before you both, filled with promises of more. More than just this, more than just a slip-up. It was clear— this night was just beginning.

[headachecat]

Fellow Rookanis here, and Chaosfay on AO3. Here's a fee writing prompts to play with or combine:

"I've never kissed someone with a beard before."

"How did you keep the beard so neat in the Ossuary? Did you bathe and shave before taking on the Ventori?"

The first time Lucanis reaches out and comforts Rook.

The first time Lucanis reaches out and comforts Rook.

As a principle, Rook did not get upset.  It was one of those things Harding shared with Lucanis when he first joined the team. It was just the five of them at the time, and the Scout felt like it was her duty to fill him in. Bellara’s mind was in the clouds, but, by the Maker, was she brilliant in her expertise. Neve was always on the case, chasing another lead with a snarky comment locked and loaded. And Rook? There was not a moment a smile went absent from her lips. Not a second of doubt they couldn’t do it. There was simply nothing that could make her waver, make her break. And definitely nothing that could make her cry.

They had just saved Treviso from Ghilan’nain’s dragon, and Lucanis could have sworn he had never felt such a profound sense of gratefulness, a warmth that filled his heart and refused to fade for the first time in a very long time. That morning, he lingered in the pantry, scribbling away notes of thanks. The thoughts spilled from his mind and onto the parchment, words cascading like an untamed river, each stroke of his pen a desperate attempt to capture what words could barely hold. The scratching of the pen sent a delicate vibration up his fingers, as he crossed out yet another sentence, unsatisfied. The ink bled through the paper, leaving faint shadows on the pages beneath, echoes of thoughts too vast to remain contained. It seeped onto his skin, black stains blooming across his fingertips, as if to tattoo his feelings for the world to see. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rook’s face –not her smile, bright and reassuring as always, but her eyes. They held everything: a will that could not be bent, compassion that refused to falter, care that brought his mind to her more and more recently nowadays.

’We will go to Treviso. We will defend it, whatever it takes. I promise.’

He felt a deep, aching pain in his chest with every beat of his heart. He owed her so much – more than he could ever hope to repay in a lifetime. His family, his home, the very fabric of his existence, all tethered to a singular choice. Words danced on the edge of his mind, but none ever felt worthy, none ever seemed to measure up.

How could he possibly tell her that she had saved his life? Not just the moments he cherished, the memories he had yet to create, but quite possibly his literal life as well. The enormity of it threatened to swallow him whole. How do you tell someone that they are the reason your world still turns? No words felt right. No words ever could.

It was just Lucanis in the Lighthouse, its ancient walls accompanying his quiet solitude as he awaited everyone’s return. That is, if you ignored the persisting presence of the demon lodged in his head. To keep his hands and mind from wandering too far into uneasy thoughts, he busied himself in the kitchen, the simple rhythms of preparation soothing him. When the time for the meeting finally drew near, and Rook was due to arrive back from Minrathous, Lucanis prepared something small for her. A cup of tea, her favourite, and a plate of Nevarran plums. Travel was exhausting, after all. She would be hungry, surely.

He placed them on the coffee table in her room, before retreating to the library’s upper level to await the others. Barely a minute went by when the sounds of boots on stone echoed up the tower’s cold, stone walls. The team had arrived, and Lucanis moved to meet them at the centre. But as their figures emerged into view, his heart sank, the stillness in the air pressing down on him. The clinking of metal weapons accompanied his companions’ slow steps, the silence so heavy it seemed to absorb every sound.

When his gaze fell on Rook, the ache in his chest deepened. She stood by the seating area, her usual energy absent, her presence subdued in a way that felt foreign. Her staff slipped from her fingers, dropping against the chair with a hollow clink that echoed in the quiet. There was no trace of her laughter, no sign of the effortless confidence that usually radiated from her when she stood with her hands on her hips, her head held high, a spark of hope lighting her every movement.

Instead, she turned with heaviness, nodding briefly to Harding and Bellara as they passed her, their quiet words barely breaking the stillness. Davrin appeared next, emerging from the staircase leading to the Eluvian room, his form tense, his sword clutched tightly in his hand as though it grounded him. And then Rook’s eyes finally met Lucanis.

The Crow lifted his hand in a gentle greeting. Rook cleared her throat, her voice breaking through the thickness of the air. ‘Right. I suppose we should talk about it.’ She was being careful, navigating a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. 

By the entrance, Bellara stood with her hand resting against her lips, her composure strained and delicate. Lucanis wasn’t certain, but it seemed as though she was fighting back tears. Her shoulders trembled faintly, and Harding, standing close beside her, reached out to pet her arm in a quiet gesture of comfort. The Scout let out a sigh, heavy with shared grief, as if trying to soothe both Bellara and herself at once. ‘Neve is staying in Minrathous for now,’ Rook continued, her tone steadier for a moment, ’The Shadow Dragons… could not defend the city as well as I had hoped.’

Lucanis turned his attention back to Rook, studying her carefully. She placed her hands on her hips, a familiar pose that should have felt reassuring, but this time it didn’t. Her fingers curled around her armour just a little too tightly, the slight tremor in her hands betraying the tension she was trying to mask. It was as though she were forcing herself to embody the unshakable presence they all relied on, struggling to be who they needed her to be. Who they expected her to be.

For a fleeting second, Lucanis’s thoughts drifted back to Harding’s words, her voice ringing in his memory. Rook doesn’t break. But now, standing before her, he couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt creeping into his mind, the uneasy certainty that for the first time in a very long time, Rook had reached her limit.

‘Please, rest well. We will discuss next steps once everyone’s ready,’ Rook said, her voice soft, her smile tender but weary. She followed Bellara and Harding with her gaze as they made their way out of the room, the quiet shuffle of their departure accompanied by murmured words Lucanis couldn’t catch. Davrin lingered, giving Rook a short, shallow bow, a gesture of respect. As he passed her, he slowed, ‘In war, victory, Rook. Whatever it takes.’

Rook nodded in response, a flicker of acknowledgment passing between them, and the Warden turned, his footsteps echoing faintly as he trailed out of the library. The door creaked shut behind him, the sound sharp against the quiet. A draft followed in his wake, a whisper of cold air slipping into the room.

Rook closed her eyes as if bracing for something more – perhaps the whistle of the wind, the mournful howl that might signal an ending to this meeting. But no sound came. The Lighthouse stood resolute, unmoving, the last steady thing around them. Perhaps, in the face of so much loss and uncertainty, the Lighthouse was all they had.

‘Rook,’ Lucanis stepped forward quietly, all his carefully thought-out words evaporating the moment he opened his mouth. ‘I wish to say…’ Rook opened her eyes, studying him silently. Her smile lingered on her lips, but Lucanis could see now what he hadn’t before – it no longer reached her eyes. It was faint, her usual warmth dulled into something distant. It struck him like a brushstroke gone astray on a painting, a flaw only noticeable when you looked closely. Perfectly devastating.

‘I wish to thank you,’ Lucanis exhaled at last. The words felt small in the grandness of the space. ‘Thank you for saving my home. It is… perhaps the only piece of me I know anymore, after the Ossuary. And I am eternally grateful for that. I am at your service, whatever you wish of me.’

Rook’s smile widened slightly, a practiced kindness softening her expression as she stepped forward. She reached out, her fingers wrapping gently around his arm in a reassuring squeeze. ‘Of course.’ she said, her tone light, almost effortless. But Lucanis’s brow furrowed as he caught it – a faint tremble in her hand, a subtle shiver in her fingertips she tried to hide.

‘Perhaps a dinner?’ she added, her voice suggesting joke, joined by a soft laugh that seemed uncertain, rough around the edges. It was her usual lighthearted way, a balm she offered to ease tension, but it felt different now. There was something about her in that moment, something distant and foreign. The jest hung in the air, but it didn’t settle, like a fine layer of sand swept up by the sea breeze, abrasive and unsettling. Rook shifted, her eyes flickering for a moment. They both felt it. The air grew thick, charged with an electric hum. Lucanis felt it like a shiver running down his spine, a familiar sensation that tugged at his instincts, pulling at his focus. Spite emerged from the dimness, his translucent form barely visible in the faint glow of the crystal light. With a long, deliberate breath, Spite let out a soft hiss of disgust, his face contorting in a sneer. ‘Regret,’ he spat, the word hanging in the air like a foul stench. He threw himself into the nearby chair with an exaggerated motion, ‘Terrible smell.’ Lucanis felt the coldness spread in his chest, a creeping chill that began as a subtle tightness and quickly grew into something more suffocating. It trailed down through his waist, his legs, his feet, burning with an icy dread that wrapped itself around him like chains. Regret. Fear. Doubt. A prison of its own. It was a familiar weight, one that clawed its way through his thoughts, dredging up the dark memories he had fought so hard to bury. The sleepless nights in the Ossuary, when exhaustion blurred the edges of his mind and the wet rags he wrapped around himself did little to ease the cold. He had tried to shield his ears from the screams of the prisoners, but they haunted him, unrelenting. Why them and not you? Why do you deserve to live? The questions crashed through his mind like thunder, each one louder than the last. You should have seen it coming. You should have killed yourself before they took you, like a real Crow would.

Lucanis reached out instinctively, his hand settling gently on Rook’s wrist, meant to offer reassurance, but as soon as his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt the tension ripple through her arm. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak. But the words never came. Instead, her breath hitched, and she held it, looking down at her feet. 

’Forgive me,’ she breathed out shortly, And then, in one swift motion, she pulled away from him, stepping past him with a sudden urgency that left him standing, still and unsure. Her staff clattered to the floor with a sharp, jarring sound, the clang ringing in Lucanis’ ears like a discordant note. Rook didn’t look back at it.

For a split second, Lucanis stood frozen, his heart beating in the rhythm of the weapon swaying on the stone. And then, with a sudden clarity, a single thought tumbled through his mind. She did not deserve to go through it alone. He stepped aside, his movement a blur – faster, swifter, determined He blocked Rook’s path, arms wide as if to contain her. She gasped, her body crashing against his, and in that instant, his embrace closed around her, tight and sure. They swayed for a heartbeat, finding balance, and Lucanis felt her legs tremble beneath her, threatening to give way.

A cry tore through the vast expanse of the library, its sound so raw and piercing, it seemed to shake the very air – a wail so haunting it could have been mistaken for the roar of a beast. They fell to their knees, drawn together, clinging to each other in desperate need of support. Rook’s body quivered, tensing as the waves of torment crashed through her, relentless and suffocating. Lucanis felt her scream vibrate against his shoulder, her fingers digging into the back of his vest, sharp as claws, desperate and frantic. Her pain consumed him, a fire that threatened to burn away all else. For a moment, he feared her. No, that wasn’t quite right. He feared for her. 

His hand drifted gently to the back of Rook’s neck, her curls winding around his fingers, as if they sought to hold him back, to keep him away from her. He wouldn’t let them. The warmth of her skin radiated beneath his touch, a subtle heat that made his fingertips dance over the smoothness of it, feeling the soft rise of goosebumps in their path. He began to caress her, slow and tender, as though time itself had stilled around them. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the side of her temple, grounding himself in the sensation of her presence. Guiding her breath. Reassuring her racing mind. He allowed her the space to cry her pain away, to take her time, to steady herself – there was nothing of greater urgency. They didn’t talk, for there was nothing to be said. Everything he wished to ask, to explore, to understand, it was all in her voice. In the shudder of her body, the pain of her emotion.

He couldn’t say how long it had been before Rook’s sobs began to soften, the raggedness of her breath gradually easing into quiet sniffles. Her hands had found their place around his waist, gripping him with vulnerability he hasn’t seen from her before, while her fingers traced the edge of his vest in a slow, absent rhythm, as if the motion itself were a grounding force, bringing her slowly back to herself. Caught in the moment, he found his own fingers weaving through the strands of her hair, his touch gentle, natural and tender. His index finger brushed the delicate curve of her ear, the softest contact, yet it made her ear twitch in response. The sensation surprised him, and he pulled his hand away just a bit too fast. He opened his eyes.

Rook lifted her head, her tear-streaked face flushed and red, her eyes still glistening. Lucanis could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek, unsteady and shaky. Yet he refused to pull away. He would stay until she was ready, until she found her footing again. Until she decided it was enough. She reached up, her fingers trembling as they brushed against her ear, a quiet, broken chuckle escaping her lips. It was a sound that was more of a sigh than anything else, exhausted, vulnerable  humour. ‘It does that sometimes... like a cat’s ear.’ Her gaze wandered over his face, lingering on the way their bodies were entwined, the intimate closeness that neither had expected. ‘Forgive me. Again. I’m uncertain what happened–‘

‘Rook,' Lucanis interrupted her softly, his hand moving to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. For a moment, he paused, lost in the simplicity of the gesture, marvelling at how effortless it felt to hold her so close, how completely natural it came to him, like with no-one ever before. It was as if the world had folded around them, and only in that stillness did his thoughts finally catch up to him. Yet even then, he refused to let them overtake him – not when Rook still needed him. She shifted slightly in his arms, and he drew his gaze up to meet hers. ‘You have made an impossible choice,’ he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within. ‘I meant what I said. Whatever you wish of me. Whenever you need... my help. I will be there.’ Her eyes shimmered with the soft light of the crystal hanging above them, the glow reflected in the deep haze of her pained eyes. ‘I cannot ask that of you,’ she chuckled weakly, as her usual demeanour fought to come back to light.

‘I insist. Anything.’

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze falling away, as though weighing her next request. When she finally spoke again, her voice was different. Her Trade Tongue’s accent dropped ever so slightly, and her Nevarran lilt curled around the edges of her words, as if it was only now she allowed him to see her truly for the first time. ‘Can you call me by my name? Tell me everything will be all right? I wish to believe it... if only for a moment.’ 

Her request felt like the softest blanket, wrapping around Lucanis’ shoulders and across his heart. And in that moment, all he could feel was the quiet ache of wanting to protect her, to fight for her, to care for her. To give himself away to her will. He closed his eyes again, swaying gently with her in his arms, as though the rhythm of his movements could bring the lost memory back to him. And then, like a flash of clarity through the haze, it came to him. A name, soft and foreign, whispered in the heat of battle as they fought their way toward freedom. It was a name that had lingered in his mind, unspoken until now. Pleasant to the ear, yet strong in its means. A strength that mirrored her own. It was fitting, somehow – perfect in its simplicity and its power. He tasted it on his tongue, letting the sound roll gently over his lips, savouring the moment. It was sweet and proper, a name that could become a part of him, if only for a lifetime. He breathed in, steadying himself before speaking it aloud, the words falling from his lips like a promise, like a tender reassurance.

‘Everything will be all right, Hissera.’

––– More of Lucanis taking care of Rook:

[illubean]

One of Those Crazy Girls

"Are we really over now? Maybe I can change your mind!"

In which your, now ex, boyfriend dumps you without explanation, and you just can't accept it. (AKA you're the delusional and crazy ex gf)

Characters: Suguru Geto Type: Oneshot, Angst, Fem!Reader

Inspired by (One of Those) Crazy Girls by Paramore.

Warnings: breaking and entering lol

"I think we need to slow down," the black haired man started. The two of you were standing at a park, underneath the barren, snow covered trees in the midst of January. The cold bit at the apple of your cheeks as well as the tip of your nose, as you stood clad in a scarf and a winter coat Suguru had gifted you for your birthday about a year ago.

"What do you mean? Like you want some more time to just focus on us?" you asked, confused. You pulled one of your gloved hands from your pockets, going to reach for the man before you. He gently grasped your wrist, stopping you.

"I'm afraid you have things backwards. I'm breaking up with you, Y/n."

"Haha, funny joke Sugu. You know we're gonna be forever," you chuckled before seeing that his face was completely serious. Your smile faltered at his expression as your heart shattered at his next words.

"I'm sorry, but this is goodbye."

______________________________________________________________

It had been nearly a week since Suguru broke things off, and in that time you have sent him countless messages, calling his phone every time you got a chance. He had received nearly a hundred voicemails from you alone.

"Hey Sugu! Why did you just leave so suddenly yesterday? Call me back when you can, okay? Love you!"

"Suguru, did you get my messages? Call me back please! I love you!

"Hey, why aren't you answering me? Can we talk? Please?"

"You couldn't have been serious when you said you wanted to break up. Are we really over now?? What did I do wrong? Maybe I can change your mind! Please call me back Sugu. I can't live without you! I swear, I'll never love again! Please can we just fix this?"

You were slowly going mad as time went on. You needed something, anything to just let you know Suguru was at least okay. You decided you needed to see him at least one last time if he was actually serious about all this.

"Hi Suguru. I'm about to board a bus to Tokyo. I just really need to see you. I really do love you, okay? See you soon."

You looked around as you boarded the bus, gripping one of the handrails once you found a spot. Your eyes scanned the interior, glancing over all the other passengers. There was a couple around your age in front of you, the man holding a protective arm around his partner. Then an elderly couple sitting in the seats next to you, holding onto each other lovingly as they talked about their day. There was even two children holding hands nearby.

You couldn't take this anymore.

Everything reminded you of Suguru.

You sighed as you looked down at you feet, attempting to ignore those around you. You couldn't wait for this bus ride to be over.

As the bus pulled up to the stop, people shuffled out the doors and went their own respective ways. Your feet led you down the familiar path through the city. It didn't take long for you to reach your destination, looking up to the sign on the side of the building.

'Mitsumasu Apartments'

Suguru's apartment complex.

You pushed open the front gate, making your way up the stairs to the third floor and stopping in front of a door reading "341".

You raised your fist to knock on the door before hesitating for a moment.

What the hell were you doing here?

Your voice of reason was small in the back of your mind, but none the less, it was there. You weighed your options as you stood staring at the dark metal door before you. It was obvious Suguru never wanted to see you again, as he had basically went no contact. But you just couldn't help yourself.

Without any further hesitation, you knocked on the door three times before awaiting a response. But nothing came. So you tried again.

Knock knock knock.

A beat of silence.

Knock knock knock.

Nothing again.

Huffing in frustration you knocked one last time, much more aggressive this time before concluding that you would just let yourself in if he wouldn't.

Stepping off of the door mat, you crouched down to retrieve the spare key you knew he hid there. Unlocking and pushing the door open, you looked around to see the place was exactly the same as when you had last been there. Not a thing was out of place.

"Suguru! Quit ignoring me and face me like a man!" You yelled into the empty apartment, only to be met with silence once again. Letting out an irritated huff, you entered the apartment, closing the door behind you. Your eyes scanned the living room before you popped your head into the kitchen, checked the bathroom, and finally, Suguru's bedroom.

He really just wasn't home.

Your shoulders slumped as you felt defeated, going through all these lengths to get ahold of the man you love only to come up empty handed. Even in his own home. Your feet mindlessly took you towards his closet, which you opened and peered into to find your favorite hoodie of his front and center.

It was always so warm and smelled just like him.

Holding the hoodie to your chest, you flop down onto his bed, curling up on your side as you buried your face into the fabric.

It was just as you remembered.

The scent of Suguru filled your senses, as you curled into yourself even further. Tears slipped passed your eyes, your body trembling while soft sobs escaped your lips.

You missed him more than anyone could ever imagine.

You layed there in your own sorrow, disregarding the rest of the world around you. Memories of your time spent in this very room came flooding back to you, causing your tears to fall much quicker. Your thoughts began to spiral into what could've been. The future you always wanted; getting married to Suguru and having at least two kids. But just like that, your plans became dreams that slipped right past your fingers and out of reach.

Before your thoughts could venture any further, you were brought back to reality by the sound of that smooth voice you knew all too well.

"L/n?"