#while everyone does their own thing and i can listen in and chime in every now and again. severely underrated tbh

[sparklingchim]

game on 05 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x oc

word count: 2.9k

tropes: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warning: jk flexing his abs (he is just a man😔), sleeping in one bed, mentions of oc flashing her boobs in the past (rumour created by jk), they compare their abs..😭, cuddles <3, their parents adore them <3,

summary: the hardest part so far: lying to your parents. a close second: squeezing into jungkook's tiny twin bed with his big body taking up too much space.

a/n: finished this up listening to new lorde n eating pizza at 4am oh how i love life !!!!!

masterlist

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The thing about fake dating is that it works great until you’re sitting across from both your mothers and your dad at your not-boyfriend’s family dinner table, and suddenly everyone’s looking at you like you’ve already picked out wedding venues.

Jungkook had the audacity to look normal. You were barely holding it together, one fake smile and suspiciously warm face at a time.

“I didn’t realise you two were so close these days,” Jungkook’s mum says, smiling sweetly. “I was so happy when I saw the news, but also a little hurt that I had to find out through the internet and not from my own son.” Her gaze slides pointedly to Jungkook, giving him a scolding look. “I’ve been hearing all kinds of things about you through the internet.”

Oh no. Once mums start scolding you for one thing, they bring up every mistake you’ve ever made too. One thing turns into five, and suddenly you’re being reminded of stuff you did when you were a child.

But obviously, Jungkook’s used to this – sitting in the hot seat while his mum lectures him. He doesn’t even flinch anymore. Just lets the scolding roll off and ignores the jabs.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” he retorts, voice smooth, hand resting on the back of your chair like it belonges there. It didn’t. But now it does. Kinda? “It just kind of… happened. And it felt right.”

You are going to die here. Choke on your food and perish.

“___ didn’t say anything either,“ your dad pipes up, immediately throwing you under the bus.

“She has a lot on her plate,” your mum cuts in, quick to defend you. “At least she always makes time to call. And she visits when she can.”

Jungkook’s mum gives her son another pointed glare before her face softens as she turns to you. Her tone shifts completely, warm and doting. “How’s university, sweetheart? You’re not running yourself into the ground, are you?”

You sit up a little straighter under the attention, managing a small smile. “Ah, there’s always a lot to do. But it’s not too much.”

She nods approvingly, already scooping more rice into your bowl before you can protest. “Good. You always were such a hardworking girl. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too, hmm?”

“And you’re joining Jungkook for the world cup?” your dad asks. “You sure it won’t be too stressful with university and everything?”

“It’s just a few weeks,” you say, trying to sound more chill than you feel. “My exams are still far away anyway, I’ll manage. Most of the work I can keep up with online.”

“The only thing I’m really worried about is the flight,” you admit, voice dipping slightly. “Being up in the air for that long kind of freaks me out.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jungkook says. “It’s really not that bad. We’ll probably sleep the whole plane ride anyway.”

“Our Jungkook will make sure to take care of you,” his mum chimes in, beaming with full maternal confidence. “Right? You’ll look after her properly – make sure she feels safe and comfortable. Especially because she’s willing to keep up with her studies while traveling, which is very responsible.”

You nod, cheeks heating. Her approval has always felt… different. Kinder. She’s not your mum. She doesn’t have to think the world of you, but she always has. She’s been rooting for you since the days you and Jungkook used to sit cross-legged on the living room floor doing homework together.

“Of course,” Jungkook says easily. His voice is light, when he glances over at you, his eyes are all doe-like and shiny, crinkling at the corners the way they only do when he’s being extra sincere. “I always try to take care of her.”

And then, ever so casually, his hand reaches up to rest lightly on your shoulder. His fingers brush your shoulder for a second, barely there, but enough to make you feel it everywhere.

Your lips twitch with the start of a smile you’re trying hard to hide. You shyly look away.

“I wish your dad could see you two like this,” his mum says with a fond smile. She tilts her head, gaze softening even more with pure endearment. “Such a shame he had to work this evening.”

All three of you look at Jungkook and you with adoring eyes. This is probably all they’ve hoped your entire lives long.

You swallow a little harder than usual.

“I’m so glad you two found each other.” Your dad gives you an approving smile. “You’ve always looked after each other. Even as little kids.”

“Finally ___ could bring some sense into Jungkook’s life,” his mum says. “I didn’t like your behaviour at all, Jungkook.” She directly speaks to him. “It’s time to stop behaving like a young boy, hm? Stop acting reckless. You’ve got someone beside you now.”

Jungkook blinks. He probably thought the scolding was over. “Mum...”

You have to stifle your giggles. If his dad were here, the conversation would’ve already derailed into football tactics and match predictions, with your dad chiming in too. But in his absence, Jungkook’s mum is fully in charge and she’s on a roll.

“He’s been good,” you add quickly, defending him. “He’s a very good boyfriend.”

You can feel Jungkook’s stare burning into the side of your face, but you refuse to look at him. One glance and you might start laughing or fumbling your words or blushing or whatever.

You don’t say anything else. But you think he knows.

~

Somehow, Jungkook’s mum managed to trick you both into staying the night.

She started with a sweet suggestion – “Why don’t you sleep here and have breakfast with us in the morning? Jungkook’s dad will be home then too!”

Without much resistance (none), you found yourself smiling and nodding along. Because who says no to Jungkook’s mum?

This is not a regular sleepover, though. This is not popcorn and movies and matching pyjama sets. This is sharing a bed that is definitely not made for two people, in a room that still has posters of football players from 2010.

You’ve been offered one of Jungkook’s old high school football jerseys, which hangs halfway to your knees, and a pair of smallish athletic shorts you had to tie tight around your waist to keep them from slipping – both a little ridiculous, both weirdly comforting.

But even with his clothes on your body, you’ve been granted no special privileges.

Your regular resident monster is hogging the bed.

Jungkook’s broad shoulders stretch close to the edge, and his strong arms don’t exactly make it easy for you to claim your side.

And you’re just. Lying there. Eyes wide open.

Fake dating, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

“I don’t think I could ever get married,” you blurt out.

“What? Why?” he asks, clearly startled. “You’re too much of a lover girl to be saying shit like that.” You feel him shift slightly, looking over at you.

“Sleeping next to a man for the rest of my life? Doesn’t sound appealing to me.”

“You don’t wanna to spend every waking moment with the love of your life?”

“I want to, but.” You meet his gaze. “What if he snores like you?”

He scoffs. “Rude.”

“It’s a real concern.”

“Your love would be big enough to drown out the snoring?” He fully turns on his side, moving the mattress and making you pray he won’t accidentally push you off.

“That’s your argument?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “I think if you love someone enough, you’d stop noticing the noise. Maybe even become comforting.”

“That’s… actually kind of cute.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, maybe I’m not writing off marriage completely.”

“I’m always changing lives.”

“All you did was defend snoring.”

“And love,” he says, pointing at himself. “Don’t forget love.”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks feel a little warm. His face is close now, his hair a soft mess and his expression sleepy but somehow still handsome. You shift just a bit to make space.

“You can come closer,” Jungkook says, pulling you to him by your waist.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

Jungkook grabs your arm before you can even try to get out of bed.

“No. Imagine my mum catching you in the living room in the morning.”

“I’ll say your snoring bothered me,” you say. “Which would not be a total lie.”

You’re concerned about not being able to fall asleep with his snoring in your ear and the very real possibility of him accidentally pushing you off the bed. The couch sounds like a dream compared to this.

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promises. “But mum would immediately assume we had a fight if she catches one of us on the couch.” He sighs. “Would make us wash dishes side by side like back when we were kids and had a fight.”

“I’m so good at washing dishes now, though,” you say. “I’m thankful for her bonding strategy, honestly.”

“You’re weird for enjoying cleaning up.”

“But it’s so therapeutic!” you defend. “It’s just me, my dishcloth, and a good audiobook. I love it.”

“You’re, like, every mothers dream daughter-in-law.”

Your eyelashes flutter in a tentative, shy way. “You think so?”

Jungkook sniffs a laugh at your reaction. “Studying medicine seals half the deal already.”

“Remember when you had that injury from football in the first year of high school, and your mum called me right after you got back from the hospital to check if the doctors knew what they were doing?”

Jungkook groans at the memory. “She kept bugging me to send you photos of my meds so you could double-check if they prescribed the right thing,” he says. “Like, just because you wanted to be a doctor back then didn’t mean you actually knew anything.”

“She’s cute.”

“She’s overprotective.”

“She cares about her baby,” you retort, voice a little high-pitched as you squish his cheeks together with your hand.

“You know, I was just thinking how I strive to be more like you, but I rest my case.” His hand clutches your wrist. “I don’t want to be someone who does stuff like this.”

“Too tired to be silly?” You let go of his face, dropping your hand on his chest.

“Too much food,” he sighs dramatically, giving his tummy a few taps.

You frown. “There’s no food baby.”

Jungkook lifts his shirt, showing off the rippled lines across his abdomen. “Just pretty abs.”

“I have those too, you know.” You tug Jungkook’s jersey up a few inches, just enough to reveal the soft skin of your belly. “They’re just hiding.” The jersey pools around your ribs, the fabric bunching slightly in your hands.

He chuckles. Then with a grin, he reaches over and gently pokes your tummy, making you flinch.

“They shy?” he says, amused. “Gotta coax them out?”

“They’re waiting for me to pick up my Pilates classes again.” You tug the jersey down again. “I've had a defined tummy for a bit, but I'm just too lazy when it comes to working out. I have zero discipline in that regard.”

Because why would you willingly choose moving your body when you could use your free time to curl up in bed and sleep?

“Lets work out in the gym together,” he proposes. “I'll motivate you.”

“Why do you always try to get me to work out with you?”

“So we can spend more time together?”

“We’re about to spend plenty of time together.”

“It’s gonna give class trip vibes,” he beams. “So excited to be there with the boys and you.”

You’re excited too. You’ve never left the country before, and the idea of going abroad feels surreal, but you wish the circumstances were different. Is pretending going to be easy with so many eyes on you?

You pout a little at the thought, kicking off the sheets as warmth starts spreading across your body.

Jungkook frees himself from the sheets too. “It’s hot,” he mutters.

“Your room’s too tiny for two people in summer.”

Jungkook sits up just enough for his arm to bump into yours. You let out a little grumpy noise.

“Jungkook,” you huff, giving him a lazy shove. “Personal space.”

Only then do you realise he’s pulling his t-shirt over his head, the fabric dragging slowly up his torso before he chucks it somewhere into the abyss that is his floor. It’s dark, but not dark enough. Your eyes still catch on the muscles of his back, the dip of his waist, the way his shoulder blades shift with the motion.

“Personal space doesn’t exist on this bed.” His voice is a bit low, probably the sleepiness seeping through, but coupled with him slowly dragging his hand through his hair it makes it feel like more than just tiredness.

Your eyes flick to the stretch of his arm, the shift in his shoulders. It’s mildly offensive how effortlessly good he looks. Maybe even a bit annoying.

“Why are you getting naked?”

Jungkook laughs and looks down at you. “I usually never wear this much to bed.”

“You can take your sweatpants off too,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

Jungkook tilts his head. His hair falling over his forehead in little strands. “You trying to get me naked?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to be the only one getting naked,” he shamelessly tosses out.

This absolute freak. Jungkook has to tease you every 5 minutes or else he’ll spontaneously combust.

“This is not 10th grade truth or dare strip version,” you reply, unfazed. But then the memory hits you like a brick. “Oh my god, remember that school trip? When we all snuck into Jimin’s room and someone asked you a relatively tame question, and you took your shirt off for no reason, but everyone knew you just wanted to show off?” You shove his shoulder playfully, remembering his silly antics from high school. “You literally just wanted to flex in front of Hyejin.”

Jungkook sighs dreamily at the memory as he gets comfy on the bed. “Ah, teenage hormones and desperation. Simpler times.”

“I bet you’d do the same thing right now if you had a crush.”

He turns his head on the pillow to face you, smile soft and cheeky. A quiet dimple tucks into his cheek.

“Shirt’s off already.” He raises an eyebrow and lets his gaze flick very obviously from your eyes to your mouth and back.

“Ugh,” you grumble, closing your eyes for a second. “How am I going to tolerate you for two whole weeks during the world cup?”

“Just the way you ignored me during the game when Taehyung dared you to kiss someone, and you refused my offer to just kiss me so you wouldn’t have to take off your clothes?”

You immediately cover your face with your hands. “Don’t remind me.”

“That was the highlight of the night. Taehyung knew you wouldn’t do the dare. Just wanted you to take off your shirt.”

“You said ‘if you’re too nervous I’ll volunteer’.”

“I was giving you a way out! I knew you weren’t gonna kiss any of those douchebags.”

“You said it in front of like ten people, Jungkook. What was I supposed to do, make out with you in the middle of the circle?” You shake your head in disbelief. “Do you think Taehyung thinks of us sometimes?” you ask, curiosity tugging at your words.

“Nah, he’s too busy with his influencer friends now.” He rolls his eyes as he says it.

Taehyung was such a good friend until high school ended, and everyone’s lives drifted apart. He stopped showing up to hangouts and stopped texting.

“Anyway, my offer would’ve saved you flashing your tits at everyone.”

You sit up, glaring at him. “I was not flashing my tits at everyone. I had a bra on!”

He was the one flashing his tits.

“Well then, flashing your cute bra at everyone,” he corrects. He’s got one hand behind his head, looking at you through amused eyes.

You think for a second. “I don’t remember what bra I was wearing.”

“A white one. It had little cherries all over and a little bow in the middle.”

“That one!” you perk up. You click your tongue mournfully. “Grew out of it though.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. His gaze drops down to your chest – though there’s really nothing to see, not with you absolutely drowning in his old jersey. Still, his eyes linger with a soft kind of amusement.

“We could buy a new one?”

“No, some things are better left as good memories.”

Without a word, Jungkook wraps an arm around you and gently tugs you down onto his chest. You let yourself go easily, curling into his side, and resting your head on his chest.

“Then I hope you’ll always think of that bra fondly.” His fingers brush absentmindedly along your spine.

You giggle. “Thank you, silly.”

When you start to shift back to your ridiculously tiny sliver of the bed – because someone (the bicep exhibit to your right) is taking up eighty percent of the mattress – Jungkook presses a gentle hand to the small of your back, stopping you.

“You can stay.”

“But I drool.”

“That’s okay. I snore.”

You consider it for a moment. “Fair trade.”

Jungkook chuckles as you settle again, placing your head right back on his chest. His hand stays where it is, comfortable and still.

You wake up multiple times that night.

Each time, you try to inch further toward the edge of the bed, desperate to escape the relentless, blaring noise of Jungkook’s snoring.

But every single time, he reaches for you in his sleep. An arm looping around your waist, a hand tugging you back in.

You stop fighting, eventually. Let the (annoying) noise carry you through the night while you’re half-draped over Jungkook’s chest, face smushed into warm skin, drooling peacefully.

[minisugakoobies]

Whipped | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slightly crack-ish, non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: Mingyu's a stubborn idiot, but he's also the softest human alive, Minghao's kind of a jerk tbh, use of they/them pronouns for reader, this is honestly just fluffy nonsense meant to give you warm fuzzies

Word Count: 3.9k

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: No matter what his friends say, Mingyu is definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not whipped for you.

A/N: Yep, another Mingyu fic. I can't help it. 🤷‍♀️

Unbeta’d as usual. If you liked this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

Kim Mingyu is not whipped.

This is what he forcefully reminds himself when you walk into Minghao’s party, looking sweeter than a spring day, a phrase which if he’s being honest is maybe a little more poetic than he’d normally use. That’s okay. He can be a little dramatic if he wants. Why not? Seokmin does it all the time and no one bats an eye.

In any case. Mingyu is not whipped.

That’s why he turns his head, pretending he doesn’t see you dazzle everyone around you with your beautiful smile. While he’s pretending, he also acts like he can’t feel his own lips tug upwards at the soft chime of your laughter, a Pavlovian response to your happiness. No, his smile is unrelated to whatever you’re doing. He’s just in a good mood, one that didn’t suddenly ascend to the heavens when you entered the room.

Mingyu’s not whipped.

He sinks further into the couch where he’s sitting, a little off to the side of where Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seokmin are talking. Theoretically, he’s part of the conversation, adding the occasional hum or laugh, but he’s really not contributing much of anything. He’s too busy thinking about you. Not like that. 

(But not not like that, either.) 

In any case, Mingyu remains firmly unwhipped - solid, unshaken, definitely not falling apart over you. He’ll be absolutely fine, as long as you stay on the other side of the room, where your charms can’t reach him. Except that he can’t stop watching you, and now you’re looking at him, and even though he averts his eyes, it’s too late. He can sense you walking towards him, his heartbeat increasing with every step you take.

Not. Whipped. 

“Hey there, stranger.” 

Instinctively, at the sound of your voice, he glances up at you, like a flower tilting its face towards your light. He nods at your greeting, mumbling a hello of his own. The others sitting around him all greet you as well, but you merely nod in reply, your full attention on Mingyu. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

If Mingyu had a list of things he loved about you, which he does not, being straightforward would be near the top. Of this totally fictional list that does not exist. He admires it, actually, the way you have no patience for dishonesty or deception.

Even though your question is blunt, your smile remains soft as you wait for his response, and Mingyu rethinks his ranking. Item number one on that imaginary list - the way you smile, at him, specifically. It’s so warm, like being hugged by the rays of the sun itself. It makes him happier than he ever thought possible. He wants to curl up like a cat and bask in the feeling. If he’s not careful, he might start purring right now.

He’s totally super normal about you.

“Me?” he asks, stalling for time, praying that a somewhat reasonable explanation falls into his lap in the meantime. He’s only a fair-to-moderate bullshitter, so his hopes are low. He can feel the others staring at the two of you, very obviously listening, because no one in your friend group seems to respect boundaries. It’s not helping. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you chirp back, and he does, he knows exactly what you mean, just like you know exactly what he’s doing. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. What’s going on?”

What’s going on is that Mingyu is not whipped, even if it feels like his insides are turning to melty goo beneath your inquisitive gaze. 

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” he shoots, aiming for breezy and landing just shy of nonchalant. 

“Busy doing what?” 

“You know. Stuff.” Oh god, he really sucks at this. “And things.” Jesus Christ.

You fold your arms, and Mingyu thinks it’s cute the way you’re squinting at him, one eye closed as you assess his response. Unbearably cute, actually, and getting worse the longer it goes on.

“Yeahhhh, that’s not good enough,” you inform him, and with one hand on his arm (Mingyu ignores the electric current that lights up his nervous system when you touch him. It’s just static and definitely not anything else), you pull him to his feet and lead him out of Minghao’s apartment and into the empty hallway. He follows, not because he’d follow you anywhere, but because he’s curious.

Once the door is closed behind you, you turn to him, a serious expression on your face. “Gyu. Be honest with me.” Always, he thinks reflexively. “This is about what those guys said the other night, isn’t it?” 

Of course you know exactly what it is that has his head spinning right now. The two of you have been friends for ages, but Mingyu still can’t get over how easily you always seem to read him. 

A few nights ago, Mingyu and you had been out to dinner with a few others, and it had been like any other time you were hanging out with your friends, lots of laughing and teasing and just being happy dumbasses together. Only on this particular evening, the food had taken a very long time to arrive, but the drinks kept coming in the meanwhile, and you’d gotten a little drunker than usual, and a little clingier, sticking to Mingyu like a magnet.

Not that Mingyu minded having you hanging on his side all night. Nor did he mind keeping a close eye on you, making sure you were drinking your water and eating to help soak up some of the alcohol. None of that bothered him at all - you were his best friend; why wouldn’t he take care of you? Especially when you smiled at him and thanked him for being so sweet, so good to you, over and over.

(He can’t even begin to explain how that made him feel.)

The others noticed. And commented. Mingyu tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn’t shut up. By the time they joked that Mingyu was your trained puppy, suggesting you buy him a pretty collar and a leash to go with it, he’d had enough.

And when he tried to express that, Minghao had shut him down with a scoff, a wave of his hand, and one word. 

“Whipped.” 

Mingyu admits that he’s a lot of things, but he’s not a whipped man. He’s not. He’s not, no matter what the others say. No matter how you’re looking at him right now, concern etched all over your lovely face, lip tucked between your teeth as you wait for his answer. He’s strong. And proud. 

(And maybe a stubborn idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He considers just not responding at all, but he knows how persistent you are, so he settles for a half-shrug. You sigh, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing in front of you. 

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” you say softly, shaking your head. “They were joking. They said so! And you know I didn’t take it seriously for a second.” 

“You didn’t hear everything they said!” he protests, crossing his own arms. You’d missed most of the barbs flying his way that night, too busy enjoying yourself. Which weirdly made him happy. He hated the thought of those guys ruining your night. “They said I was your pet!” 

“So? Jeonghan always tells Seokmin he’s got the zoomies when he gets hyper. He knows he’s not actually a dog! It’s just stupid jokes! Our friends are dumb!” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “That’s what we like about them!”

Mingyu can’t help it, he starts to laugh with you, but then he catches himself, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.” 

“Then help me understand.” 

How can he help you understand, when he’s not entirely sure he understands it himself, this storm inside him, clouding his mind? 

“I…” He glances wildly around the hallway, but there’s nothing out here to help him. He can hear the bass from whatever song is playing inside the party, a low, steady thrumming that contrasts the erratic thumping of his heart. “I don’t like being called weak.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what they said?” 

“Yeah. Or I guess… they implied it. When they said I was whipped for you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he’s pouting and it doesn’t help his defense, but it’s just his default setting. “But I’m not.” 

Because he’s staring into your eyes as he speaks, he catches it - the quick expression of sorrow that pinches your brow at his explanation - but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant. If he weren’t watching your face so intently, he would’ve missed it. 

“Gyu,” you sigh, the corners of your mouth lifting in what is clearly meant to be a smile, except it doesn’t reach your eyes, and for a moment, the confusing tide of emotions inside him still, and he feels only sadness. That’s not how you smile. “Can you please let it go? Everyone was being an idiot. That’s nothing new! Besides…” You trail off, staring at the floor.

He waits a beat. “Besides what?”

You huff and shrug. “It’s nothing, forget it.” 

The uncertainty in your tone unnerves Mingyu even more than your fake smile. Where’s that directness of yours? 

“No, tell me. Besides what?” 

With a deep breath, you look him straight in the eye. “Besides, I’m not delusional. I know you don’t like me like that. I’m not your type.” 

Your voice grows quieter at the end of your sentence, just as the music coming from the other side of the door fades out, and to Mingyu, the silence only amplifies your words, leaving them ringing loudly in his ears like a sonic boom. You’re not his type?

He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow help. 

“You - you’re not - “ He pauses, searching fruitlessly for the end of his sentence, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Right. I’m not.” 

The laugh you let out sounds so fake that he winces, and a terrible realization hits him. You’ve taken his stammering to be a complete thought - a confirmation of what you’d said, that you aren’t someone he’d like like that. Curling in on yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach, you shrink away from him, only a few inches but the distance feels so vast. 

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?” 

Mingyu’s speechless. As his silence grows, so does the space between the two of you, until you’re standing by the door, hand on the knob. He feels like he should be doing something right now, snapping into action of some sort, but his brain is still stuck on your declaration.

“Okay,” he finally croaks, because it’s clear that you’re waiting for him to speak, and he doesn’t know what else to do but agree with you, because you’re usually right and he usually agrees with you. 

“Right,” you say again, but you look slightly unsure, and it rattles Mingyu, making him feel even more unsettled than before. “Okay.” And then you open the door and slip back inside Minghao’s apartment.

Alone in the hallway, Mingyu slumps against the wall. Well. That was a spectacular failure. He’d tried to explain how their comments upset him and all he’d done was upset you. The shift in your demeanor was so obvious to him, a flashing neon sign basically screaming “you fucked up!” in blazing red light. 

He gives himself a minute to try to pull himself together, then he returns to the party. As soon as he’s inside, he scans the room, until he finds you standing in the corner, hanging out with another friend, Chan, talking and laughing like everything is fine. Which, as Mingyu feels deep in the pit of his stomach, he knows it is not. 

His previously vacated spot on the couch remains open, so he slips back into it, ignoring the curious looks of his friends. He doesn’t want to answer any stupid questions right now, doesn’t want to deal with any of their crap while he tries to wrap his head around what just happened in the hallway. 

Naturally, his friends immediately start nosing into his business.

“What was that all about?” Minghao asks, turning to face Mingyu. Seokmin and Jeonghan both twist towards him, eager to hear his answer. 

“What was what about?” Mingyu replies, eyes flitting to you again. Chan must be bringing his A game with his jokes tonight, because you’re giggling Mingyu’s favorite giggle, the one that makes your nose twitch like a little bunny’s. It always makes him swell with pride when he coaxes it out of you with one of his dumb jokes, so seeing it right now and knowing he’s not the cause of it, well, it’s not exactly helping improve his mood.

“What was that dramatic exit?” Minghao gestures towards the door. 

“It was nothing. We were just talking.” Again he looks at you. And again, your attention is focused solely on the man beside you. Mingyu doesn’t understand. Can’t you feel him looking at you? 

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, miming the crack of a whip with his hand. Seokmin and Minghao crack up beside Mingyu, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to catch your eye. He wants to see you smile at him. Just one smile. That’s all he needs to make him feel better. 

His friends lose interest in teasing him when he doesn’t respond, and the conversation moves on. As does the evening. Mingyu bonds with the couch, not leaving except to grab refills of his drink, but otherwise he’s a fixed point in this party, unlike you, who are constantly moving, floating from friend to friend, spreading joy across the room.

Spreading joy to everyone except him, that is. No matter how much he watches you, your light never shines on him again, not like it did earlier. He knows what this is. You’re the one doing the avoiding now. And oh my god does he hate it. He feels cold and lonely, withering away, dying for your attention. For your affection. Because he needs it to thrive.

Oh. 

Oh wow, he’s stupid. The others are right. 

Kim Mingyu is whipped. 

For you, and you only. 

Like it has been every few minutes since he returned from the hallway, his gaze is drawn back to you, and this time, it’s different. Because the mask you’ve been wearing all night finally slips, and Mingyu sees the wrinkle of your brow, and the slight downturn of your mouth, and he understands. You’re just as miserable as he is.

That absolutely will not do. He needs to fix this right now.

Mingyu rises to his feet again, not even waiting for Minghao to finish the story he’s been telling, not that he’s been listening anyway, and starts walking towards you. When he’s a mere arm’s length away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have any plan, just an urgent need to make you look happy again. And also pay attention to him, because he needs your attention just like he needs you, so he panics, and grabs your hand. 

You look at him in surprise as his fingers slip between yours.

“Come with me. Please,” he adds, a bit hasty in his anxiousness, already tugging you out of the room and into the hallway. A pair of voices follow you both out, as Minghao and Jeonghan both jeer loudly at the sight of Mingyu dragging you away, but thankfully the door drowns them out, letting only the beat of the music through.   Which would be a good thing, except that now it’s just Mingyu and a very quiet you. With your hand still in his. 

“Is everything o-”

“You are my type.” 

You start speaking at the same time he does, but he’s louder, blurting his entire sentence out before you can finish yours. Your mouth freezes in an ‘o,’ and oh, Mingyu can’t believe what a dumbass he’s been for so long. How did everyone else see it but him? 

“I just. Wanted you to know. That you are the type of person. That I like.” Why can’t. He complete. A whole sentence? “Smart, funny, gorgeous….” 

You glance away from him, suddenly shy at that last word, and it just reinforces Mingyu’s point. 

Unfortunately, it does not make it any easier for him to say what he’s trying to say.

“But you’re not just my type? You’re the person I like. Hao’s right. They’re all right. I am whipped for you.” He frowns. “Damn it, I hate it when Hao’s right.” 

That makes you laugh, a quick “ha!” that makes your eyes light up, and Mingyu finds himself feeling stronger, so he doubles down. Might as well own it. 

“But he did, he got this one right. I’m down bad.” He brings your entwined hands up, clutching them in front of him, maybe pressing his luck a little, maybe laying it on thick, but it’s barely an exaggerated version of the truth if it’s not pure simple fact. 

“‘Gyu,” you groan, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch in the corner of your mouth that won’t cease, and it makes his heart sing. “Knock it off. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think you do.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. Your hands are caught between you, and he presses the palm of yours against his chest, wondering if you feel the spike in his heartbeat when you inhale sharply. 

“Maybe you should tell me,” you say, eyes wide but voice calm, and again, he marvels at how you strike straight at the heart of the matter, and he decides he can do the same. 

“I’m telling you that I like you.”

The next few seconds are the longest in Mingyu’s life. Nothing has ever lasted this long in the history of time. Entire civilizations are built and fall within the blink of your eyelashes. You keep looking back and forth between his eyes, and he hopes that you see whatever it is you need to believe him, and tries his best to convey clearly what he feels. Even if he’s having trouble speaking his thoughts, at least his gaze can express it. 

“You like me…” 

He nods. “A lot.” Now that he’s said it out loud, it’s hitting him just how much.  

“You like me…” you start again slowly, frowning slightly, “but you don’t like it when others point that out?” 

“I just - “ Mingyu breaks off, a sharp puff of breath exploding out in frustration. How to explain it? “I didn’t like them saying it the way they did. It… it made me feel like they were calling me weak or something.” Your frown deepens and he stumbles on. “But - but that’s stupid, and I know it’s stupid. And I - I don’t care anymore.” 

He clings to your hands, a lifeboat in a sea of turmoil, the warmth of your fingers locked between his giving him hope that this isn’t going completely downhill, this sudden confession of his. It’d be just like him to ruin this with his impatience. He’s always too eager. 

“So what do you care about?” you ask, gaze burning into his. 

And then there’s you. Always so calm and direct. God, he adores you. 

“You. How you feel.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, you lower your eyes, in the briefest of glances at his mouth, and Mingyu feels that electric shock again, tingling all the way to his fingertips. He barely breathes as he waits for you to speak.

“If you really are whipped for me,” you finally say, “you should go tell them that.” You jerk your chin in the direction of the door.

If that’s what you want, then that’s what he’ll do. Without a second’s hesitation, Mingyu spins, his hand gripping yours to pull you back into the apartment with him. 

Seokmin gawks openly as Mingyu stomps across the room. Minghao and Jeonghan exchange a glance that last night would’ve set Mingyu spiraling, but now rolls off him like water. Mingyu comes to a stop directly in front of his friends, squaring his shoulders, trying frantically to corral his thoughts into something coherent. 

But before he can open his mouth, Minghao leans forward, placing his chin in his hand. “Shhh, guys, I think the puppy’s going to speak!” 

“Hao, shut the fuck up.” 

Minghao bristles when Mingyu snaps at him. Jeonghan and Seokmin both cackle, but then Mingyu glares at the two of them, and they fall silent. He takes a deep breath. 

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what you guys say about me anymore, because I like YN.” 

The words spill out of him so easily, not even the tiniest nudge needed. He glances at you to find you wearing a delighted expression and his heart goes buoyant again. He decides to ride the wave. 

“They’re amazing. I’d do anything to make them smile, so if that makes me whipped, then I guess I’m fucking whipped.” 

He’s facing you now, not caring if the others can see the obvious lovestruck look in his eye as he keeps talking, not to them, but to you. Aware that they’re probably all smirking at one another, because they figured it out before he did, but he doesn’t give a single goddamn. 

“I can’t get enough of their smile. And the way they laugh. I like how sweet they are. How honest.” Mingyu can’t stop talking at this point. It’s all gotta come out. “But never mean about it. Even when it’s something you don’t want to hear. Especially when it’s something you need to hear.” 

Your hand twitches in his with every sentence he states. He squeezes back gently as his statements get louder.

“I’m not kidding when I say I’d do anything to make them smile. I’d walk the ocean floor for them. Climb a volcano and surf the lava down barefoot. Capture a star fr-”

“Oh my god, we get it, you like them!” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Enough with the bad poetry.” 

“Also? We know.” Minghao snorts. “No need for the dramatic announcement, it’s not news.” 

Mingyu barely hears him, too lost in the way you’re smiling at him now. Forget his earlier rankings. This smile beats all the others. Shoots directly to the top of the list, which, now that he thinks about it, he kinda wants to write down and give to you, maybe framed. Or maybe he’ll stick it on his fridge - with a heavy magnet, of course, because it’s such a long list.

He completely loses all interest in the rest of the room, even though he’s pretty sure most of the party is staring at the two of you. Instead, he finds himself hanging anxiously on the breath you take, hoping for you to say something, to give him an indication of where things stand between you now. Because he knows you’ll be straightforward and get right to the point, whatever’s on your mind. 

You step closer, close enough for him to feel your soft laugh on his lips as you give him a look that sends his pulse rocketing. You’ve never looked at him like this before.

Forget a list. He’s gonna write a whole book. 

“Come on, whipped boy. Take me home.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[inumkii]

mha boys working at a bakery

included: bakugou, kirishima, denki, shouto, and a little dabi feature

okay this prompt except its not awwww cute baker au! inspired by my old job, it was a bit miserable but i try to look back on it fondly

bakugou’s one of the bakers, almost always opening at 6am. there's a rare occasion where you're scheduled to open with only him and he's there early, prepping the dough with faint classical music playing in the background. opening shifts with him (and shifts in general) can be quite nice because he tends to mind his own business while you cover the counter, but you have walked in to him yelling at denki for leaving the scones in the oven for too long. i would say he’s pretty quiet when he bakes as long as no one else gets in his way. feel free to talk about whatever as he bakes because for you, he’ll silently listen. for anyone else, he’s complaining that they’re distracting him- unless! two people are talking mad shit or gossiping on the clock, he’s secretly listening in.

saturday morning opening shifts are your favorite because the two baker and two counter combo is almost always bakugo, kirishima, mina, and you. the reason why you put up with the miserable opening hours is because kiri and mina loveeeee to gossip about everything they’ve learned throughout the week between your coworkers and bakugou chimes in with additional information that no one else knew. you guys are surprised every time but he just shrugs it off.

kirishima is a sweetheart who does all the tasks that you don’t want to do. ask him to cover mopping tonight? done. need the stack of 50 sheet trays carried to the back? he’s taking care of it. he’s normally baking in the morning but he’ll close from time to time and you always know you’ll be out early when you see his name on the schedule.

denki takes closing shifts more often because he likes to call dibs on the pastries that didn't sell that day. he works at the counter more than baking,,, we all know why.. but he insists he can do either!! for everyone’s sake, especially the customers, you stick him behind the register.

i do think large group orders freak denki out so you have to stand next to him and help him ring them up every time. you really can't tell if he's pretending for the sake of having you by his side or if he genuinely can’t do it. (its a bit of both)

you guys have a closing checklist where you have to sign your name next to every cleanup task after completion but you and denki both hate doing the same things. so he’ll be a pain in the ass and sign his name prematurely on random tasks so you’ll get stuck on mopping duty. sorry. this is getting self indulgent but your personal favorite task is to take the chalk board advertisement for the bakery back inside at the end of the day. after a 7 hour shift, its a nice thirty second walk outside. somehow denki finds out that you love that task so he starts beating you to it. its gotten to a point where someone will innocently ask if anyone's taken in the sign for the night and there's a split second where you guys look at each other before immediately racing out the front door to see who can get to it first.

shouto is a gentleman!!!!!! he’s always there in the daytime, takes the 9-4 shifts mostly. hired as a baker but he took the counter once and he really charmed those old ladies popping in for their morning muffin so he’s kinda been defaulted to the front. you’ve been guilty at handing the phone to him when a wholesale order has gotten too confusing and he’ll kindly take over. he’s become the face the regulars see the most when they walk in due to the nature of his shift times.

you mostly catch shouto for an hour or two when you work closing shifts, coming in around 2. some nights, by the time you realize you need to take out the trash, its already dark outside. the dumpster walk isn’t necessarily far, but its not pleasant nor does it feel very safe. but when you go to check the trash, you realize shouto silently took them out before he got off his shift a few hours ago so you didn’t have to walk out in the dark. he’s never scheduled closing shifts, but if someone needs it covered + he sees that you're the other closer, he’s quick to offer. walks you back to your car too.

there’s a coffee shop in the same shopping complex that your bakery is friendly with. by the end of the night, any leftover pastries get put into a ziplock and handed over to them in exchange for a free coffee. the mysterious barista who’s name tag reads ‘dabi’ is always the one to thank you for bringing over the treats and making your latte. he knows exactly what you're gonna get every time he sees you walking up to the front of the cafe. he sends you off every night with a wink and your coffee in hand

(you aren’t aware that dabi is related to shouto at all. its never been brought up and they're mostly on different shift schedules. so when shouto hears about your closing night exchanges, he starts shifting his schedule just so he can accompany you. and to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he’s not going to pull anything funny.)

-

additional all might as my boss: early morning opening shifts are your worst enemy just because you cannottt be bothered to wake up earlier than noon, so when you do, you come in having just woken up ten minutes before. your boss catches you one morning and stops you for a ten minute rant about how you should be more confident with your bare face! and makeup is a social construct, so feel beautiful with yourself!! and you think its sweet but you didnt even notice how you weren’t even wearing the usual makeup look. thanks greg. i guess. he means well.

[winwintea]

wicked love

PAIRING ↬ non-idol!na jaemin x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ short lived-fluff, romance, TOXICITY, horror, thriller, supernatural, kinda unsettling, SOOO CREEPY, if bad why hot? au, oomfs pointed out this is kinda like wandavision and now i'm realizing it does so maybe wandavision au

WARNINGS ↬ horror, yandere!!! (read at your own risk!)

SUMMARY ↬ his love is perfect. but perfection comes with a price.

WORD COUNT ↬ 5.4k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ guys i think the voices are getting louder (ty to queens @yizhrt @peterm4rker @viasdreams and @polarisjisung for beta reading 🙏)

PLAYLIST ↬ rhinestone eyes - gorillaz; nightmares - the boyz; wicked love - yena; doll - gidle; the perfect girl - mareux

YOU NEEDED A FRESH START.

The train slows to a halt, the perfect little town laid out in front of your eyes. You step onto the platform, the scent of flowers filling the air. 

The town looks like a postcard-perfect town, almost like you’re staring at a travel brochure rather than the real thing. The cobblestone streets appear to be smoothed down over time. A few locals pass by, nodding at you with warm smiles. 

There’s something about this place. It feels timeless, almost, like it came straight out of your dreams. Maybe this will be home. Maybe it’s exactly the fresh start you need from your damaging past.

Your new apartment, right next to the main square, is perfect. Lace curtains sway gently in the breeze, creating a comfy atmosphere. You unpack your bags, starting to convince yourself this was the right move. A quieter life, far from the chaos you left behind.

The next morning, you walk into your new job at the café, a cute little shop with pastel walls and pastries that look too good to eat. Mrs. Kim, the owner, greets you with a smile that feels practiced but kind.

“Welcome, dear,” she says, her tone both warm and firm. “I can tell you’re nervous, but I have confidence you’ll fit in just fine. Everyone does.”

Encouraged by her kind words, you dive into the work, immersing yourself in the comforting rhythm of brewing coffee and arranging pastries. Simplicity is desperately needed.

Then the bell over the door chimes, and you glance up ready to greet your next customer. But what you see makes you freeze in place.

A man walks in with confidence, his dark eyes surveying the room before landing on you. His presence is drawing, his sharp cheekbones and warm smile seem to stand out in this quiet little town. For a moment, it feels like the entire café is holding its breath, waiting for him to order.

“Americano, please,” he says, his voice smooth but casual. His gaze doesn’t cease, even as you fumble slightly while writing his name on his drink. ‘Jaemin’. When you hand it to him, his fingers brush yours, sending an unexpected jolt through you.

“You’re new,” he states, not a question but an observation, his head tilted slightly as if he’s trying to read you.

You nod, flustered. “Just moved in yesterday.”

He continues to smile. “I’m happy to run into you then. Welcome.”

Instead of leaving, Jaemin takes a seat by the window, sipping his coffee while his attention drifts back and forth between you and the window. His gaze lingers just long enough to make your cheeks turn red. 

When your shift ends, you’re surprised to see him outside, leaning casually against the lamppost. The setting sun just adds to the beautiful sight right in front of you.

“I thought I’d walk you home,” his eyes steady, with some concern. “It’s getting late.”

The streets are quiet, and there doesn’t seem to be much danger present. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to decline. You nod, and he falls into step beside you.

As the two of you start to walk, he asks questions about you. How was your move, your life before this, what made you pick this town? He listens intently, hanging on to every word as though you’re the most fascinating person in the world. You tell him more than you planned to, and it isn’t until you see the intrigued look on his face that you realize how much you shared.

“What about you?” you ask, shifting the focus on him instead. “Have you been here long?”

“Long enough to know I was waiting for you.”

The line is so smooth it catches you off guard, and your face flushes as he laughs. His laugh is soft and such a pleasing sound that you realize you want to hear it again and again.

The next few weeks with Jaemin feel even more like a fairytale. He seems to appear everywhere. Waiting for you outside the café after your shifts, showing up with your favorite snacks and drinks, surprising you with gifts he claims “just made me think of you.”

One evening, he shows up at your door holding a bouquet of wildflowers. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you,” he says, handing them to you with a grin. “Thought you might need these.”

The flowers seem flawless and smell wonderful. You let him in your apartment, your heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness.

Over time, you notice how precise his attention is. He seems to know exactly what you need. When you mention being cold, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders without a word. When you casually mention a book you’ve been wanting to read ever since you saw it in the library, it shows up on your doorstep the next day with a small note attached to it.

One evening, he takes you to a small park outside of town. A picnic is already waiting. Jaemin is sitting there on a blanket waiting for you to arrive.

“How did you pull this off?” you ask, laughing as you sit down. “It’s like you read my mind.” Just a few days ago, you read a chapter in your book in which the two main characters had also gone on a similar date.

Jaemin grins as he pours you a glass of sparkling cider. “I just know you. That’s what love is, isn’t it? Knowing someone better than they know themselves.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, though you force a smile. You’re not sure why they unsettle you. It’s sweet, isn’t it? That he knows you so well?

As you sit together, Jaemin leans back on his elbows, watching you. “You’re perfect,” he says quietly. “I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s like... you’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

The intensity of his gaze makes you look away, your cheeks heating. But something in his tone feels too polished, almost like he’s practiced it. You brush it off, telling yourself you’re overthinking.

It’s when you go out in town together that you start to notice how people act around him.

At the bakery, Mrs. Kim’s hands tremble as she rings up his order. Her smile is forced, and she avoids looking him in the eye.

After you leave, you curiously ask Jaemin about that interaction, “Was that... normal? She seemed kind of scared of you.”

Jaemin shrugs, brushing it off. “She’s just shy. Some people are like that.”

You’re not convinced, Mrs. Kim never seemed shy when the two of you worked together. But his casual tone makes it hard to push, so you let it slide for now.

—

Later, at the market, a man accidentally bumps into Jaemin, knocking over a fruit display. The man’s face seems to pale as he stammers out apologies, frantically trying to fix the mess. Jaemin couldn’t control the scowl that emerged on his face, as the man scurried away.

You lean toward Jaemin, whispering, “It was just an accident. You don’t need to glare at him like that.”

Jaemin turns to you, smiling again. “I wasn’t glaring,” he says calmly. “People here are just... respectful. They know better than to be careless.”

The edge in his voice makes your stomach twist, but you’re unsure how to respond.

—

That evening, when he takes you back to your apartment, you decide to bring it up again. “Jaemin, do you notice how nervous people are around you? It’s like they’re scared of you or something.” 

Jaemin pauses, and for a split second, you swear that his image cracked before snapping back into place. “It’s not fear,” he says, his tone even. “It’s respect. People here understand boundaries. They treat each other the right way. Don’t you feel it? Safer, calmer, happier?”

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel like he’s waiting for you to agree. You nod slowly, though a part of you doesn’t want to. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just... different from what I’m used to.”

Jaemin steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s why you belong here,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “Somewhere where no one will ever hurt you again.”

The way he says it makes your breath hitch. They’re comforting, but there’s a weight to his words that leaves you uneasy.

—

Later that night, lying in bed, you replay the day’s events in your head—Mrs. Kim’s trembling hands, the man at the market, and the way Jaemin’s smiles sometimes feel too sharp, too practiced, too unsettling. You try to tell yourself it’s nothing, that you’re just adjusting to this new place, this new life, and a new relationship. But deep down, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have. Something about Jaemin and this town feels off. The cracks are starting to form.

It’s the little things at first.

The mirror above your dresser shatters without warning while you’re brushing your hair, splintering your reflection. You freeze, staring at your fragmented reflection. It almost looks like your face is splintering apart. You reach out, your hand hovering just inches from the broken surface. 

The door suddenly swings open, and Jaemin who was staying the night appears, his expression calm. “What happened?” He reaches out to stop your fingers from touching the broken glass.

“I don’t know.” you stammer. “It just… cracked. I didn’t even touch it” You shook your head, trying to process what you just saw. 

He steps forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he examines the mirror. “It’s probably old. I’ll get you a new one. Don’t worry about it.” But something about his tone that makes you feel like he’s brushing it off on purpose. 

Later, you catch him staring at the shattered mirror, his reflection fragmented into dozens of pieces.

—

The next time you’re at Jaemin’s house while walking through the hallway, you notice the wallpaper seemingly peeling at the edges. Stepping closer seems to reveal a dark surface beneath. Your fingers trace along the seam absentmindedly, curiosity getting the best of you. When you gently tug the loose edge, a chunk tears free, exposing the wood underneath. It was blackened and warped, as though it’s been rotting for years.

You stare at it, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. How could a house so immaculate have something like this hidden beneath its surface?

“What are you doing?”

You whirl around, the scrap of wallpaper still in your hand as you turn to face Jaemin in the hallway. He’s standing behind you, quiet and still. “It was already peeling,” you say quickly. “I just wanted to see what was underneath.”

His eyes flicker to the exposed wood, then back to you. For a split second, his face seems to literally crack almost like his face was supposedly ceramic, before mending itself together. “I’ll fix it. You don’t need to worry about things like this.”

He steps closer, gently taking the torn wallpaper from your hands. His touch is light and tender, but the air feels different now.

“You shouldn’t bother with things that aren’t important,” Jaemin says softly, his tone almost pleading. “Just focus on us. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

You nod, but as he turns away, you notice his grip on the torn wallpaper tighten, his knuckles whitening as he walks down the hall.

—

The cracks aren’t just in the walls or the mirrors. They’re in him, too, and maybe you weren’t hallucinating when you saw his skin actually crack.

One night, you’re sitting together in his living room, the fireplace filling the room with warmth. Jaemin’s hand is wrapped around yours, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles against your skin.

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve this. You. You’re too perfect for someone like me.”

You laugh softly, brushing off his words. “You’re being dramatic again.”

He looks at you then, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world spins. His eyes are dark, almost bottomless, and there’s something lurking there—something raw and desperate, as though he’s holding on to you with every ounce of his being. Jaemin’s voice trembles slightly. “I mean it. You don’t understand how much you matter to me. I can’t lose you.”

There’s an intensity in his words that makes your heart race, but not in the way it usually does. You try to look away, but his grip on your hand tightens, not painfully, but enough to make you pause.

Then his expression changes. His smile fades, and his face hardens. The cracks start to appear again, this time more obvious than before.

You pull your hand away slightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Jaemin. You don’t have to worry about that.”

His smile returns instantly, the cracks once again vanishing as though they had never been there. “I know. I just get... carried away sometimes.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but even as his lips brush your skin, the unease still lingers.

—

It gets worse after that. The cracks spread everywhere. Not just to the mirrors and walls, but to everything in the town. One night, the streetlight outside your building starts flickering which casts shadows across the pavement. The ground seems to ripple as if the cobblestones were water rather than stone. 

When you tell Jaemin about it, he dismisses it with that too-smooth tone you’ve come to dread.

“You’ve been working too much. You need to rest. You’re probably just really tired.”

But you know what you saw.

—

The tipping point comes when you’re alone at his house again. You’re standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, the edges of the glass framed by intricate gold. As you stare at your reflection, the surface begins to distort. Slowly, your features start stretching unnaturally, twisting your perception. You blink, and the image snaps back to normal.

But when you look closer, you realize your reflection isn’t blinking anymore. It’s staring at you, unblinking and unmoving, a faint smile curling at the corners of its lips.

“Stop looking so hard.”

You spin around to find Jaemin standing in the doorway, his eyes darker than usual.

He smiles at you faintly, “Some things aren’t meant to be questioned.”

His words echo in your mind long after he leaves the room. You stare at the mirror again, but this time, you don’t dare move closer.

The first argument starts late at night, the room dimly lit, with untouched plates of food between the two of you. Your frustration finally boils over after weeks of feeling watched, cornered, and controlled.

You stand up suddenly. “I need space, Jaemin. I can’t keep doing this.”

His smile vanishes, replaced by something unreadable. He leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, his gaze pierces through you. “Space? From me?”

You nod, your voice shaking. “Yes. From you, from... this. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. Everything’s too... perfect. It doesn’t feel real.”

For a moment, Jaemin says nothing. His jaw tightens, and his fingers drum against the table. When he finally speaks, his tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that sends a chill through you. “After everything I’ve done for you, you want to leave?”

“I’m not saying I’m leaving,” you start, trying to explain, “I’m just saying I need–”

He stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His voice rises, cutting you off. “You don’t need anything! I’ve given you everything! This town, this life, me... Isn’t that enough for you?”

You take a step back, started by his outburst. You can literally hear your heart pounding now. His sudden anger feels like a slap in the face, shattering the careful illusion of calm he’s always maintained. “You’re not listening to me, Jaemin. I never asked for this perfect little world you’ve created. I just wanted you.”

That seems to break something in him. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You need this. You need me. Without me, you’d be miserable. Lost.” He moves closer, his face contorting with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

You shake your head, tears blurring your vision. “No, Jaemin. That’s what you want me to believe.”

His expression darkens further, and for the first time, you see the cracks in his carefully constructed mask—the raw emotion, the fury barely contained beneath his flawless exterior. “Don’t do this. Don’t ruin everything. This is our paradise. Our dream.” His words come out frantic as if he’s trying to convince both you and himself.

“Paradise?” You step further back, your voice still firm. “This isn’t paradise, Jaemin. This is a prison.”

And that’s when Jaemin snaps.

“You don’t get it!” His voice is sharp as it rings through the house. “Paradise is only perfect if you don’t leave!”

The words crash over you, the weight of their meaning sinking into your chest. His voice echoes in your mind, melodic and haunting, like a line from a song you can’t escape.

“I am your paradise. Your dream. Everything you’ve ever wanted. Why can’t you just see that? Why can’t you just stay?” His voice breaks on the last word, and for a moment, you see something raw and vulnerable in his eyes. 

But then his expression hardens again, the desperation twisting into something darker and terrifying.

“I won’t let you ruin this,” he growls, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you won’t stay willingly, I’ll make sure you don’t leave. You’re mine, and nothing will ever change that.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in. “Jaemin... this isn’t love.”

The words seem to shatter him. His face contorts with rage, his hands slowly balling into fists at his sides. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare.”

You take another step back, your eyes darting toward the door, your instincts screaming at you to run. You’ve never felt this kind of fear before.

“You don’t understand. I am love. Everything else is broken, but I’m perfect. For you. For us.” The air between you is heavy, suffocating. Jaemin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes wild.

The words hang in the air, a chilling reminder that the man you thought you knew isn’t the man standing in front of you anymore. 

—

The morning after your argument, you decide to leave. You don’t even know where you’ll go—just that you need to get out of this suffocating place, away from Jaemin and his unnerving obsession.

You pack a small bag with trembling hands, glancing nervously out the window. The streets outside are eerily quiet, the friendliness of the town somehow feels more oppressive than ever.

As you step out of your apartment, your heart sinks. Jaemin is leaning casually against the streetlamp in front of your building, his hands in his pockets and his ever-perfect smile in place.

“Going somewhere, love?”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You force yourself to stay calm, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. “I need some time to myself.”

He tilts his head, studying you intently. “Time to yourself? That doesn’t sound like you. Where would you even go?”

The question catches you off guard. He’s right… you’ve never seen anything beyond this town. …Have you? You don’t even know if there is anything beyond this town. You’ve never ventured out of this town. You’ve lived here all your life. With Jaemin. Just Jaemin.

The thought sends a jolt through you. What is happening?

You shake it off, your voice firmer now. “Anywhere but here, Jaemin. I need to think.”

For a moment, his smile falters. But then it’s back, brighter than ever and more unsettling. “You don’t need to leave to think. Stay here. Let me help you.”

You shake your head, stepping past him, but his hand shoots out, gently grabbing your wrist–not harshly, but enough to stop you in place.

“Don’t do this, Y/N. You’ll regret it.”

You wrench your arm free and start walking, as your heart continues to pound in your chest. His voice follows you, soft and calm yet terrifyingly firm.

“You’ll be back. You always come back. You can never escape.”

—

The next few days are a nightmare. No matter where you go, Jaemin is there. You spot him in the café, sitting in the same seat he first approached you in, watching you with that same perfect smile. He’s waiting outside your apartment when you get home from work, leaning against the doorframe like he belongs there.

You even see him in places he shouldn’t be—on the other side of the street when you’re at the grocery store, standing in the shadows of an alley when you’re walking to clear your mind.

You confront him once, your patience snaps. “Are you following me? What the hell, Jaemin?”

He just smiles, tilting his head like you’ve said something funny. “I’m just making sure you’re safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know. To keep you safe.”

It’s infuriating, how calm he is, how he manages to twist every accusation into a declaration of his “love.”

It’s not just Jaemin. The entire town seems to conspire against you. The people smile too widely, their eyes never quite meeting yours. Conversations feel hollow like they’re reciting lines from a script rather than speaking from the heart.

At the market, the woman at the counter refuses to sell you a bus ticket.

“What do you mean, there’s no way out?”

“There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” she says, her tone unnervingly kind. “Everything you need is here.”

Her words echo Jaemin’s, and a sickening realization begins to settle in. You leave the market, your chest tight with frustration and fear.

Even your apartment feels wrong. The walls seem to close in on you, the air growing heavier. You swear you hear whispers late at night, but when you check, no one is there.

—

The final straw comes one night when you confront Jaemin in his house. You storm into his pristine living room, the air thick with tension.

“What is going on, Jaemin? Why is everyone acting like this? Why can’t I leave this town?”

He’s seated calmly on the couch, his hands resting on his knees. When he looks up, his perfect smile is in place, but this time, it carries an edge of something darker. “Why would you want to leave? Everything here is perfect. You’re perfect. We’re perfect.”

“Stop saying that!” you shout, your voice trembling. “Nothing about this is perfect. It’s all fake!”

His expression hardens slightly, though the smile remains. “Fake? Is that what you think? You think the life I built for us is fake?”

You freeze, the weight of his words sinking in. “What do you mean... ‘built’?”

He stands slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he’s giving you time to process. “This town, the people, everything you see—it’s all for you. For us. I created it because I knew you needed something better. Something perfect.”

Your stomach drops, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “That’s... that’s not possible.” 

He steps closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “I’ve given you everything, Y/N. A world where you don’t have to worry, where nothing can hurt you. I’ve even given you pieces of myself—my love, my time, my devotion. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”

Your voice shakes as you respond. “This isn’t happiness, Jaemin. This is control.”

His jaw tightens, the cracks in his composure finally showing. “No. No, you’re wrong. This is love. I’ve made it perfect for you. Don’t you see? You don’t have to fight anymore. Just... let go.”

You back away, your mind racing. Everything starts to make sense now—the way people seem hollow, the strange cracks in the world, the way Jaemin always seems to know your every thought.

The truth suddenly dawns on you. “Even me... You’ve been controlling me, haven’t you?”

He hesitates. The silence stretches for a moment too long before he replies, his voice softer, almost pleading. “I didn’t want to control you. I just wanted to protect you. To keep you here, where it’s safe. You’re... you’re slipping away from me, Y/N. And if you go, this world will crumble. I can’t let that happen.”

His words are a plea and a threat all at once, and for the first time, you see him for what he truly is: not just a possessive lover, but the creator of this fragile, crumbling reality.

You spend the next few days searching for an escape, though you’re not entirely sure what “escape” even means in this twisted, fabricated reality. The cracks in the world are growing more pronounced—literal fissures splitting the pavement, flickers of darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, and moments where the townspeople freeze mid-motion, like broken puppets.

And Jaemin? He’s watching you closer than ever, though he never confronts you outright. You can feel his eyes on you wherever you go, a shadow that clings to your every step.

One night, while Jaemin is out, you find it—a journal hidden beneath a loose floorboard in your apartment. The pages are filled with strange symbols, diagrams, and what looks like fragmented memories of Jaemin’s thoughts.

One entry catches your eye:

"The anchor must never break. She is the key to keeping the world whole. Without her, there’s nothing."

Your heart races as you piece it together. You’re not just a prisoner in Jaemin’s world—you’re the foundation of it. If you can sever your connection to this place, the entire illusion might collapse. But how?

—

You decide you have to confront him. But not to beg or plead for your freedom—that won’t work. Jaemin is too possessive, too desperate to let you go willingly. No, you’ll have to trick him into believing that you’ve finally given in.

The next evening, you find him at his house. He’s in the living room, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. His expression is distant, almost melancholic.

“Jaemin?”

He turns, and his face lights up when he sees you, the sadness replaced by his usual serene smile. “Y/N. I was wondering when you’d come back to me.”

You force yourself to smile, stepping closer. “You were right. About everything. I’ve been fighting against you, against this... and I don’t know why. It’s perfect here. You’re perfect.”

His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in them. “You mean that?”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve been scared. But I see it now—you love me more than anyone ever could. You’ve built this world for me, and I want to stay.” You reach out to his hand.

His grip tightens on your hand, his smile growing as he pulls you into his arms. “I knew you’d understand. I knew you’d see how much I love you.”

You let him hold you, burying your face against his chest to hide the fear and repulsion you know must be showing on your face.

—

Over the next few days, you pretend to settle into the life Jaemin has crafted for you. You let him dote on you, let the townspeople’s eerie smiles wash over you without flinching. All the while, you gather the pieces you need.

You find an old map in the library, one that shows a strange, unfinished road on the outskirts of town. You overhear snippets of conversation from the townspeople—hushed whispers about “the edge” and “the boundary.”

And then, one night, you’re ready.

You and Jaemin are sitting together in his living room, the fire casting warm light across the walls. You rest your head on his shoulder, your voice is soft and trembling. “There’s just one thing I need to feel... whole.”

“Anything, my love. Just tell me.” He looks down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Take me to the edge of the town. I want to see where it all ends. I want to understand this world you’ve made for me.”

His expression falters. “The edge isn’t important. Everything you need is right here.”

You sit up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes pleading. “Please, Jaemin. I want to see it with you. I want to understand your love fully. Don’t you want me to?”

He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. Finally, he nods reluctantly. “If that’s what you want.”

—

He drives you to the edge of town in silence, his grip on the steering wheel tight. The road grows darker the further you go, the world outside the car fading into an inky void.

When he stops, the road ahead simply... ends. Beyond it is nothingness, a swirling expanse of black that seems to pulse and writhe.

“This is as far as it goes. There’s nothing out there. Nothing but chaos.”

You step out of the car, your heart racing. “It’s beautiful.”

Jaemin watches you carefully as you approach the edge.

You turn back to him. “Thank you for showing me this. I... I trust you.”

For a moment, his face softens, and you see his vulnerability once again beneath the perfection. “You mean everything to me. You always have.”

As his attention wavers, you make your move. You sprint toward the edge, your bag clutched tightly in your hands.

Jaemin notices and panics. “Y/N! Stop!”

He now stands in front of you, his usually perfect expression unhinged, desperation seeping through every word. “You can’t leave. You don’t understand what’s out there. It’s chaos. Pain. No one will love you like I do. No one will protect you like I have.”

“This isn’t love, Jaemin. This is a prison. You don’t love me—you love the idea of me, the version you can control. But I’m not yours to keep.”

He steps closer, his once-gentle eyes are now sharp, glinting with anger and fear. “If you leave, you’ll regret it. Out there, you’ll be nothing. A speck. Here, you’re everything. My everything.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening as the house begins to shudder. The cracks spread faster now, the walls peeling to reveal nothingness beyond. This world is breaking apart, and so is he. “I’d rather be nothing than lose myself to you.”

Jaemin’s expression softens for a brief moment—hurt flashing across his face. He reaches for you, his hand trembling as if he’s trying to hold on to what’s slipping away.

“Please… don’t go. You’ll die out there. This place… it’s all I have.”

But you’ve already made your choice. You step back, closer to the edge of the crumbling reality. The air feels thin, the edges of the world curling in on themselves like burning paper. Behind Jaemin, you see the town collapsing—the people disintegrating into ash, their empty smiles vanishing with them.

With one last look at him, you whisper, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

And then you leap into the void.

Life had been okay after you escaped. Moving again would’ve been the best option in this case. 

The train slows to a halt, the perfect little town laid out in front of your eyes.

You step onto the platform, the scent of flowers filling the air. The town looks clean, almost like it was plucked straight from a storybook or a carefully curated dream. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, reassuring yourself that this was exactly what you wanted. A fresh start. A clean break from everything you left behind.

You set your bag down and begin unpacking, each item you pull out grounding you a little more in this place. A simpler life. A quieter life. That’s what you need, far from the chaos of before.

The next morning, you step into your new job at the café. It’s a quaint little shop with pastel walls and rows of pastries so perfect they could be in a magazine. The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread wraps around you like a warm hug.

The owner greets you with a wide smile. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and her voice is both kind and commanding. “Welcome, dear,” she says. “I can tell you’re nervous, but you’ll fit in just fine. Everyone does.”

As you settle into the rhythm of the café, you notice how everything is perfectly simple. You glance out the window, and for a split second, you think you see a figure standing at the edge of the square.

Your breath catches, but when you blink, the figure is gone. You shake your head and return to wiping down the counter.

It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Just nerves. After all, this is the fresh start you wanted.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip

apologies for the trauma. you are all entitled to no financial compensation. hope you enjoyed your stay!

[trombonechurchill]

At a Glance

Josh Russo/Carson Hayes, 1.7k words, Rated T Fic for @911whatisyourpride's Week 1: Firsts Read on Ao3 HERE or below:

It's annoying that Carson looked so good even mussed up, sweaty, and sooty. Josh is sure he in turn looks like a drowned rat. Maybe a singed rat. A rat having a bad day who needs a good long hour in the bath tub and several products before attempting any sort of flirting going on here.

But he doesn't have any of that right now. What he does have is Carson's hand gripped tightly in his and the life affirming rush of narrowly escaping catastrophe together that's pushing Josh to do something stupid about it. Like ask Carson to run away with him.

The paramedic currently eying their joined hands as the gurney reaches the back of the ambulance thankfully nips that thought in the bud before it can get past Josh's lips, which he's grateful for even if it does look like she's now trying to decide how to gently disentangle the pair of them. Josh isn't sure he's ready to let go just yet.

"Is he stable enough for a quick second?" He asked her, eyes as wide and pathetic as he can get them (he learned from the best after all, one doesn't hang with Maddie Buckley every day and not pick up a few tricks).

"He'll hold for a minute or two," she said cautiously, stepping up into the ambulance, enough to give them the facsimile of privacy with a quick nod while stilling keeping an eye on Carson's vitals. Josh resisted the urge to press his own fingers to the pulse at Carson's wrist. He's not sure what base that would be, but he doesn't think they're quite at listening to each other's heart beats levels. Heck, they're not even past the awkward flirting stage, if you could call their conversations earlier today that. Josh wouldn't mind changing that though.

"Oh uh, if you don't mind," Josh said belatedly, glancing back down to where Carson's essentially being held captive. Another fantasy Josh wishes he could indulge in under much less dire circumstances. He'll put a pin in it. Get a grip, Russo.

"Please, I kinda thought I was a goner down there. I don't know how those guys found me-"

"Oh, I told them." Josh doesn't balk, but it's a close thing, tries to cover the admission at the wondrous look it stirred in Carson's eyes. This was not the smooth flirting Josh had in mind when he walked over here. "Uh, mind like a steel trap, I know where everyone is in my house." Josh awkwardly taps on the side of his head and Carson smiles, slow and tired and beatific in a way Josh has only seen in the movies.

"You remembered me?"

"How could I forget?" Josh said it without thinking, only catches himself because of the way Carson's eyes soften, wonders briefly if Carson hit his head and he can blame the stupid things currently coming out of Josh's mouth on a head injury. "I mean, you're quite memorable," Josh added. Apparently he's given up on any hope of coming across cool and suave. Let's be honest, Josh probably lost that hope the second he clapped eyes on Carson in the server room. Sincere and dorky thy name is Josh Russo.

"Well, thanks. I'd never really fancied the idea of dying in a basement," Carson said. Josh is struck by the fact that they're still holding hands. Tries not to think too hard about how gross and sweaty it must feel for Carson. Josh probably lost feeling in his hands the second everyone realized Dispatch was on fire and all the blood rushed to the pit of his stomach in a flood of anxiety induced adrenaline. He twitched his fingers just to be sure. It makes Carson smile.

Josh is such a goner.

Thankfully, Carson chimes in again before Josh manages to spout off any alarming statistics about the number of 9-1-1 calls he's fielded from people in basements. "Hey, you're not hurt right? Did someone check you over?" He punctuates the question with a gentle brush of his thumb over Josh's cheekbone. In his mind's eye, Josh sees Carson's hand raise and move towards him in slow motion, helpless to the press of skin on skin and the way his eyelids flutter.

Even nearly incapacitated, Carson is winning more boyfriend points than any of his past trysts combined. Which is probably telling in more ways than one. Especially since Josh called them trysts. What is he, a 70 year old grandma? Honestly, he wishes. This is what he gets for watching nothing but Golden Girls through his whole childhood.

And he thought of Carson as boyfriend material. Can't help but think Carson might be having similar thoughts. Is that love in your eyes or is it just the possible head trauma? Josh might need to have his head checked too as he returns the motion, brushing a thumb over Carson's cheekbone, feels the catch and drag of stubble on the pad of his thumb. His heart is in his throat and Josh has never felt more alive, skin buzzing. If this is a concussion well, bring on the brain damage.

His palm was still on Carson's cheek, gentle, gentle, like he's some fragile thing, and Josh swallows. Swallows down the fear and the doubt as he leaned forward. Pressed his lips feather-light to Carson's temple, feels the brush of that gorgeous mane of hair tickle his cheek as he pulled back. Tries not to focus too much on the taste of sweat lingering on his lips. Or whether he now had soot smeared all over his face.

Carson looked like someone just knocked his lights out. Or maybe like he got electrocuted and had his leg broken; a level of shocked devastation on his face that has Josh ready to bolt. Is there a subtle way to untangle their hands so Josh can make a quick escape? God why are they still holding hands? Why did he kiss him?

"Wait, wait," Carson fumbled to grab for Josh, hand landing on top of their still joined fingers where Josh has in fact failed to pull away, stilling them instantly. "Sorry, I wasn't ready. I think the drugs are kicking in," Carson's smile was still gorgeous, lop-sided as he stared hopefully up at him. At Josh of all people. Josh doesn't get it. "Can I get a do-over?"

"You want a do-over? Of me kissing the side of your face?" Josh tries to to keep his incredulity to appropriate limits but it's a close thing. Carson nodded. Josh's own answering smile fought its way onto his face, helpless in Carson's presence to be anything other than completely and utterly smitten it seems.

"I thought maybe your aim was off," Carson offered slowly, giving their joint hands a little tug.

"Oh, sure, yeah. Let's go with that."

As far as first kisses go, it's not what Josh would have envisioned when trying to dream up his ideal. Carson still smelled like burnt hair and something lingering and metallic Josh tried not to think about too much. Josh himself was fending off the adrenaline crash induced trembling that's threatening to take over his whole body by the skin of his teeth. But it's still perfect. A dry brush of lips that pressed into something more insistent as Josh brought his hands up to cup Carson's face. A promise of something more, later. Room for improvement that Josh is suddenly certain he'll have a chance to explore.

He pulled away, lips and skin buzzing. He wondered briefly if you can get a contact high from morphine. Maybe he should try kissing Carson again just to see. Maybe it's just him. Magic lips or something. Josh needed someone to hose him off, he needs to calm down over here. This is what people mean when they use the word 'giddy'. Josh isn't sure he's experienced before as he took a shuddering breath. Carson is hurt and injured and beautiful and Josh wanted nothing more than to take him and fret and fawn over him forever.

Maybe he should at least start with asking him to get dinner. Lunch maybe, he amends after a quick look at where Carson's face is drawn at the edges. Breakfast. He could bring him breakfast at the hospital tomorrow. He should ask, before he looses his nerves. If this all blew up in his face he can always pretend Carson hallucinated it on the morphine anyway. Most of the firefighters here owe him a favor, he could get them to corroborate.

Carson was still looking at him like that. Like Josh is worth looking at. Josh's mouth opened before he can think better of it-

"This really isn't the best time to be asking you this, considering-"

"That I'm not wearing pants."

"-That you're high on morphine- Wait I'm sorry what happened to your pants?" Josh spluttered, brain short circuiting as his eyes involuntarily jumped to Carson's lap and back like he'd been caught peeping, heat rising on his cheeks.

"The two firefighter guys you sent. They cut open my pants."

"Oh. Well I didn't tell them to do that. For the record," Josh said, training his gaze intently on Carson's face. His stupid handsome face. If there was anyone up there looking out for Josh at all, hopefully Carson would not remember this part of the conversation tomorrow. Or ever.

"What did you want to ask?" Carson asked softly, looking like a vision even on a gurney with bedhead, hair fanned out on the starched sheet under him, eyes soft as he gazed- straight up gazed, Josh doesn't think he's had anyone gaze at him in his life. Not like this. Beautiful brown eyes that Josh could literally get lost in isn't that a hoot-

"Wh-what? Oh, it doesn't matter," Josh said quickly, voice softening as Carson once again linked their fingers together.

"Maybe you could tell me tomorrow," Carson offered, smiling the knowing smile of someone drugged to the gills and being loaded into an ambulance.

"Yeah. Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good," Josh said, giving Carson's hand an extra squeeze. And maybe the day after that too. And after that-

[novantinuum]

Crack the Paragon - Chapter 15 - Novantinuum - Steven Universe (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 5.6K+ Summary: In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops. Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which time hardened loyalties are tested, and nothing will ever be the same.

Hey, guess what, I'm not dead *shoots off small confetti canon*

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

_

Chapter 15: Allegiance

For obvious reasons, their trip through the warp stream is rife with enough unresolved tension to snap a rubber band clear in half.

Amethyst sighs under her breath, tugging Steven closer to her side as she tries her darnedest to not so much as spare a stray glance at their ‘guest.’ Even Peridot— suspended midair right next to her— doesn’t seem very interested in entertaining idle conversation with the disgruntled Beta quartz. Instead, she curls her body inwards around Ruby’s inert gemstone while the four of them (said unwanted ‘guest’ included) are towed along by the chiming siren call of their ultimate destination.

One thing’s for damn sure… today hasn’t gone anything like she expected.

She didn’t expect to take an impromptu field trip to another kindergarten she never knew existed. She didn’t expect to— in that very kindergarten— be faced with a whole army of trapped, terrified corrupted Gems. And she absolutely didn’t expect to almost beat Jasper in a spur-of-the-moment fight, let alone while fused with Steven.

Speaking of Steven…

Frowning, she glances down at the boy clutched against her chest… safe and conscious and alert, but oh-so exhausted. Oh-so burdened. At first their sudden fusion came as a joyous surprise, but now—

Averting her gaze once more, Amethyst tries not to dwell upon the scattered myriad of disturbing images that flickered through Smoky’s destabilizing mind right before they fell apart. H-he… he’s gotta be fine now, yeah? All that stuff he’s gone through… getting cracked by someone he thought was an ally, splitting in two… it’s over. Done. A thing of the past. None of it can physically touch him any more than a stray dream can influence one’s lived reality. Which is to say, not at all.

Still, though.

When this matter with Jasper is finally resolved, she really should pull the lil’ guy aside and check in with him. She’s been such a stuck-up ass to everyone lately, so it’s the least he deserves.

But enough digression. The gentle tug of gravity is enough to coax her attention back to what really matters: their gatecrashing houseguest.

“This is your base?” Jasper spits out the second they arrive back at the temple on the warp pad.

“Uhh… yes?” Amethyst says with a narrowed side glance, stepping off the pad with Steven in tow, the two linked hand-in-hand. Peridot follows close behind.

Their guest lets out a boisterous laugh, one filled with more disdainful mirth than she ever knew a single person was capable of discharging on their own.

She bristles, clenching her fingers around Steven’s even tighter. “And what exactly is so funny about that? Maybe I should remind you, but you’re in our territory now, capiche?”

“And that’s just it,” Jasper says with a bit of a snide snicker still coloring her tone, planting a solid fist against her hip. “I knew you Crystal Gems were stuck in the past, but— using this planet’s brittle organics as your base’s fortifications? How are any of you lowlifes still intact?”

“Stubbornness,” she hisses through gritted teeth. And oh hoh-oh, does it take every last crumb of self-restraint available not to just whirl around and wail her in the face right this instant.

‘Cause absolutely none of this was supposed to happen. Jasper was never supposed to infiltrate the house, much less due to her shortsightedness. Just, ugh. She should’ve listened when Peridot suggested they seek backup, or when Ruby and Steven first tried to offer their aid during the fight. She never should’ve pushed them away, never should’ve tried to spar that damned quartz alone. But instead, she failed at every turn— she got so caught up in the turbulent riptide of her own stupid feelings that she got Ruby poofed, dragged Steven into a battle that was never his to begin with, and led the enemy straight into the now shattered safety of their home.

Yikes. What a mess she’s made of things today.

“Hey, where is everyone?” Steven asks then, planting a momentary stopper on whatever beef was starting to simmer between the two of them stubborn quartzes again.

Amethyst’s brows thread inwards as she breaks away from him to peer around the space. Huh, yeah. It looks like Pearl and Sapphire went out. All the lights in the main living area are off, and none of the gems on the temple door are lit up, which suggests they’re not in their rooms. So where on Earth could they have gone?

“Pah. You’d even leave your base unguarded?” Jasper comments, leaning up against the kitchen counter like she thinks she owns the place or whatever and crossing her arms over her chest.

Boiling with frustration, she stamps her foot. “No—! I… augh, that’s what we’re here for!”

“Why do you even want to talk to the other Gems, anyways?” Steven asks with a deepening frown, tilting his head as he crosses the room to stand next to Peridot. “I mean, you already defeated Ruby,” he says in as blunt a tone he can muster, his volume steadily increasing as he gestures towards the gemstone in his neighbor’s careful grasp, “so… so why go to all this trouble to begin with? If you doubt our story… and you hate Rose and everything she stands for so much… why not just finish the job while you’re ahead and poof all of us?”

“Geeze, don’t give her any bright ideas, Steven,” Amethyst mutters from the corner of her lips, glance narrowing.

Jasper merely huffs in response. “A soldier doesn’t discuss strategy with the enemy. But mark my words, I will get the answers I seek… even if that means dragging the truth right out of you miserable lot.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she snorts right back. “If it’s answers you want, I’ve got some real bad news for ya’: none of us know the full truth, either.”

“Uh, Steven? Amethyst?” Peridot nabs their attention from the end of the kitchen counter. She holds up a sheet of paper with what looks to be Pearl’s neat, loopy handwriting on it.

“Lemme see that,” she hums, crossing over to grab the paper.

Trouble at the barn, it reads. Meet us there when you return.

She scowls. “Trouble at the barn—? But that means…”

“Lapis!” Peridot and Steven cry out in unison. Then, splitting off into their own individual, overlapping concerns:

“Stars, I never should’ve left her there alone—”

“We have to check if she’s okay!”

Folding her lips taut as she contemplates all the dizzying complexities of this situation, she widens her stance. Clenches her fists at her side, whirls around to face their house guest with as much manufactured authority as she can possibly muster as one undercooked runt of a quartz all on her own.

“You, sit here and stay put,” she says, jabbing her finger towards their prickly little visitor. “And don’t get any big shot ideas about messin’ with our stuff while we’re gone, got it? You can fish for your answers or whatever else it is you want when the others are back.”

Jasper scoffs, staring down her nose (well… the precise positioning of her gem kinda gives the impression of a nose—?) at them. “Stay behind? Not a chance. If the rest of your Crystal Gems are there, then I’m coming with you.”

“Oh, great. Of course you are,” she comments flatly with a great big exacerbated roll of her eyes, her syllables long and drawn out.

Welp. It was still worth a shot. _

Another quick trek across this planet’s vast warp network later, Amethyst and her little ragtag band of followers arrive in the nearby countryside nestled in the hills just a few miles south from Beach City. She fights to bite back her grimace as she beckons the group to march forward, Steven kept in the reassuring security of her hold. The barn isn’t in visual range yet, but good ol’ P’s dulcet tones are hard to miss.

She can’t lie— she’s long fantasized about this very hour… in another time, another place… in a completely different set of circumstances. She’s long harbored idle imaginings of carrying Jasper’s bubbled gemstone home, of Steven’s innocent, starry-eyed amazement when he learns she took her down completely solo, of Garnet and Pearl’s glowing praise for this momentous accomplishment. Failing that, she’s dreamt of tying her up in the thorny cord of her whip… of dragging her sorry, worthless ass back to the temple for an intensive interrogation wholly under her own power. All of this to say, presenting Jasper to the Gems was supposed to be her big moment. Her chance to prove to them (but mostly to herself) that she’s capable of being more than just a second rate rebel. She loves Steven, yes, but she’ll never forgive herself if she lets a kid overpass her in sheer martial ability. She’s supposed to be a quartz soldier, for stars’ sake!

So to tread ever closer to this inevitable confrontation with Ruby’s poofed gemstone in hand… to march back to the others at their enemy’s brutish demand instead of her own… it’s an outright disgrace.

Or, it would have been if not for the far more pressing issue that leaps into the forefront the split second the barn enters her view.

The hard-light pouring through Amethyst’s channels stutters. Pearl and Sapphire are poised at full alarm at Lapis’ side, expressions clouded with poorly hidden worry. And Lapis, well… her attention is locked upon her familiar batch of captives, held aloft within her watery clutches.

“The Ruby squad!” Steven cries, eyes blowing wide. He yanks out of her grip and darts ahead before she can even attempt to catch him. “They’re back already—?”

The other two Crystal Gems whirl around to meet his call in a flash, wildly differing flavors of shock painting their features when they match eyes with the ‘guest’ Amethyst’s brought along. Pearl gasps. Sapphire sweeps her bangs aside for a second look, as if still doubting the validity of the chaotic present they’ve all stumbled into. Even the rubies seem to respond to their arrival, their panicked babbling— halfway unintelligible through the watery shell of their prisons— intensifying upon the visual receipt of their rescue mission’s objective.

Lapis is the last to react. Right as she glances over her shoulder to regard the ragtag group, her voice warbles with— at first— nothing but fondness and well meaning concern.

“Steven! I—”

She cuts herself off the instant her eyes lock with Jasper’s resentful, bitter sneer. Her form stiffens. With little warning at all, her once amicable demeanor is cast in tumultuous shadow.

“What is she doing here?” she snarls, clenching her fists.

The water bubbles encapsulating the rubies shrink in response, forcing the disgruntled lot into far more cramped and uncomfortable positions. Even Amethyst can’t help but cringe in sympathy, and she doesn’t even like any of them.

Peridot, the star that she is, takes one for the team and rushes forward to try and calm her down.

“Lapis! Lapis, we can explain!” she says, holding out her free hand in as placating a manner as she can muster.

However, the Gem in question doesn’t even allow her roommate a solitary second to clarify the situation before she bends under the pressure. Lapis takes a deep, unsteady breath… and then bursts into a dark and altogether fatuous peel of laughter, one that injects Amethyst with the sudden concern that she’s only one unstable step away from having a complete and total sanity break. Her stance solidifies, holding her line in the dry soil as she gathers her scattered wits enough to part her lips and speak.   

“You know what?” she begins, her voice streaked with just a twinge of frenzied instability. “I don’t care anymore! Don’t care why she’s here, don’t care to find out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna leave these rubies to all of you and make a very long loop around this planet—” her once manic tone twists into a far darker shade of malice as her narrowed gaze lowers upon  a bitter Jasper— “and by the time I get back I better not see you on my property again, or else we’ll both be sorry.”

Watery wings erupt from her back in a showy glimmer of light, and without sparing even a second to glance back she takes off… flying up, up, and away.

Despite full well understanding the root cause of Lapis’ distress, and that she’s like, traumatized or whatever, Amethyst can’t help but scoff under her breath at the sheer exaggerated production of her exit.

Aye, ye, ye, she thinks. Melodramatic, much?

But no matter her quiet dislike of that Gem, her departure soon leaves the rest of them scrambling for control in a way she never anticipated.

After all, the moment Lapis leaves the barn’s immediate radius her influence over the water bubbles she trapped the Homeworld rubies in wanes. One by one they pop, unceremoniously dropping each of the intruding Gems into the grass. Amethyst and every last one of her fellow Crystal Gems flinch. Pearl draws out her weapon. Sapphire’s lips purse as she drinks in the minutia of the scene, probably scanning the infinitudes of her future vision for any possible advantage that’s still open to them. Peridot shrinks back closer to Steven, cradling their own Ruby a touch tighter.

The leader of the bunch, however, is swift to recover.

“Jasper!” the ruby exclaims with zeal, adjusting her visor as she clambers to her feet. “We’ve been scouring the whole dang solar system for you!”

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” adds the one with a gem on her leg, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Some of the others are all too eager to chime in as well:

“Yeah!”

“Yeah, we even searched the entirety of Neptune!”

A frenzied maelstrom of energy surges through Amethyst’s limbs, empowering her to act in defense of the pyrrhic victory she’s fought so hard for. She summons her whip before a single one of these interlopers can cross any closer to the captive quartz in her custody.

“Back off,” she growls in a clipped tone, pushing herself to the head of their entourage and snapping the spiked cord of her weapon to an alert stance in front of her.

“Amethyst…” Pearl says in clear warning, her own grip tightening on the shaft of her spear. Sapphire, standing directly adjacent, cringes as well.

But to her great frustration, she has no chance to prove her might and show those rubies she means business before the quartz she’s supposed to have under her thumb shoves right past her.

“Hey—!”

“Out of my way, runt!” Jasper spits as she barrels forward, with pronunciation so sharp it might as well have slashed a slit through the veil of whatever’s left of her confidence. “Worthless slag like you and the rest of your Crystal Gems have no place meddling with Homeworld’s affairs.”

She growls, a sound that rumbles from deep within the unfathomable, churning abyss of her soul. Before she can rear back and fling her whip at her, however, she feels a warm hand cup against her shoulder, and in that isolated moment it’s more than enough to shatter past the broad bulk of her stubborn, imprudent rage. Her breath stills. Steven. Of course it’s Steven. Ever so gentle, he draws her away… and when she glances back to meet his eyes, his silent message— wise beyond his years— is clear even without the benefit of spoken language.

Not here, his expression pleads. Not now.

Though it’s frustrating as all hell, Amethyst relents, lowering her clenched fist and allowing her weapon to fall slack. Deep down she knows he’s right (duh, obviously he is), and it low key pisses her off. If she attacks Jasper, those rubies will be on her ass in no time flat. And if she couldn’t hold the line against one Gem alone, what chance does she have against six of them? Scowling, she pins her focus on their enemy and observes as she approaches the squad of pint-sized Homeworld soldiers, annoyingly assured in her approach.

All five of the rubies scramble to meet Jasper halfway, their faces sparkling with awe— even the cranky one with her gem where her eyeball should be.

“Jasper,” their leader says, snapping into a diamond salute, “it’s such an honor to stand in your presence. And with a whole clutch of captives under your expert command, no less, hah!”

“What do you want?” Jasper asks, clearly not impressed by their empty flattery as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“We were sent here on a mission straight from Yellow Diamond— she’s awaiting your swift return to Homeworld as we speak.”

“Hmph,” she grunts, brow pressing inwards as she stares— ever so impassively— down at this short statured Gem.

“An’ we’d take your Crystal Gem prisoners with us as well, of course!” she adds, jabbing her pointer finger aloft. “What heroes we’ll all be, a loyal batch of rubies and the Facet 9 Kindergarten Quartz Who Could, teaming up to finally bring Pink Diamond to justice!”

Amethyst gasps, reaching back to grab ahold of Steven’s arm as she contemplates this grim possibility. Stars, everything is so messed up. She messed up. She let her vitriolic emotions claim dominion over her this whole past week, and now— just because she couldn’t call it quits with her stupid, irrational revenge fantasies— she’s gotten every single person she loves at risk of being captured by Homeworld. They can try to fight all they want, yes… but there’s a dawning sense of destabilizing dread stirring within the core of her gem that they’re simply too unorganized and outmatched to have any hope of victory. Ruby’s poofed, Sapphire on her own doesn’t have any battle experience, Peridot’s a novice, Steven’s still shaken up from his whole freak out at the Kindergarten, and her—?

Well, as today’s events have already proved, she’s clearly not worth much on the battlefield, either.

It’s six against five, but only one of them is a capable enough warrior in this mess of a catastrophe to put up a halfway honorable defense.

Slow and calculated in her inspection, Jasper swivels her head to and fro… glancing with narrowed, scrutinous eyes between Steven and the squadron of rubies. She summons her helm. Amethyst finds herself shrinking back by rote instinct at that sound alone, already well acclimated to its business-like means of torment. But then…

The Beta quartz pivots around to the Homeworld Gems. In one smooth, rapid movement she swings her whole upper body down like an anvil dropping from the sky, her helm shining in the sun as it meets the rubies’ leader head-on.

Poofed in one strike.

In the absence of their mission commander the others plunge into panicked disarray. Jasper makes quick work of them, chasing down each panicking, clamoring gem in turn and resigning them all to the same fate as the first. It’s a gruesome display of raw militant prowess, and Amethyst feels compelled to clutch Steven’s fearful, tremoring form close as she— entirely powerless to look away— ogles this horror show. In mere seconds flat the last gemstone clatters into the grass, rolling a few inches or so before halting to a complete and wholly inert stop.

Her limbs tense with dread as Jasper turns towards them next. Strides forward with unquestionable composure. Peridot whisks a nearby spade into her metallokinetic control with her free hand. Pearl jolts forward with her spear brandished at the ready, yelling for her to stand down, but Amethyst finds herself too rattled by the whole situation to react. Her head swims with senseless noise and color as the quartz plants her feet in the dirt right before them. Before Steven.

The intensity of her gaze is downright piercing.

She clamps her eyelids shut with Steven in her grasp, already having resigned herself to her likely dissolution and shattering, when she hears the distinct sound of a knee striking the ground in solid fortitude.

The entire world seems to hold its breath.

Feet away from the volatile nucleus of this fated conflict, Sapphire gasps. Steven pushes himself out of her protective reach, inhaling hard and heavy.

Amethyst dares to open her eyes.

Jasper is crouched in a kneel before her little sibling, head bowed and poised in full diamond salute.

Pearl’s expression flashes with a sense of alarmed confusion. “What is she—”

“My Diamond,” their enemy utters in a formal, gravelly tone, face still entirely averted, “I cannot in good conscience return to Homeworld after learning of your fate. As such, I offer my service to you as I once served you before. Forgive me for my previous oversights. I swear to you, every action I’ve ever taken, every last step, was in hopes of avenging your shattering. I never knew the truth until now.”

Steven tugs at his collar, shuffling in place as he fumbles for what on Earth to say in response. There’s a few drops of sweat beading on his forehead.

“I-I’m… uh, at ease—?” he splutters with a bit of a nervous chuckle, his still-shaking palms outstretched in circuit tingling neutrality.

Amethyst watches in a state of crystalized shock as Jasper obeys his order without question, shifting back to her full, seven foot tall posture before him. She’s still captured within that salute, however.

“Anyways,” he continues, awkwardly rolling himself back and forth on his heels, “all that’s… um, really, really thoughtful of you, but one—” he counts off on his fingers— “I’m not actually Pink Diamond, and two, you don’t need to serve me. In fact, you don’t need to serve anyone on Earth! That’s why it’s so great here!”

“Here, here!” Peridot cheerily chimes from the sidelines, cupping her mouth between her hands.

Steven glances back, giving a faint glimmer of a grin at this show of support before returning his full attention to Jasper.

“We’d be glad for you to stay if that’s what you want,” he says, and gestures to the rest of them… Amethyst forcing a hesitant smile at this horrific, unwanted notion in spite of her objections, “but if you do, it wouldn’t be like the Homeworld you’re used to.”

Some elusive, unquantifiable emotion passes across that quartz’ severe countenance at this utterance, causing Steven to fumble in his speech.

“T-that’s… but that’s a good thing, though!” he rushes to clarify, throwing his arms out in gleeful exuberance. “That means you have the freedom to choose who you want to be, instead of just doing all the junk your leaders tell you to.”

To be frank— given the intensive manner in which Homeworld’s rhetoric permeates its loyalists— Amethyst’s not sure what else Steven expected to happen, but his disappointment is palpable as Jasper continues to hold that damned salute, issuing her full and unquestioned compliance.

“If that is your will, My Diamond.”

He scratches at the nape of his neck, exhaling a weary breath. “Hoo boy, this might take a while, huh.”

Slack jawed, Amethyst swings towards an absolutely exhausted looking Pearl, who’s standing at the sidelines with her lithe fingers pressed to the side of her head like she’s a human nursing a migraine. “Wait, are we really doing this?”

“It’s better than her trying to kill us,” she mutters from between taut lips, shrugging.

“A future where she turns on someone she considers her diamond is unlikely,” Sapphire adds, nodding her agreement. “One needs not have my ability to see that.”

With the immediate chaos of the moment now sated, the Crystal Gems surge back into action. Pearl skirts forward to retrieve all the poofed Homeworld gems from where they lay— dejected and previously forgotten— in the grass. She’s swift to bubble them, sending them off to the Burning Room with a ginger tap. Sapphire hoists her skirts and rushes towards Peridot, who gladly passes off Ruby to her care and starts rattling off about what on Earth happened back in the Beta Kindergarten. There’s a sense of near catatonic distraught woven all throughout her body language as she cups that red, square-faceted gemstone in her palms, distantly nodding from time to time as the other Gem regales her with the tale of Ruby’s daring and valiant stand against Jasper. Lightly kicking her boot upon the dirt, Amethyst shifts her observations from the others to focus back on Steven. On her favorite little guy in the whole wide world, her partner in crime, her wrestling wingman. He’s caught in a state of deep contemplation, idly tapping at the facets of his gem through the thin fabric of his cottony t-shirt. Jasper is watching him closely from a few feet away, but he pays her no heed. With a sharp inhale, she crosses over to him.

“Can we, uh… can we talk somewhere private for a moment?” she asks lowly, keeping a careful eye on You-Know-Who looming over them nearby.

Seeming distant and a bit gloomy now that all the adrenaline has worn off, Steven nods. He takes her offered hand, and they begin to cross the field towards Lapis and Peridot’s home.

The problem is, so does Jasper.

Amethyst shoots her a scathing look, her grip on him intensifying.

“Hey!” she snaps. “Steven might’ve invited you to stay here with us, but don’t start getting any big-shot ideas. Unlike me, you’re just a quartz— not his confidant. So you can keep watch over ‘His Divine Radiance’ or whatever from afar, if that’s what you’re so desperate to do. Now scram,” she motions as if flicking her away, “and give us some damn privacy, for once.”

Her lip curling downwards in her silent outrage, Jasper looks to Steven for rescue. He only offers her a sheepish half-smile, however… mouthing the word ‘please’ as a minor salve to her brusque send-off. The (former??) Homeworld loyalist complies with an exasperated huff, and— grumbling a crude slurry of Gem obscenities Steven very much doesn’t need to be privy to under her breath— stalks off.

They find themselves a slice of blissful privacy behind the other side of the barn, shaded from the glaring rays of the sun. Steven leans back against the wall and sighs with fatigue. Amethyst slumps up next to him, criss crossing one leg over the other and allowing the faint, trumpeting calls of the gulls over the distant ocean gloss their way over their ample worries like a cooling salve.

“Dude… are you okay?” she asks after a brief moment’s silence.

A meager, half-hearted shrug. “I dunno, I guess—? I mean, I don’t think Jasper’s gonna try an’ fight us anymore, so that’s pretty good.”

“No. No, no, no,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “I’m not talking about all this, I’m talking about what happened back at the Kindergarten. Y’know, after we unfused—? Y-you… you really freaked Peridot and I out.”

He hugs his arms around himself almost protectively, turning away.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Why not?”

“I just… don’t.”

Frowning, she presses the matter again, reaching across the minuscule chasm between them. “But like, why—?”

“Because—?!” he bursts out, swinging around as he roughly shoves her hand away. “It’s embarrassing, okay? I totally lost us that fight! We were winning, a-and then I just—”

Steven’s voice cracks something awful at the end of his (well deserved!) emotional tirade, after which his head drops to the ground and he begins to softly cry.

Amethyst is quick to leap to his aid, tugging him to her chest (he doesn’t resist this time) and wrapping him up in the fiercest embrace she can muster. He spills his messy, broken sobs right onto the exposed surface of her gem. It tingles a bit… perhaps the latent healing power of his magic tears conferring her a little spit-shine after the intensity of that battle… but she doesn’t mind.

“Hey, hey,” she hums in as gentle a tone she can manage, carding her fingers through his soft curls as he works to regain his composure. “It’s fine. I promise you, it’s fine. Everything turned out okay in the end, yeah? ‘Sides—” she pulls away for a spell, flashing him a playful smirk as she gestures— “you put up with me being a complete dink to everyone like, this whole day. Doesn’t get more embarrassing than my whole deal, right? Eh?”

She nudges him with her elbow, waggling her eyebrows. He doesn’t smile in return, but he has stopped actively crying. For now, at least.

Kicking herself back against the wall of the barn again, she gives a long and labored sigh. “Listen. If you don’t wanna talk, I— I get it, okay? I won’t press you any harder. But like… you’ve got someone in your corner, y’know? You’ve always been a rock for me when I’ve needed one, and I wanna be that person for you too.”

He offers a halfhearted sniffle.

And then…

“I… don’t actually know what happened back there,” he admits, thumbing at one of his pockets. “It’s like, for a while we were fused just fine, but then I…”

Steven trails off momentarily, his expression screwing into a rather sour grimace.

She fights back the instinctual urge to interject with comforting words, with some utterance she knows would come off as merely a trite, empty platitude. As much as it pains her to see the kid so torn up about this, the truth of the matter is that some emotional sticking points need time to marinate before they can be effectively expressed.

In time, he takes a labored breath, empowering himself to continue. “So, I obviously never fell apart, not for real, but… when I was curled up on the ground, it felt like I was. It felt like—” he pauses to press his thumb and forefinger to his temple, not bothering to bite back his potent wince as they make contact— “like we were back at the fountain, and some broken part of me’s holding my gem—!”

Amethyst fails to conceal a quiet gasp, eyes widening in her anguished sympathy.

“And do you still feel like that?” she asks in as serious a tone she can muster.

“N-no… no, not anymore. I’m— I think it’s a little better, now. But my shield—!” he warbles with frustration. “I know I still can’t summon my shield right, see?”

Pressing his lips taut as he focuses, Steven clenches his fist and throws his arm out in front of him like he would whenever he’s falling into a defensive stance. His irises glow a vibrant pink. Faint shimmers of light echo in the space where his weapon should appear… and then a kaleidoscopic display of rapidly flickering shapes… and then back to those ephemeral shimmers. He doubles over with hands on knees at the outset of this attempt, his lungs bowing in and out as he scrounges for any ounce of internal harmony he can muster.

The light near about drains from her face. “Dude. We should really tell Pearl and Sapphire about this…”

“You can’t—!” he interjects, jolting back upright like a spring loaded trap. “Please, I— they’re already worried about so much, I don’t want to stress them out even more! Let me just—” he takes a deep, deep breath— “try to figure all this out on my own for once. Okay? I’ve already struggled with my powers once. I’m sure I can figure it out again.”

Her brow creases as she contemplates. “I mean… I still think you should tell them eventually, but. If that’s what you want, I won’t narc. Not unless it gets any worse.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, looking relieved.

“Yeah, don’t mention it, little man. Now let’s get heading back, ‘kay?” she says with a smile, nodding her head towards the far edge of the barn. “Tch… it’s not like we need your new guard dog freaking out, or anything.”

Steven nods in approval of this, still sniffling a little as he rubs away the lingering moisture in his eyes. She clasps her hand in his. Taking their own sweet time, the pair of them transition back to the open, sunny clearing where everyone else is waiting, their reluctant new ally (???) included.

“Are you two alright?” Pearl asks, an undercurrent of worry riding within her tone.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” she says, sparing a brief glance at the sullen kid huddled up next to her. “Just needed a little debrief, ‘s all.”

It’s at that exceedingly lucky moment that Ruby’s gemstone sees fit to chime with renewed life. Everyone snaps to attention, watching as the pulsing gem rises up out of Sapphire outstretched hands and into the humid summer air. Light stretches from her core like a flower in bloom, weaving itself into the glowing silhouette of her stout, squat torso and rounded limbs. This bodily outline rapidly shifts through a fair number of subtle conformations before settling into its brand new shape.

Ruby jolts in long delayed surprise as she solidifies in full. Slipping right back into gravity’s all-knowing grasp, she drops to the grass and wordlessly gawks at her captive audience. She seems very disoriented with her drastic change in scenery, and frankly, Amethyst can’t blame her.

Despite the uneasy nature of their parting a few days ago, Sapphire is quick to rush to her side.

“I-I…” she begins, voice strained as she moves the fringe of her bangs aside. “I like your new form.”

“Heh, thanks,” Ruby says, flushing a deep maroon. She takes this moment as a good excuse to extend her arms and admire her changed appearance as well.

She now boasts a set of golden bracers and a pin on her headband that’s shaped like a star. On the whole, the rest of her outfit isn’t much different from her normal fare, with the singular exception that her top now exposes her midriff. Amethyst agrees, it’s a fetching look for her.

Then, upon glancing up and noticing Jasper standing peacefully amongst their numbers— arms crossed as she scowls at the lot of them— Ruby squints in complete and utter confusion.

“Wait… what did I miss—?”

_

Ruby reformation:

[berriethewizard]

After only a little protest, Warriors allows Hyrule to look at the gash on his arm. It clipped right underneath his pauldron, and almost certainly would’ve taken out his sword arm if it wasn’t for his quick movements – but it doesn’t look too bad when Hyrule gets his layers off to take a look. 

“What’s the diagnosis, doc? Will I live to see another day?” Warriors dryly asks, to which Hyrule can only laugh at. The captain is much more experienced in medicine than him, formal military training versus Hyrule’s experience-based knowledge, but he appreciates the comment anyway. For quite a while, Hyrule has been observing him – trying to learn more from the clear confidence and knowledge the captain displays in and surrounding battle. There are many things he seems to be left behind on, in the ruins of his own world, and all he can do is listen and watch. While Warriors comes from a place far different from Hyrule’s world, the way he talks about the battlefields he’s seen reminds him of a lot of the landscape of his home. It’s nice to be trusted to be competent in something he does think he excels at by Warriors. Hyrule’s own continued survival has to mean something, right?

Hyrule would ask, perhaps, to have some more specialised training, if he knew at all how to approach the man. But every time he gets the opportunity, all he can see is the stern face of a soldier recounting the horrors of war, and he gets cold feet. His yearning for knowledge has not yet overcome the awkwardness. 

Hyrule just about finishes up healing the gash on Warriors’ arm when he hears Legend loudly comment, “Once again, Champion, your work with a bow astounds me. How do you do that?” Many visibly pick up their ears to listen in, not just his own – all eager to hear the explanation. 

“Honestly? This time it was just quickly switching between different arrow types. I didn’t do anything special.” This catches Hyrule’s attention the most. Different types of arrows aren’t really a thing where he’s from, and he’s been fascinated by many of the group’s use of them since he discovered them.

“No way!” Wind chimes in, “The way you used those bomb arrows, it was like you had a cannon in your hands!” Hyrule doesn’t know what a cannon is, either. He lets Warriors get himself dressed again, and joins the small gathering that has formed. 

Twilight scoffs. “Now I wouldn’t say that – cannons are huge, powerful machines – it’d be hard to replicate the force of something like that. Think of the power it takes to launch a person, Sailor. I don’t think any one bomb could be that powerful.”

“I’m sorry,” Legend looks at Twilight incredulously, “did you just imply you’ve been launched out of a cannon before?” Hyrule can’t help but copy Legend’s expression. What on earth is this machine, and why are they launching people out of it? 

“I have too, it’s not that uncommon.” Sky says. Wind nods his head aggressively next to him, while everyone else looks at the three of them in various states of creased brows and agape mouths. At least Hyrule isn’t the only one baffled by all this.

Warriors takes this time to say his own piece on the matter.

“They do exist, y'know. Hand cannons, I mean.”

Suddenly, all eyes are upon Warriors. He straps his pauldron back upon his shoulder, before turning to the group. 

“I’ve only seen one up close once. A trade ambassador from a country across the sea came to negotiate with the Queen, and with him came highly experimental new technology, including weaponry. About this big,” he mimes the size with his hands, which Hyrule approximates to be similar to the length of a shortsword, “composed of a metal barrel, small cannonballs named ‘bullets’, and an opening in the top to light gunpowder to launch. Shoots twice as hard and twice as far as an arrow, only needs one person to operate, and easy to move in active combat. They said that they’re hoping one day they’re advanced enough to pierce through armour.” 

“The Queen didn’t approve of these, right?” Twilight hesitates. “They sound… terrifying.”

“No she did not, thankfully. Let’s hope you never have to encounter one.” Warriors face darkens, like when he gets a bit too far into his war stories, and Hyrule decides if he wants to learn more about these cannons, he might go to Twilight or Sky instead. 

Hyrule doesn’t come from a very safe place. But he thinks Warriors’ era might be worse.

[solarissttee]

WHAT ONE MUST DO .ᐟ

SYNOPSIS : in celebration of the pulling out of the holy knight’s sword, the boar hat hosts a party; however, the festivities don’t last too long and the sins are sent packing and onto their next destination!

CONTAINS . . . 2.3k ; mild dialogue and plot change.

previous entry ; next entry

night descends briefly after the incident at the town’s square, which leaves the boar hat ready to be up and running for business. the tavern is especially packed with the amount of people choosing to treat themselves to a drink or two in order to loosen up.

“a toast to the owners of the boar hat!!”

“cheers!!”

while the atmosphere is cheery, not everyone is sharing that same sentiment. exhibit a: elizabeth.

“um… i’m... not sure if i’ll be any good. it’s my first time doing something like this,” the princess stammers, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the frills of her apron’s hem. “my heart is pounding…”

“ah, first time jitters, eh? don’t sweat it elizabeth, you’ll do fine! just make sure not to spill anything on the customers, ‘kay? these bunch can be a bit rowdy..” meliodas holds up an encouraging thumbs up, grinning assuringly to try and ease her mind.

“he’s right, princess. i’m sure these set of customers would be understanding since it’s your first day on the job. just try not to make a habit of fumbling things, okay?”

gulping nervously, the princess nods. sweat rips own her brow and she’s unsure whether it’s just her or if it’s gotten far too stuffy within the tavern. maybe she should open a window...

seriously, there isn’t any reason for you to be so hot and bothered,” hawk chimes in, snorting softly as he nudged his head against her calf. “you don’t even have to worry about gathering intel. just focus on your waitressing for today!”

“i see… i suppose that does make me feel less anxious. thank you hawk.” elizabeth flashes a small weary smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes but seems to hold gratitude within it as well.

“remember, the most important thing to do when serving customers is to be relaxed.”

“right! i’ll be relaxed!”

you smile softly at her enthusiasm before heading into the kitchen to get started on the meal prep and the likes.

you had high hopes in elizabeth that things would go smoothly on her end— however, it doesn’t take long for you three to come to the joint conclusion that elizabeth isn’t really good at being a server…

none of you can exactly blame her; it’s not like royals get taught how to waitress, right?

although you had tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, you can’t help but wince every time she either got an order wrong, spilled the order on the floor. it’s clear that her nerves are getting the best of her and she’s getting a little overwhelmed with this experience.

“mel, i think you should handle serving the customers for now. we’ll have to teach her how to waitress another time...” you suggest, watching in worry as elizabeth profusely apologized to a table after getting their drinks wrong. thankfully, they weren’t too bothered and merely laughed it off, telling her to be more careful.

“yeah, good call” meliodas nods in agreement, stepping away from the alcohol station. “yo, el! take five. i’ll handle things here for now.”

elizabeth’s shoulders drooped and a sullen expression made its way onto her face but she listens and steps back to let meliodas take over what she was doing. she wants to feel helpful and can’t shake this feeling that she hasn’t been doing much since she joined you guys. she almost got all three of you killed and didn’t even contribute in helping the people of vanya, so the least she could do was help around the tavern, right?

meliodas notices how her eyes turn overcast as he walks up and gives her hip a gentle pat. “you’re all good, el. we just think you should observe us for now; it was wrong of us to put you up to this with no prior training. you’ve done great so far so just take a breather, yeah?”

“alright…” she muttered and trudged away to a corner in the back of the room next to the door. coincidentally, mead and that older lady from the village were there too. she hadn’t even noticed.

“you really aren’t good at this waitressing thing, are you?” mead taunted, which caused elizabeth to lower her head in embarrassment.

“no… it’s my first day…” she whispered.

“mead!” the older lady next to him grabbed his ear, tugging at it. “don’t say such rude things! keep this up and i’ll send you to the forest of white dreams if you keep this up!”

her threat caused the much younger boy to pale and clam up, his posture straightening up immediately. “i—i’ll behave! i promise! just don’t send me there!”

at his reaction, elizabeth tilts her head curiously. “the forest of white dreams? what is that?”

“it’s this really scary forest that’s covered in such a thick fog that travellers and even holy knights steer clear of!” mead answers, shuddering at the thought of being left there.

“rumours have it that there’re monsters there, too! ugh, i’m getting the chills just thinking about it…”

“that does sound menacing… but it also provides an excellent hiding spot..” elizabeth muttered to herself.

the old lady hummed in response. “i suppose you’re right, dear. many criminals can escape and find refuge there because they know that not even a holy knight will want to go in there. but, it’s very easy to get lost.”

“i see..” the princess nods, tucking away that information in the back of her mind. ‘i think i might’ve just found a very crucial clue.. but i can’t be too sure just yet..’

APPROXIMATELY 7 MILES OF VANYA VILLAGE : FORT SOLGRES.

“m—moments ago, we received a report from our soldiers stationed in vanya. an unidentified girl pulled out your sword… and she was accompanied by an unidentified boy, your majesty..” a young knight stammers out as his eyes flit between the paper reports in his hands and his superior.

“i think it must’ve been some random fluke that let the girl—“

“a fluke let her remove a sword a holy knight thrust into the ground? a sword that i thrust in the ground?” gilthunder questions, rising from his desk abruptly. throwing him a sharp glare, the king’s consort begins walking up a set of stairs.

the young knight shrinks back from his icy gaze, sweat beading at his forehead. he feared that his slip up might have him hanging in the gallows. “n—no! that’s not what I meant at all!”

gilthunder ignores him and continues walking until he was at the tower’s window; the knights that stand guarding the area immediately straighten their backs.

“we hail the small sun of the kingdom!”

gilthunder merely waves off their greeting. “give me vanya’s range and heading. be exact.”

“it lies to the fort’s four o’clock, 7.3 miles away, your majesty.”

he nods his head in thought and eyes the spears the two hold in their hands. “would you two mind lending me your spears?”

“not at all, your majesty.”

“feel free to use them as you wish.”

taking the spears in his armoured hand gilthunder stalks towards the tower’s window.

“it should be about this angle...” he mutters to himself, holding one of the spears over his shoulder and infusing his magic into it. he takes a couple of steps back and quickly builds momentum before chucking the spear; he waits for a moment before the other one spear follows suit.

“that should do it.”

as you wipe down the kitchen counter, you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine; the muscles in your shoulders clamp up uncomfortably and a sinking feeling pools in your gut. you place down the rag in your hand, your eyes furrowing as you try to decipher what exactly is causing this reaction.

‘something’s heading our way…’

“oi, shouldn’t one of you go after her? elizabeth just walked out.” hawk huffed, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts.

“she did? I didn’t notice...” you trail off, removing your apron and rounding the counter. “i’ll go check up on her.”

pushing open the tavern’s door, you step into the chilly night and spot the princess seated not too far away on, her head tilted back as she stares up at the cloudy, starless sky.

“hey, are you feeling alright, elizabeth?”

“ah, lady y/n...” she turns her head back to look at you, an apologetic glint in her eyes. “i’m sorry. i know i’m still on shift, but the villagers were getting a bit rowdy… i guess i got overwhelmed…”

“oh.. you should go up and get some rest, then.” you place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

she shakes her head in disagreement, looking down at her lap with a bitter expression on her face. “i shouldn’t. this is no time to be wallowing in my own weakness and self pity.”

“hey, none of that. it’s alright to be overwhelmed in situations you’re not used to. you’ve been through a lot as it stands; a little rest will do you some good.”

“but so many people are suffering under the oppression of the holy knights. i can’t afford to dally around with everything at stake. if their princess can’t even handle a little waitressing, their chances look bleak.”

a sigh escapes your lips as you plop down and take seat next to her. “it seems that you’ve already forgotten the amount of danger and strain you put yourself through just to make sure your journey wasn’t for naught. in the end, you stumbled into the boar hat and found meliodas and i, didn’t you? all by yourself no less.”

her shoulders slump a little. “i suppose you’re right.. but still, it’s a bit pathetic of me to be doing all the whining when you and sir meliodas have been doing most of the heavy lifting…”

“hey, if you hadn’t wanted to help your people and taken this risk of looking for us, they’d have no chance at all.”

“i suppose you’re right…”

“it’s getting late, so go rest up, alright? mel and i will give you a proper demo tomorrow.”

she releases a small, tired yawn before getting up and brushing off her shorts. “alright, then. good night, lady y/n..”

“good night, elizabeth.” you wave her off as she opens the door to the tavern and steps inside.

suddenly, a spear speeds towards you at a fast pace. you brace yourself, placing a strain on your lower body as you grab onto it; the force that it carries pushes you off the hill the boar hat was perched on and down to the village. you break through numerous houses as you struggle to find purchase and slow down the spear’s rotation.

“fuck..!”

“lady y/n!!” elizabeth gasps, whipping back around and peering over the edge of the hill. to make matters worse, another spear was quickly showing face.

meliodas rushes out but is too late in grabbing it. “shit..!” he sprints toward the town, and the princess goes to follow him.

“don’t you dare! stay back, elizabeth!”

she looks between meliodas’ retreating figure and the chaos that was ensuing in the village below. “oh, stars… please guide us…”

the right sleeve of your shirt rips as whoever’s magical power that was infused in this thing singes it off. with great effort, you turn around and dig your feet into the ground in an attempt to stop getting thrown backwards.

your body skids to a stop after you put a little more weight on your lower body. after this you turn back around and angle your arm, taking a few steps forward to gather momentum before reeling your arm back and throwing the spear.

you sigh in relief, straightening up your posture. “god.. what the hell was that about..?”

“n/n!! watch out!”

you whip around to see meliodas sprinting at you with beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face. you look up and see another spear heading straight for you.

‘shit! i don’t have enough time to catch it—!’

you’re unsure of how to handle this situation and struggle to figure out what position to get into. but you didn’t need to think for that long before lucifer makes another appearance.

the giant serpent takes the spear into his teeth, the sharp fangs grinding against the metal in a cacophony similar to nails on a chalk board.

once the grinding stops, lucifer spits out the spear and licks his lips. “you needn’t stress about things like this, mistress. i’m here to protect you, am i not?”

you can’t help but smile. “thank you, lucifer. it seems that you’re always saving my ass.”

“that is my duty as your most humble servant,” the python bows his head before vanishing into thin air.

meliodas stops by your side, looking over you with worry. “are you alright?! your hand’s bleeding—“

you cut him off with a playful ruffling of his hair. “i’m fine, mel. but we can’t afford to say here any longer. we need to move.”

gilthunder is absentmindedly looking over the stack of papers on his desk, his head being propped up by his fist.

he barely had anytime to react when one of the spear’s he’d thrown crashed into the fort through the window, destroying the building in the process.

a screen of dust kicks up as holy knights yell over the debris trying to locate each other and the pink haired man.

gilthunder sits with his head slightly tilted to the left, a light cut on his right cheek that had a single bead of blood dripping down his porcelain skin. the spear is lodged into the headrest of his hair and although could’ve easily died from that, an eerily sinister grin etches itself onto his face.

“it’s just as i thought; you’re still alive, captains of the eight deadly sins... y/n. meliodas.”

“sir meliodas! lady y/n!” elizabeth calls out in worry as she runs towards you two with hawk following at her side.

“didn’t i tell you to stay inside?” meliodas grumbled.

“that’s besides the point! that spear belonged to the holy knight who attacked the village, right?” she asked, panting slightly as she tries to catch her breath.

“yeah. it was also our hint to leave the village as soon as possible,” you wipe your bloody hand against your shorts shirt.

“so soon? what if the village is attacked again after we leave?” she asks in concern, looking towards the villagers who were trying to make sense of the current destruction.

“they’ll be in way more danger if we remain as we are, elizabeth.”

her shoulders slump in defeat. “ugh..”

“it’d be nice if we had a place to hide,” hawk sighs, not liking the prospect of moving around so quickly.

elizabeth perks up now. “oh, right.. now that you mention it...”

you all turn to her, giving your undivided attention.

“earlier when i was taking a break, mead and that older woman said something about a really eerie forest that even the holy knights steer clear of. they called it the ‘forest of white dreams’.”

“really?”

“mhm! apparently the thick fog and unstable terrain of the ground is hard for people to navigate through. travellers avoid it altogether. he also said there were monsters..”

“that sounds perfect! it seems like you’re a natural at this intel gathering stuff, princess!” you clap your hands, a grin settling on your face.

“..are we going to skip over the part about monsters..?” hawk deadpans.

you guys ignore his concerns, already making plans to gather as many supplies as possible before daybreak.

“you guys suck.”

“well, if it makes you feel better, hawk, we’ll be going there for business purposes.”

“what the hell does that even mean?” the pig queries.

“in concerns to our journey of course. i know you’re slow, but c’mon pick up the pace.”

you and elizabeth facepalm as the other two begin to bicker again.

“enough! what lady y/n meant to imply is that one of sins probably lives there” elizabeth snaps, her patience with the two having worn thin.

meliodas and hawk shrink back, exchanging nervous glances. you have to admit, she is pretty intimidating when she wants to be. you almost forgot she managed to go months without getting caught in that rusty armour of hers and also outran fully trained holy knight apprentices an hour after getting over her fever. this girl isn’t weak at all and it seems you all need to keep that in mind more.

“alright, that’s enough of that. let’s go find out next sin!”

© solarissttee all rights reserved. do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works.

[rrezshifts]

hai haiiii theo hope ur doing well ૮ ◜ᵕ◝  ྀིა ₊˚⊹ ᰔ i wanted to ask ☕️ , 🍨 & 🫖 from the ask game for your rdr2 &ﾉor eah dr <3 !!

hi fawwwnn!! i’m doing good!! hope you are too!!! i’m only answering for my red dead reality sadly, because i haven’t developed my relationships in my eah reality too much yet. but thank you so much for considering that one and im sorry i couldn’t answer for it 😭💕

☕️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ hot chocolate : what does the winter season look like for you two? are you two the type to stay cozy inside and order takeout, or would you rather go for a walk in the snow? do you celebrate any holidays, birthdays, or anniversaries together during winter? . . . as we were first getting to know each other we were traveling down california. california luckily doesn’t snow on the path we were going down, but it still gets dreadfully cold. the winter months were okay for me, i’ve had experience in this weather and knew how to survive and thrive in it. but the gang, because of their experience with winter ultimately meaning snow, and with the lack of it, they assumed the weather was warm enough to not need as many layers. wrong! we ended up spending time in a town scrounging up enough money to afford them more layers. but before we could, the nights were rough for them. so we had to rent out cheap rooms which kept us in that town longer. and to keep the rooms cheap we had to share not just rooms but beds. i was in a bed with charles. and he’s so large you’d think he had enough body heat to keep him warm, but i would wake up in the middle of the night to him clinging to me, shivering and cold. and we had tried to ask the hostel for extra blankets when we first arrived but they said it would “cost more”. so one day while everyone was out i dipped into my own funds to buy an extra blanket for me and charles’ bed. even before charles and i got romantically involved, and especially after, we continued to share beds in hostels. and instead of only ending up cuddled up by the morning we started the nights off that way. if our roommates had questions, they didn’t ask. except when we’d room with yoloxochitl, she always had something to say because i’d have something to giggle about and mention to her!

🍨 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ affogato : how does your s/o show love? does their love language align with one of the traditional 5 types, or is it something unique to them? do they have a special way of making you feel appreciated? . . . charles’ love languages are primarily gift giving, acts of service, and quality time. he’s not too much of a talker, he doesn’t like to get into anyone personal space too much either, not if he can help it. but he loves carving wood and giving them as gifts or spending some of his money on small things he’d think i’d like. he also just likes to sit with me and listen to me talk to him, sometimes chiming in. he likes to walk on beaches with me and go on hikes, and hunt with me. charles makes me feel appreciated when he understands and acknowledges my love languages. so like he rarely used to give words of affirmation, but now he will with me, just because he wants to. or he’ll grab and hug me as he kisses my cheek, come up behind and squeeze me in a hug, even though he rarely touches people. when i realized that he loved me enough to want to do these things he wouldn’t want to do with other people, and he never stopped doing those things with me, i melted.

🫖 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ chamomile tea : how does your s/o help soothe or ground you when you're feeling overwhelmed, stressed, or anxious? if you're having a bad day, what do they do to help? . . . charles is very wise, he knows exactly what to say and he is always on point. when i’m anxious in any way he will have the perfect words for me, helping tremendously. but he also just sits with me and is with me when i’m not feeling well. and merely having him by my side, with his large hands rubbing my back or brushing his fingers through my hair. it just makes every weight drift of my shoulders and i lean into him like he’s home. when i’m having a bad day he offers to take us somewhere, a beach, hunting, into town, or just a simple horse ride. he offers up his time in order for me to get distracted from the bad that was that day and make it better. he’s very empathetic and understanding. and he cares about me so much.

© rrezshifts last updated. 02/12/2025

[softxsuki]

god i hope i’m not late i was about to sleep but then i remembered your requests and i had to write one!!! sorry for the late request!!!

So my pronouns are she/her. The three fandoms i wouldn’t mind being paired up would be BTS, BNHA, and Obey Me! I would love to be paired up with male characters in a romantic setting.

I am an INFP and my zodiac sign is a Pisces!

I value mostly trust and friendship. I want to be able to joke around and have my lover be my best friend! We need to radiate the same energy and hopefully they will give back the same or even more in which I will gladly reciprocate back. But they also need to be calm and collected because I have trouble doing that. Acts of service and being told I do well is certainly my love language. I prefer taller people but everyone is taller than me lol since i’m only 5’2. I also don’t mind a man in glasses.

Generally when i meet people i am shy and nervous. Don’t really know how to break the ice. With friends, I laugh loudly and love to listen rather than talk about my own life. I love reading, drawing, and writing but spend most of my time immersed in video games. My taste in music I believe is trash because I listen to the same damn songs over and over again and most likely never get tired of them. I also take lots of naps because i tire easily and it’s been difficult because of my chronic illness, lupus. Every day is different and honestly the last month or so I haven’t been feeling the greatest…But I am doing better!

Lastly the type of scenario I would like would be possibly a “first interaction??” or how they would take care of me? I am lover of just fluff and the start of relationships where everything just feels right and new. I would to explore something like that. Thank you so much for doing this!!

1000 Follower Event Matchup #34

This event is CLOSED. The event masterlist is here.

Note: Hope you enjoy, sorry it's late!

***pls note that I no longer accept requests for bts <3 i love my boys but I don't feel comfortable writing fanfics for them anymore :)

 I match you with: KIRISHIMA, JUNGKOOK, and DIAVOLO

Runner ups: Kaminari, Jin, Mammon

Kirishima:

Kirishima makes the best lover but also friend for you

It’s like dating your best friend, with the perks of being able to kiss and stuff

He loves joking around with you and playing video games with you and the rest of your friends

Acts of service are his thing–he’s always doing little things for you that he knows you’d like, for instance, asking Bakugou to teach him to cook something so he can make a meal for you, buying you flowers, opening the door for you, lending you his jackets. IT'S THE SMALL THINGS THAT COUNT

He’s an extrovert so he does talk a lot and loves that you listen to him, though he wants to hear from you as well, so he’d ask you questions to help get some answers from you

How does he take care of you?

Kirishima is always watching out for you, making sure you’re doing okay

He’s the type of guy who has a conversation with someone, but is also paying attention to you at the same time

Let’s say you’re both out for dinner with your friends and you drop your fork so you bend down to pick it up

He places his hand along the edge of the table as you bend down, while absorbed in a conversation with Kaminiari, making sure you don’t hit your head on the table when you come back up–he’s always watching you (not in a creepy way lol)

He’s very subtle but exact with his caring for you, he won’t be over the top, but at the end of the day, you’ll never feel insecure that he doesn’t care for you

Jungkook:

Jungkook would just be such a fun boyfriend for you

He’s quirky and lots of fun, going out of his comfort zone to do the most daring things, and he’s definitely inviting you along for it all

I just picture you having the time of your life with him

He’s very daring and adventurous, but he’s also a cutie that believes in love at first sight by hearing a bell chime and I think that is so adorable :( 

He’s so pure hearted and kind, thinking of you all the time through everything he does 

Jungkook always compliments you on how well you’re doing something, he even randomly says it so you know that you’re doing well and making someone proud, so you should be happy with yourself as well

Jungkook loves to draw with you, you both have fun trying to draw each other or just spending quality time together drawing and playing video games together

There’s never a dull moment with him

How does he take care of you?

Jungkook is very protective over you, so he naturally takes very good care of you

Any ounce of discomfort on your face and he jumps in immediately to take care of the issue (if he can)

He knows you struggles with lupus and does whatever he can to support you, yet doesn’t want you to miss out on the fun on days where it may be harder for you, so he has no problem just being there for you at home, enjoying each others company

Truly perfect, I’m telling you

Diavolo:

Diavolo! It was a close match between Dia and Mammon for me

But I went with Diavolo, because as fun and laid back as he may be, he also knows when to be serious and mature, something Mammon struggles with

Diavolo loves having fun with you; he’s always trying to escape from his mountain of paperwork, sneaking past Barbatos so he can spend some time with you in a place that isn’t his office lol

You both sneak off into town together to get some food

He even likes bringing you to the human world where you can introduce him to some of your favorite things to do and favorite foods to eat

Leviathan got him into games so he likes to practice his skills with you

His go-to is quiet moments with you in his office (since Barbatos always drags him there and he drags you with him lol) so while he does his paperwork, you find a quiet corner in his office (that he has supplied with comfortable pillows and blankets) so you can read

How does he take care of you?

As Future King of the Devildom, he uses his power and connection to get the best doctor for you when your lupus gets particularly bad

He’d go as far as to call help from the human world if the doctors in the Devildom can’t help you

Though he’s incredibly busy as President of the RAD student council and Future King of the Devildom, he’s never too busy for you, and goes out of his way to ensure he can always care for you and be there for you when you need it

He walks you back home (whether you live in his castle or with the brothers is up to you) since he knows how dangerous it can be for you to walk alone since not everyone there agreed with your presence in the Devildom (not that anyone would be dumb enough to mess with the future leader’s woman lol)

But yeah :) I think he’s a great match for you!

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 9/6/2023

[wandawiccan60]

I’m Sorry

An Alfie Solomons X Freya(FemOC)One-Shot

A/N: Hello everyone I know I have ghosted for a while just school and other things have happened lately good and bad really. But enough said but here is a lovely lovely One-Shot that I had the honor with working with my bestie and lovely @i-love-th-characters1. We thought of this story out of nowhere and we decided to make Alfie be such a brute because we thought that Alfie never really apologizes so we decided to make this tale of him and we are very proud to share this short and yet long one shot of the lovely King of Camden Town and his beautiful Scandinavian. Gypsy Freya(our very own OC). Romance, Friendship, etc is presented before your eyes and I hope you all enjoy this as much as me and I-love had such a fun and brainstorming time to bring this to life. Without further ado please as always enjoy, Reblog, Comment, and thank you all for being around I appreciate it every single one of you.

Summary: ”I'm Sorry." 

Two words that she never thought she would hear from the man in front of her. If she's honest, she did look at him like he had 3 heads. Silence took over as they both stared at each other, wondering who would break it as his apology lingered between them.

WARNING 18+: Fem is a Virgin, Lit SMUT, Cussing, Mentions of Alcohol, & Lots Fluff

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The old grandfather clock chimed throughout the small hallway indicating that it was past 10 o'clock at night. Freya was peacefully sitting on the red velvet couch facing the small chimney fireplace. While in her hands she continued to read a book that she got from one of the bookshelves. Cyril was lying next to her feet on the floor while the smooth breeze of the ocean outside the window came inside the lit-up living room. Freya let out a low sigh placing the closed book on top of her lap feeling uneasy about Alfie not arriving home yet. 

“Where could he be, it’s getting late?” she said out loud resting her back against the head of the couch hearing the crackling sound of the fireplace continuing to burn. 

Feeling like time was going slow for Freya, Sophia, their young maid, appeared inside the living room making Cyril lift his head up from his nap. 

“Would you like me to get you anything else for tonight Mrs. Solomons?” the young girl asked while picking up the silver tray from the small brown table in front of Freya.

“No, I’m quite alright now, Sophia thank you. It's best you head home. I'm still waiting for Alfie to arrive from his workplace. Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of the rest of the house. You have done a lot today which I appreciate very much and so does Alfie but enough said. Oh, and yes, your payment for this week's salary I’ll get that right away for you my dear. I’ll be right back,” Freya said, walking her way out of the living room to head to Alfie’s office, while Sophia put away the tea tray in the kitchen area.

A few minutes later Freya returned with the young woman’s payment in her hands, she saw Sophia giving cuddles and scratches to the big Bullmastiff. She smiled at the site while the big dog lay on his back enjoying the amount of attention he was getting from the young housemaid. 

“Silly Cyril you, now come on then off to bed with you. Go on shoo, shoo,” Freya clapped commanding the big brown mutt to go away but was not listening. 

“Hehe, seems he doesn't want to go to bed just yet, but I must go now Cyril I’ll see you tomorrow you sweet dog,” Sophia cooed raising herself on her feet smoothing out her white shirt dress.

“Here you go love,” Freya said handing over the young woman’s money as she continued speaking, “We’ll see you at the same hour in the morning as always, you walk safely back home now. Goodnight Sophia.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Solomons, and I’ll be here at 7 in the morning sharp like I always do. And it is a pleasure to serve you and Mr. Solomon-.”

The front door suddenly burst open making both women jump back in fright, noticing Alfie angrily mumbling some words under his breath. Both Sophia and Freya couldn't quite catch what he was saying, as he shut the door with force. 

“Fuckin’ hell can tonight be something more difficult than the other nights,” Alfie loudly said walking his way towards his office room not noticing the girl's presence who have been seeing his small tantrum all this time.

“Umm, well then that means he didn’t have a good day at work I suppose. I apologize for my husband's behavior Sophia, he really isn't like this every night believe me. Anyways again goodnight dear, until the morning,” said Freya, opening the door for Sophia feeling embarrassed on the inside from Alfie’s actions.

After Sophia left the house, Freya with a small temper growing from inside, quickly walked her way toward her husband's private office. Cyril followed right behind as she opened the door with ferocity, seeing his back facing her way.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Alfie? Have you gone out of your mind coming back home with that temperament?” Freya questioned, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms in front of her chest glaring her eyes directed at him.

“So fuckin’ what, eh? I can act whatever way I want, yea, you won’ understand the amount of shit I went through today,” he said, forwarding himself on his knuckles on top of his desk, letting out a big frustrated sigh.

Freya let out a slow sigh trying her best to steady her breathing, wanting to try and communicate with her loving husband. She felt her body relax until she talked to Alfie once again.

“Alfie, talk to me, you know you can always tell me what is wrong,” Freya said, placing a gentle hand on top of his left shoulder but he shoved her hand away from him startling her with fright.

“Why would you fuckin’ care about what happened to me at the job today, it's business that you won’t understand. And now you here telling me ‘what is wrong,’ like if talkin’ will make me feel better,” he said giving a menacing look at his wife, Freya felt chills forming through her body appalled by how Alfie was raising his voice at her.

“Are you listening to yourself, Alfie?” Freya now had her voice raised while her hands turned into tight fists as she continued on speaking, “What is the matter with you, how dare you're raising your voice at me when it isn’t my fault you had a terrible day at work. And you're standing here taking your anger out on me. Who by the way is your wife? Who wants to try and understand what the hell caused you to act like this.”

“Do me a favor, my dear yea? Why don’ you just leave me alone and shut your goddamn mouth and instead you can fuck off from my site yea! You're makin’ my damn head hurt more just by looking at your face,” he said breathing heavily in and out from his nostrils, Freya stayed silent feeling as though a sharp knife stabbed through her heart.

Not wanting to stay any longer Freya angrily walked out of Alfie’s private office, shutting the brown door with a loud bang. She leaned her back against the wooden door placing her hands over her eyes and letting out a small quiet whimper. She felt tears forming through her dark hazel eyes, inhaling a long breath of air as she walked her way through the small hallway. She grabbed a long black scarf from the coat hanger and wrapped the material around her shoulders. Freya made her way out of her house without a care in the world, as some thunder was heard in the far distance. Indicating that a storm was coming in but that didn’t stop her from walking her way to who knows where. Back inside the house, Alfie took out a bottle of whiskey from a side drawer of his desk. Before opening the cap, he stared at the bottle for a moment until he saw Freya’s face.

Realizing what he did and said to her was incredibly wrong and inside his soul, he was regretting it ever so much. Grabbing the whiskey bottle with his right hand he frustratingly threw it across the room, making a big splatter spot on the wall. Along with the pieces of glass shattered throughout the floor as he let himself fall on top of his armchair. Tilting his head back looking up at nothing else but the ceiling, exhaling a long sigh while he had his eyes closed. 

What the fuck did I just do… I’m such a fuckin’ idiot…

Alfie walked his way out of his office room, walking through the hallway towards the stairs that led up to the second floor. Cyril walked alongside him making their way up wanting to apologize to her for acting such a dick towards her knowing that his anger got the best of him. Alfie reached the bedroom door and before going inside he softly knocked on it. 

“Freya… sweetheart, I’m… forgive me for screaming at you. I… I don’t know what came over me,” Alfie said, letting out a disappointed sigh and placing his right hand on the doorknob making his way slowly inside the room.

But to his shock, she was nowhere to be found inside but only their empty bed and a small table lamp on the other side of the room. Alfie panicked feeling his heart racing out of control, as he walked his way back down the first floor. 

“Freya. Freya, where are you?” he called out looking from one room to the other, not finding any trace of her whereabouts.

Alfie started to become more agitated after failing to find her in every part of the house thinking about where she could be or run off to. Alfie caressed his fingers through his short brown locks, letting out another irritated sigh. Wondering where Freya could have gone too and somewhere he and she would know to go when they wanted to clear their heads out. That's when it suddenly hit him where exactly Freya could have gone to.

The old stone bridge… she must have gone there…

Alfie didn't wait another minute to pass by and made his way out of the house, leaving Cyril all alone in the house. Outside the dark chilly night, it started pouring small drops of rain as Alfie walked his way towards the path that leads to the old bridge. Where they met for the first time when they were in their adolescent years. He only hoped and prayed that Freya made it there safely the rain however only continued to come down heavily.

This is all my fault…my own damn fucking guilt…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

14 Years Ago: Somewhere In Camden Town

"Follow the path, Cyril. You know better." A young Alfie told his then puppy. 

The pup happily sniffed and walked along the path again, a path he and Alfie took for their afternoon walks for a few months now. It was all very familiar to both boys. Today was no different, or at least, it wasn't supposed to be. Yet, their ears picked up on something. 

"Stop." Alfie whispered to his pup who stayed in place in front of him, waiting for his owner to be closer. 

Looking around, Alfie couldn't place where the sudden singing was coming from. Not that he minded the joyous and raucous tune, but the path is known to be private, which is why he began walking Cyril here two months ago. Straining his sight again, he finally saw a figure under the old stone bridge. 

A young woman, to be exact. She was dancing while singing. Her swaying movements and the unfamiliar tune was like a siren's song to the young man and his puppy. Neither even felt themselves starting to walk in her direction. Their feet simply had minds of their own. Slowly, they approached the young woman who hadn't seen or heard them yet. She was too busy dancing her heart out, the jingling of her many necklaces clinking against each other adding a different beat to the, what Alfie could tell was a, foreign song. He was in a trance as he watched her body move. Nothing provocative, nothing grand. She just seemed so free. Cyril looked up at his owner, wondering why he hadn't said anything yet if he liked seeing the girl dance so much. So, being the curious puppy he was, he happily barked. 

The echoing noise immediately had the young woman stopping her movements and her song as she sharply inhaled, clearly startled as she looked towards the direction in which the bark came from. 

"No, no, shh." Alfie told his dog as he tried to subdue the embarrassment he began to feel since he had gotten caught staring.

Instead of being able to control his puppy, Cyril barked again, and again, and again. His tail was wagging and his ears stood up halfway as he wondered why the girl wasn't singing or dancing anymore as she kept looking at them. Alfie wasn't sure what to do as he looked up from his dog. His eyes met the young woman's, and he could tell that she was either seconds from running away or she was too scared to move and was hoping they'd leave first. He knew one thing was for certain; neither parties moved from their spots as they simply stared at each other. 

He could tell she wasn't from here. He had never seen her in the town, much less under the old bridge that he has been passing under daily for two months. He softly cleared his throat as he gave her a tiny nod, unsure of what to do as she kept looking at them. He wasn't sure if she'd do them both harm, though she didn't seem to be a bad person. Cyril, on the other hand, was still curious about this girl who seemed so free a moment ago and was now hesitant to leave the safety of the shadows of the bridge. 

So, Cyril took matters into his own paws and sniffed the trail as he wandered over to where she was standing. He was surprised when Alfie didn't bother stopping him. Looking up at the girl who slowly looked down at him, Cyril barked, wagging his tail to let her know he was friendly. He sensed that she was being cautious, and the pup didn't blame her. He and his owner were strangers to her after all. He sat in place and softly whined, giving her the best puppy eyes that he could muster. Alfie took cautious steps towards the two, stopping just under the beginning of the bridge. 

He watched her necklaces clink together as she slowly moved to kneel down in front of the puppy. Cyril immediately climbed into her lap, causing the young woman to seem taken back by the gentle action. The pup nudged one of her hands with his small nose, letting her know it was alright to pet him. Carefully, she very lightly patted his back, now curious about the tiny animal in her lap who seemed happy to see her. So she patted him again, and again, and again. Each time, she grew less afraid, less cautious, and soon, Alfie felt himself smiling as he watched her scratch Cyril on his belly which caused one of the pup's back legs to scratch the air. 

He found her smile breathtaking, even if it was directed at his dog and not him. 

"I…um, we're sorry for interrupting you." He said, noticing how her eyes were taking all of him in. 

It made him feel too warm for his own comfort, but some tiny part of him deep down enjoyed the attention from this beautiful young woman. 

She only gave him another smile, seeming confused as to what he was saying. Deciding to try and help the situation, Alfie carefully kneeled down in front of her and his pup, hoping she could tell that they're both friendly and meant her no harm. 

"Cyril." He told her, pointing at the puppy. 

She tilted her head slightly to the right, still seeming confused. 

"Cy-ril." Alfie repeated, only slower this time so she could grasp the name. 

She looked at the dog, slowly nodding. Though she didn't say anything, Alfie knew she understood. Suddenly, she was pointing at him, head tilting to the right again. 

"I'm Alfie." He said, placing one of his hands on his chest. 

Her eyebrows raised in confusion. 

"Al-fie. Al-fie." He slowly repeated, being patient with her. 

She gave him a slow nod, understanding that he was introducing himself. 

"Alfie Solomons. I live here, in Camden. Do…Do you live here?" He asked, only to receive no answer.

They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Freya," She softly spoke, copying him and placing one of her hands on her chest, 

"Fre-ya." She said with a smile. 

"Freya." He repeated the name, liking how it rolled off his tongue. 

She happily nodded after he had said it. He stretched out his right hand towards her, watching as she looked at it with curiosity. 

"You give me your left hand, and we shake 'em together. That's how you greet someone who you just met." He explained.

Freya still didn't understand, so he gently took her left hand in his right one. Very slowly, he shook hands with her, noticing that she seemed to be paying close attention. 

"It's nice to meet you." He said, adding a slight smile for good measure. 

He tried to let go of her hand, but she didn't want to let him go. She had never been so patiently dealt with by someone foreign to her. Alfie felt himself blushing as they just awkwardly kept holding hands, wondering why she would choose to keep holding on to him. 

"Do you live here?" He asked her again, only to earn another head tilt. 

"Um," 

His mind was racing as he thought of ways to gesture at a house or anything that resembled a home. Suddenly, an idea hit him as he spotted a small twig beside his leg. She let go of his hand as his other began picking up the twig. He did the best that he could to draw an outline of a house between them on the sand beneath their legs. 

"Home?" He asked, motioning to his simple drawing. 

All Freya did was curiously look at him before something visibly clicked within her. She pointed to the twig, and Alfie quickly gave it to her. He was so caught up in looking her over that he hadn't realized what she was doing. That is, until a voice was heard in the far distance. 

"Freya!" A man's voice shouted.

Alfie watched as she happily turned around, looking towards where the voice came from. Turning again to face her new friend, she pointed behind her. 

"Tata." She said with a smile. 

Now it was Alfie's turn to give her a look of confusion, watching as she handed a snoozing Cyril to him before she carefully rose to her feet. He quickly followed, careful to not wake his puppy. 

"Freya!" The man's voice shouted again, sounding slightly closer this time. 

"Tata." The young woman repeated to Alfie who gave her a slow nod. 

Then it clicked. 

'Must be her father.' He thought as she gave him another smile. 

"Home." She softly added as she tried her best to copy how he had pronounced the singular word, once again pointing in the same direction she had a moment ago. 

"Oh, right, yeah. I best be headin' back myself. 

"Home?" She asked with a curious expression, her words laced with happiness. 

"Yes. My home is that way." He answered with a slight smile, pointing behind him, his thumb gesturing towards the path he and Cyril took.

"Jutro." She said with a look of hope. 

Once again, he was confused. 

"Jutro?" She asked instead, hoping it would make a difference. 

"I…I don't understand." He softly explained, taking a step closer to her.

"Jutro…jutro." She slowly repeated, making a gesture with her hands as she also took a step closer towards him.

Alfie paid close attention, trying to grasp what she meant as he closely watched her hands. Her left hand stayed still as her right one moved back to the front over her left. 

"Jutro?" She asked in a whisper. 

Then it hit him. 

"Tomorrow!" He blurted out, finally understanding. 

"Jutro!" She happily hummed out, grateful that he knew what she meant. 

"I'll come back tomorrow. Me and Cyril," He pointed to himself and his pup, 

"Will meet you," He pointed at her,

"Here." He promised as he pointed between them.

They were both happy that they had reached an agreement, just in time, as her father called out a third time, the voice closer now. She reached towards Cyril, giving his head a loving pat, being careful to not wake him. With a final look to Alfie, Freya slowly waved at him, giving him such a sweet smile before she hurried out from under the old stone bridge. He watched as she soon disappeared into the fog that was covering the far distance of Camden. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Some Time Later

Freya, Alfie, and Cyril were inseparable. Wherever one was, so were the other two. The three spent much time each day under the stone bridge. It was mostly because Freya was scared to leave its safety. She had never dared go past the bridge, and Alfie never forced her. Until one month later when one particular morning Cyril had stepped on a small thorn and Alfie wasn't sure what was wrong with his pup. 

"Mate, you're limping." He said in concern as Cyril sat in place. 

Squatting down, Alfie carefully looked over his whimpering pup, trying to figure out what the source behind the discomfort was. 

"Alfie!" Freya happily called out to him from under the bridge. 

Looking towards her, he waved at her since she was waving at him. 

"I'll be just a second, alright? Something is wrong with Cyril." He called out to her as worry towards his dog's health began creeping into his head. 

Freya quietly watched as Alfie sat on the floor and Cyril didn't climb in his lap. In her eyes, it was all too strange that the puppy would rather sit on the floor than in his owner's lap because Cyril loves being in her and Alfie's laps. 

She could hear Alfie talking to Cyril, but all he would get in return were whines and whimpers of discomfort. Worry rose within her, and it was so fast in that moment that she hadn't realized her feet had minds of their own. They quickly walked her out from under the bridge and towards her friends. She sat beside Alfie, who glanced over at her then back to his dog, but then he quickly fully looked over at her. 

"Cyril." She said in worry with a small frown. 

Carefully, she picked him up, doing some inspecting of her own to see if Alfie possibly missed something when he had done the same just a second ago. 

"Freya, you're-" 

"Found it." She announced as she very gently laid the dog on her lap. 

She spotted a very small thorn wedged between the pads of his left back paw. 

"A thorn?" He asked her as she held it up for him to see. 

"Yes." She answered before flicking it away from them. 

"Better, Cyril?" She asked the pup as she set him on all fours. 

He happily wagged his tail before barking, obviously in a much better mood. 

"Freya," 

She turned to look at Alfie who wore a surprised expression on his face. 

"Yes?" She asks curiously. 

"You're out from under the bridge." He told her gently. 

She looked behind them, finding he was correct. She had left the safety of the bridge. Yet it didn't feel different now that she was out from under there. She was with Alfie and Cyril, which made everything seem normal. 

"Is good?" She hesitantly asked him. 

He gently smiled at her, enjoying that she had learned the English language so quickly with his help.

"Do you feel good about being here in the open?" He asked her. 

After giving the question some thought, she nodded, giving him a smile in return. 

"Then this means I can show ya the shops in the town." He excitedly said, and the thought of seeing all the different stores and products they have to offer caused her to smile again. 

That day, while they were in town, he asked her if she would allow him to be her boyfriend. She looked at him in slight shock as she thought of what he had just asked.

"If you don't want to be with me, I understand. It's just…I fancy you so much, Freya. You understand me like no one else does. You're beautiful and kind. Your nature is to heal and comfort. Mine is to destroy and create chaos. But none of that happens when I'm with you." 

"Yes." She answered once his words ceased. 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, big smiles began to spread across their lips before she happily hugged him. He hugged her back, holding her tightly as she excitedly giggled into his chest. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1914: World War I

Two months passed before their lives drastically changed. A war had begun, and by what Alfie told Freya, any and all help was needed. 

"They sent me this." He told her, holding up a folded paper. 

"What is it?" She hesitantly asked. 

He took a good long look at her. He didn't want to tell her. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to see the sadness he knew would be on her face. He didn't want to tell her that he might die far away from home. Yet he forced himself to answer her. 

"It's a letter. I've been…" 

She stepped closer to him, seeing the worry in his eyes,

"I've been drafted. They need me to go fight. I leave in two weeks." 

Silence lingered between them as they looked at each other.

"You can't leave." She whispered as a small frown took over her lips. 

"I have to. They'll punish me if I don't." He softly explained. 

"But…But what if you don't return?" She asked him.

Tears began to form in her eyes, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. 

"I will. I will return. That much I promise you." 

Those two weeks were spent with each other. The young couple felt that they couldn't get enough time together as the day they both dreaded quickly approached. When that morning came, the two closely stayed by each other's sides as they waited for the designated train to pull into the station. 

Freya couldn't stop thinking about how to help Alfie feel less nervous. He was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Then it dawned on her.

She moved to take off one of the many necklaces that hung around her neck. Making sure she had the one she wanted, she moved to stand in front of her boyfriend. He looked at her with curious eyes, wondering what she was doing. He had his answer when she held the necklace towards him. Understanding that she was trying to help, he slightly dipped his head down and felt her carefully slip it over his head. As it rested against his chest, he looked down at it, finding a small coin-sized plate hanging from the chain. The name of his girlfriend was engraved in a fancy font on the face of it. 

She had opened her mouth to speak, but the train was coming into the station, blaring its horn in the process. The other men, young and older and who had also received a letter that requested their help in the war, began saying goodbye to their significant others or their families. Slowly, Freya's eyes met Alfie's. 

"I promise to come back to you. No matter how far away I am, you'll be here in my heart. That's why you gave me this, right?" He asked as he pointed to the necklace. 

"Yes." She answered in a whisper. 

The train horn blared again, and even though the recruited men didn't want to, they all began lining up beside the train car to board it. Mothers and wives were crying while waving their sons and husbands off. Looking down at Freya, Alfie tightly embraced her. It was warm and loving, and neither wanted to let go. Reluctantly, he was the first to pull away after a solid minute. 

"Don't cry, my love." He whispered as he gently wiped away her tears. 

She placed her hands over his own, wanting to feel them in hers one last time until who knew how long. He leaned down, placing his mouth over hers, and she followed along by closing the space between them. The kiss was beautiful; familiar, and slow as they tried to be physically connected for as long as they could. When they couldn't breathe anymore, they pulled away, and after they caught their breaths, she sadly watched as he picked up his bags. 

"Can I ask you for a favor?" He spoke softly. 

"Anything." She answered quickly. 

"Will you please look after Cyril and collect my mail while I'm gone? I don't get much, if any, but I'll write to you every chance I get." He explained. 

She gave him a nod as it sank in for both of them that they were not dreaming and would be apart with neither knowing for how long. With an apologetic expression towards her, he began to also join the long line of recruited men. 

He was only 15 feet away from her, yet she was already missing his touch. So, she did what any love stricken girlfriend would do. 

"Alfie!" She called out. 

He was about to fill an empty spot in the line when he quickly turned around. He was met by Freya rushing towards him, and just before he could drop his bags, her arms were around his neck. The force that came with her was so great that he almost lost his balance, but the young men on his right and left sides steadied him. They gave him knowing smiles as they took his bags and held them for him. His arms were wrapping themselves around her waist once his hands were free. 

When she looked up at him, they kissed again, the action done in haste as the train horn was heard again. When they pulled away, Alfie rested his forehead against hers. 

"I love you." He told her with such seriousness that she couldn't help but smile. 

"I love you, too." She responded, and he slowly began to let go of her just like she did to him. The warmth they both felt from the embrace quickly turned cold as the two young men handed Alfie his bags again. Freya smiled sadly at him, earning the same smile from him.

A woman gently pulled her away from the line as it shortened, telling her that it was safer to wait by the waiting area than be too close to the tracks. Freya learned that the woman was a mother and had just said goodbye to her three sons. They both stood together, watching in fear and sadness as the train began to slowly take off. Alfie waved at her, just like the woman's sons did. The four had gotten seats right beside some windows. Freya waved back at him, trying her best to not cry so Alfie wouldn't remember her like that.

From that day, exactly one week passed until she heard from him. She was sitting in the living room of his home. Cyril was lying beside her as they both occupied the longest sofa. As she went through the mail to see if he had written to her, her heart raced when she saw her name on one envelope. She dropped the other few envelopes to the floor and got to opening hers right away. Her eyes were met by her boyfriend's handwriting, and they didn't hesitate to begin reading. 

'Freya, 

I am missing you. I know it has just been a couple of days, but I cannot wait to see you again. It is hard to be away from you for this war against France. I know that what I am doing is for the good of people, but nothing truly feels good without you. I am hoping to see you again soon. But, until then, know that I love you dearly and that I left my heart with you, my darling. 

I love you, 

-Alfie 

Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized that only a week had passed. How long would it be until they saw each other again? Would he make it back? Would this war turn him into someone she wouldn't recognize when…if…he returned? Looking at Cyril, who was closely watching her, Freya continued to softly cry. The dog became concerned, so he moved his head to be in her lap. As soon as she felt Cyril's weight, she hugged him, crying into his fur as he lowly whined. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Freya. Freya, can you hear me love?” Alfie called out walking through the big green forest both his shoulders and hair drenched in rain.

He has been calling out for his wife for an hour or so hoping that she didn’t go far from where they lived. Beneath his shoes the pathway was muddy in some spots trying his best to not slip. Some paces later Alfie saw a black smokey cloud in the distance. At first he thought it would be Freya’s family that were set at camp but as he made his way towards the cloud. It turned out to be the old stone bridge where he and Freya would mostly spend time together and where they first met all those years ago. It’s like he could remember it like it was yesterday.

How time flies so fast…

Seeing the smoke coming from underneath he carefully made his way down a steep path. Once making it down Alfie embraced the site of the old bridge placing a hand against its few stones. Remembering the old days of both him and Freya’s life when they would meet each other secretly. Until Freya’s father found out about their meetups one day and it caused both of them to not see or speak to each other for weeks. But eventually Freya told her father that Alfie was nothing but a gentleman and a marvelous boy towards her. Knowing that Alfie wasn’t never the type of man to lay a hand on her for any reason. Her father at first didn’t believe in her daughter for a while but eventually when one day Alfie without feeling afraid. Went to visit her home and talked with her family hoping that they will see a different perspective and let Freya be his friend. 

“If you ever do anything that will harm my lovely daughter you stay away from us and never come back. Is that understood boy?” Said Harald Freya’s father pointing a sharp finger at the young boy which in reply a nod in agreement. 

And after that discussion Freya was free to see and speak with Alfie which she was relieved that her father finally let her see her friend. It was as if that event just happened yesterday how he wished to relive that moment one more time.

Alfie then made his way towards the large opening of the bridge where he found Freya sitting on the wet cold ground. Hugging her legs together while she stared at the small campfire she made not too long ago. Her long dark brown hair was wet from the rain as well as her clothes. It didn’t bother her since she is after all a gypsy who has traveled to many places. And the rain was one of her favorite weathers feeling like she is at peace for the most part. Freya didn’t notice his presence until Alfie sat next to her. She scooted a bit to the side still feeling upset towards him not forgetting what he told her earlier. Alfie noticed this not wanting to push her buttons anymore knowing he has caused so much tonight. The crackling sound of the wood against the fire continued and Freya and Alfie didn't say much for a moment. While the sound of faint thunder was heard far towards the distance as the drops of water continued to gently pour down. Alfie wanted to say something at first but he didn’t feel brave to say anything yet. Freya tightens her long black scarf around her shoulders, feeling the cool wind feeling shivers running through her body. Noticing this Alfie without exchanging any words removed his long black coat from himself. He gently placed the warm material over Freya making her flinch but yet welcomed it. She looked him in the eyes giving off a small faint smile nodding her head in “thank you.” Alfie returned the gesture they both didn’t say much again. As some time has passed for too long Alfie finally surprising himself at the words he said next.

“I’m sorry,” is all that he could say looking forward to the fireplace.

When Freya heard him say those two words she looked at him with a confused look. Not believing in what he just heard him say.

“What did you say?” She then said wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.

Before he said anything he sat straight while clearing his throat. He turned to see his wife having to repeat himself again. Inhaling a small breath he heard himself again saying those two words he mostly never says until now.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you back at home my love. My frustration and stubbornness got the best of me and I never meant to say those things to you either. Work has been a pain in the ass these past couple of days and today was the worst of them all,” he says, lowering his eyes looking at his hands biting his lips together as he went on, “once those words came out of me mouth I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. Looking at your eyes I saw how hurt you felt and I wanted to just kill myself then and there for what I have said to the love of my life. I just…just.”

Freya could see the tears forming against his blue eyes knowing that he meant every word that he was saying to her. Seeing and hearing the guilt in his eyes and voice wishing he could take back what he didn’t mean to say. She also felt her eyes filling with tears as one teardrop stream down the corner of her right eye gently wiping it away with the back of her right hand. No words were exchanged Freya tightly hugged Alfie around his neck almost making him tilt to the side. But they both steadied themselves; she then felt his arms wrapping around her embracing in each other's arms. 

“I know you didn’t mean those words my love, but that doesn’t make me stop loving you no matter what. I love you so much my Alfie, like you don’t imagine,” she said leaning back to look him in the eyes, placing her right hand against his left cheek as their foreheads touch each other.

“I promise you at this very moment that I’ll not let my emotions get to me very easily. Because I never want to see my flower look sad and hurt ever again. And I love you too my Freya like you don’t know either,” he said back, placing a small light kiss on top of her forehead.

“I hope you know I’m not one of your workers who will tolerate your screaming and shouting, Alfie. I'm your wife." Freya reminds her husband placing both her hands on each side of his cheeks.

Alfie nods immediately. "I know, sweetheart.”

"Don't you ever do this to me again, yes?” Freya says, sounding not too angry anymore with a more relaxed smile.

He gives her a small smile while nodding again. "I wouldn't dream of it." He says as he gets closer to her. 

She can't stay mad at him forever, so she also gets closer to him. He leans down to kiss her, and when their lips touch, it all comes flooding back to him. The very first moment they shared their love for each other. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She could only imagine the beautiful bodies of other young women he had seen before she had ever met him. How could she compare? Surely they were much more beautiful than she. Every scar she had ever earned, from quick evacuations with her family when they encountered danger throughout their travels, were on display. They were like directions to every imperfection she had. Yet there she stood in front of the edge of his bed, bare. He stood before her, wearing only boxers. His bright blue-green eyes drank in every centimeter of her skin before they looked deep into her eyes. 

"Freya," 

The way her name gently left his mouth made her heavily blush. All she could hear in his words was love. The emotion was very clear, and it gave her some relief, but not enough to wash her nerves away entirely. 

“You’re absolutely stunning; a vision, a work of art.” He spoke, genuinely meaning every word.

He slowly closed the space between them, his eyes staying on her face the whole time as he walked a few steps towards her. She suddenly held her breath. She didn’t want to tell him that this was her first time having sex. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. 

He could see there was some concern written on her face, and it only grew the more he looked at her. 

“Alife, I…” 

He patiently waited for her to say what she needed, 

“I’ve never had sex.” 

His face grew pink at her confession. 

“We don’t have to do anythin’, love. I would hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I want to.” She quickly assured him. 

Silence took over between them as they stared at each other. 

“Neither have I.” He confessed. 

“What?” She asked softly. 

“I’ve also never had sex.” He clarifies. 

“Do you still want to…with me?” She asked with hesitance. 

“It would be an honor to have you be my first, my darling.” He answered.

She smiled up at him as her body relaxed a bit more. Slowly, she reached towards him, lightly placing her hands on his bare chest. It showed scars, all of them proof of his time away from home and fighting against enemies. A small smile crossed his lips as he placed his right hand at the back of her neck. His left hand made itself at home at her lower back. Before she knew it, he gently laid her down on his bed, helping her get more comfortable before he was hovering over her. His body was flush against hers but he made sure to keep his weight off her. 

“I’ll look after you, my love.” The promise was said in a gentle voice, and it caused the rest of her nervousness to fade away. 

Slowly, he dipped his head down and his lips began to pay special attention to the crook of her neck, leaving gentle kisses along one side. A sharp inhale had him straightening up. His eyes met hers, only to receive a nod. 

“I’m alright.” She whispered as a blush appeared. 

“I will not hurt you.” He spoke once he realized that she had been enjoying herself. 

Her focus on the soft pressure of his lips against the skin of her neck was broken when an entirely new sensation caught her by surprise. His right hand had begun to slowly trail up the inside of her leg. It traveled up slowly, leaving goosebumps behind as it rested on her hip. Lifting his head once again, his eyes were glued to her. He needed to make sure she was okay with what he was doing. The look of sheer lust in his girlfriend’s eyes was enough to send a blush erupting through his cheeks. He never removed his gaze from her face as his hands met at her underbust. 

“May I?” He asks, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. 

“Please.” She answered, arching her back off of the bed. 

He wasn’t sure if it had been the way she sweetly exhaled his name or if the sight of her so eager to be felt by him caused confidence to surge through him, but he was grateful that she trusted him so much. Slowly, his hands made their way up her sides, stopping on either side of her breasts. Very gently, he cupped them at the same time, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

“You’re warm.” She spoke, causing a chuckle to leave his mouth. 

“That’s one of the reasons you’re with me, innit?” He asked, watching a smile form on her lips. 

“One of many.” She answered, closing her eyes as his large, calloused hands began to completely cover her breasts. 

It was a nice contrast of rough against smooth. She enjoyed the way his hands held her so perfectly as his lips began kissing down her chest. They moved to kiss her left breast, then her right, and each kiss felt better than the last. He loved the way her back arched into him; it told him that he was doing a good job so far, and he wanted to keep that up. His index and thumb fingers found her nipples, and he gently began rolling them between his fingers at the same time. 

“Oh!” She moaned out. 

Her hands reached out to grab his arms, but by no means was she trying to get him to stop. Instead, she pulled him closer, and her fingers threaded his hair. She could feel immense heat between her legs, knowing that as much as she wanted to take it slow, she wasn’t going to last much longer. Her eagerness aroused him so much that his erect cock was throbbing in his boxers. Yet, he didn’t want to rush anything, for her sake. The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting her unintentionally. His lips continued their kisses along her chest, leaving light love bites here and there, before they trailed kisses up to her neck. One of his hands left one of her breasts to gently glide down her stomach and stopped just above the place she needed his touch the most. She moaned into his mouth, hoping to convey her feeling of arousal to him enough for him to be bold enough to touch her. 

“Alfie, please.” She whimpered after they pulled away.

“You’re sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Very sure. I need you.” 

“Say less, my darling.” He hummed out. 

He never removed his gaze from her face, his eyes boring into hers as his hands continued to move down her body while his mouth kissed every inch of her skin that was available. Finally, his fingers rested at her core, and the heat radiating from it was enough to make him groan in approval. Very slowly, his fingers circled her clit, and the look of pure relief flooded her face just as her head tilted back. Her back arched off of the bed and her hands found his hair to grab hold of. 

“Alfie…” 

The way she moaned his name had him circling her clit a little faster, wanting to see if the same blissful look would cross her face again. It did, and it made him so happy to see her enjoying his touch. His hands had done unspeakable things during the war, but none of that was important in that moment. Very slowly, he slid his finger inside of her, the accumulation of her arousal having made it an easy entrance. He slowly groaned as he felt her walls take his finger deeper, tightening around it while he gently moved it around inside of her. 

“You alright, love?” He asked, earning a moan in response. 

“More.” She breathlessly answered. 

“You’re sure?” He asked, slowing his movements. 

He stood up with his finger still inside of her, but he froze in place when she gave him a look of pure need. 

“I want you to make me yours.” She answered with such a seriousness that had his heart fluttering in his chest. 

“You're…sure?” He asked again as he hovered over her. 

“Yes.” She answered. 

His free hand made its way behind her head, lifting it enough so their mouth could meet for a loving kiss. He removed his finger from her aching walls and that hand swiftly slid down his boxers. No longer was there a barrier between them, and while it made her nervous, she found herself excited to finally be one with her boyfriend. He adjusted himself between her legs, gently parting them even more. When she caught a glimpse of his erection, heat flooded her face. It looked much too big to fit inside of her. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, having seen the way her eyes went a bit wide. 

“No.” She quickly answered. 

“Make me yours.”

Slowly, he brushed his cock along her soaking wet lips, causing them to slightly part. Then, very gently, he began pushing himself inside of her. Their groans harmonized for a few seconds as he stayed put for a few moments, allowing her to adjust to him. Everything felt so warm and so right when their lips connected once again. 

“You feel amazing.” He heavily sighed, the sound sending pleasant shivers up her spine. 

Her walls clenched around him each time he moved, the motion carefully done before he drove himself deeper. He held her body close against his, hoping to ease any pain that she felt. They lasted several minutes in that same position before her legs were wrapping around his waist. Their eyes met, and he could tell that she wanted more. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The speed of his thrusting increased, and it wasn’t long until both of them were moaning messes. She didn’t even have time to process the entirety of what was happening to her before she felt an all too strong sensation flood her body that caused her senses to be at a standstill. He stopped moving, wanting to make sure she was alright as her high ended a moment later. He peppered her face with gentle kisses before his lips were covering hers. 

“Freya, I…I’m close.” He warned her when he felt her walls fluttering around him. 

She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, preparing herself for what was to happen. He was about to move away from her to pull out, but she was quick to stop him by his shoulders. 

“Fill me.” 

A look of shock covered his facial features when he realized she was being serious. 

“Please.” She begged, and the whine alone was enough for him to give in. 

Hugging her to himself once again, he thrusted into her a few more times before he was groaning into one side of her neck. She softly moaned at feeling his hot cum filling her. He stayed inside of her for another minute before very carefully pulling out. He was quick to lay beside her, wrapping her up in his arms as she curled into his body. He reached for his discarded shirt, draping it over her as they both caught their breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, being the first to break the comfortable silence that filled his bedroom. 

“Yes. Are you?” She softly asked in return. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” 

He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. 

“Love, I should be the one thankin’ you for trustin’ me so much.” 

She smiled at his words as he kissed her head. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Epilogue: 5 years Later

“Where are those two rascals off too again?” Freya said to herself looking around from one room to another.

It has been a while since they moved out from Camden Town where Alfie was lucky enough to inherit a house near the beach. Margate was the name and it has been treating them fairly well where there was nothing else but a wonderful view of the sea and most of all quietness. But that wasn’t the only thing that brought the couple closer together. 

The sound of a small giggle was heard somewhere beyond the hallways which Freya knew exactly who it belonged to. 

“Alright now come out, come out wherever you all are,” called our Freya quietly tiptoeing her way towards where the chuckles were coming from. 

After Alfie and Freya got married some 3 years ago they afterwards welcomed their first child. It was such a blessing for the married couple that Alfie thought it was all a dream. Ellie was the baby girl's name, brown eyes like her mothers with a mix of stubbornness just like her father. It was a day to remember when they heard their baby’s first breath. Ever since that day Alfie was determined to be by his wife’s side, not caring if the distillery could continue without him. What mattered to him the most was his wife and daughter helping Freya out whenever she needed some time away from the baby. One late night however when Ellie was crying for hours Alfie took the baby in his arms while rocking against a wooden chair. He started to sing a lullaby to her in his mothers tongue which surprisingly made the little creature feel at ease. He also didn’t notice that her tiny hand was tightly holding onto his right index finger. He then smiled as he placed a gentle kiss against Ellie’s soft hair.

“I love you my little Ellie always and forever.” 

Freya continued to quietly make her way to the small giggles that she could still hear. Knowing that she is already near them wanting to scare them in surprise. 

“Shhh… be quiet mama is going to hear us,” said little Ellie to someone else.

A couple of months later after the birth of Ellie, Alfie and Freya then welcomed their second child. It was Alfie that encouraged Freya to have another baby which she didn’t hesitate to say no to him. Nehemiah was the boy's name that was given to him. Just like his father he wasn’t afraid of anything, always liking to get into some sort of trouble taking no for an answer but always obeyed his father whenever he would go one step far. But he would also have his moments whenever he felt like he needed to talk with his mother. Trying to also find his calmer side of himself and getting as much advice from his mother. 

“Whenever you feel angry or lost, always remember that I am here for you my love. And so is your father but just know that you're never alone my little one.”

“Oh you also be quiet Ellie I’m sure by now mama will hear us,” Nehemiah said playfully, nudging onto his sisters right arm not noticing their mothers presence.

“FOUND YOU BOTH!” Surprised Freya, making the two children scream from fright. 

Both children got on their feet quickly running away from their mother which she wasn’t too far behind. She scooped Nehemiah off from the wooden floor yelping and laughing while Freya hugged him tightly around her arms. She then placed a couple of kisses on the little boy's cheeks while feeling Ellie hug her mothers legs.

“Haha mama let Nehemiah go, how did you know we were here?” The little girl questioned, still holding onto her mothers leg.

“You both were giggling and that led me to finding your hiding place. But enough of playing around you two how about we get the table ready for dinner before papa comes home. How does that sound, my darlings?” She said kneeling in front of her two beautiful children while they nodded their head in “yes.”

Some time later it was already dark outside as the cool breeze blew ever so gently while Freya and her two children waited patiently for Alfie’s return in the living room. The crackling sound of the fireplace was heard in the background while Cyril lay down beside Ellie and Nehemiah while the children played with their toys. Freya was sitting on top of one of the couches while looking at the clock, seeing that it had passed the time Alfie should be home by now. Quietly tapping her right foot against the carpet floor the trio then heard the front door open. Indicating that they had finally returned home as Nehemiah and Ellie then ran their way out of the living room to greet their father. 

“Papa papa,” said both children in unison as Alfie opened his arms wide out to them while kneeling down. 

They all huddled down to the floor making both children giggle at their action.

“How are my two lovely children doin’ eh? I miss you all very, very much,” Alfie said as he gently stood up off the floor while Cyril nuzzled his wet nose against his owner's face.

“I also miss you as well you big mutt.”

“Ummm excuse me where is my welcoming kiss? I  hope you don’t forget about me Mr. Solomon’s,” Freya said, placing her hands on top of her hips but gave a cheeky smile.

“Hehe why would I not forget my lovely beautiful wife that always brightens my heart whenever I see her hmm?” He said getting up on his feet while Freya smiled and giggled as they both exchanged a kiss on the lips. 

“Ewwww, gross,” said Ellie, making a disgusted face which Freya found funny. 

Once the happy family settled down for dinner the night went on perfectly. As everyone feasted, Alfie and Freya held hands together as they memorized their beautiful little family. Not believing that they have come this far not expecting to have children this quickly. Alfie always thought he would only focus on himself growing his empire until his passing. But when he found Freya all those years ago as a child and saw how they both fell in love with each other. Suddenly all those ideas faded away seeing the perfect future already blooming in front of him. As dinner was ending both Ellie and Nehemiah started to grow sleepy while they all sat in the living room together. Alfie took Ellie in his arms gently taking her up stairs to her bedroom. Freya following close behind held Nehemiah in her arms while the child tried his best to stay awake. 

“Mama I’m not tired yet really,” protested the little boy but Freya wasn’t having it.

“Now my dear don’t be that way, it is late and you need your rest. And we’re going to the beach and if you don’t get your sleep you’ll be tired the next day. Now be a good boy and rest your eyes now, yes?” She said as she opened the door to the boys room as he placed him down on the soft bed. 

“Really mama, do you mean it? Oh I can’t wait to go now alright I’ll head to bed now,” cheerfully says Nehemiah as he gets himself under the bed sheets making Freya chuckle at this. 

“Very well my little Nehemiah i will see you in the morning my love. Goodnight my sweet boy,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on top of the boy's head caressing his left cheek in between.

Once Freya quietly closed the door behind her Alfie was already out of Ellie’s room. They both smiled at each other Alfie held out his hand towards his lovely wife. Freya walked up to him placing her hand on top of his making their way towards their bedroom. Once inside Alfie gently shut the door behind him and without losing another moment he embraced Freya around his arms. They both looked deep into their eyes as their foreheads touched against each other. 

“How is my lovely Queen Solomon’s feeling hm?” He asked, feeling her arms hugging around his neck while she let out a small giggle. 

“Wonderful as always you know I always still question to this day. How did I get very lucky to have you in my life Alfie? Why me and nobody else?” She questioned him wanting to hear those same words over and over again.

“Hehe do you really want me to repeat the same thing over and over again? How many times do I have to tell you my love? Because if I never met you in my life I wouldn’t have known such a wonderful spirit free and goddess like you. And that I am grateful and blessed   to say that you're my one and only woman. I wouldn’t want no one else but you my dear,” he said while gently placing Freya down against the bed hovering above her, taking in her thin lips between his.

Embracing each other in their arms they both laid there nakedly while Freya could hear her husband's heartbeat against her right ear. A small smile was spread throughout her face wanting to be like this forever. And all the while without Alfie not knowing Freya is expecting another blessing that was growing inside her womb.

I love you always and forever Alfie Solomons… until the ends of the earth…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

[imaeraser]

Hello!

I really love your headcannons about Strawhats with Teen reader, that's why...

If you don't mind - Can I ask for Platonic Strawhats with Female! Teen reader that tend to be the quietest in the crew because of her shyness?

I also had and the next idea after this one- but I don't want to overwhelm you with it. Take care of yourself!

Have a nice day!

Sorry for the wait, here you go!

Luffy

He was intrigued by you

That’s why he forced you onto his ship. And then he realized that instead of having a convoluted backstory, you were shy

And quite honestly it was refreshing

Even though he likes being around Chopper and Usopp and be loud as heck, he likes spending time with you

You balance him out

And even though you’re not an adult, he’ll go to you for advice. This makes the rest of the crew confused (and low-key mad) because he doesn't want their advice

But most of the time he doesn’t take your advice anyways

I think that you two are close, seeing as he is endlessly extroverted and will break through your walls no matter how hard you try

Most of the time he leaves you to your own devices, but he will drag you to large parties and make you feel as welcome as possible

He does the same on the ship, but that was never a problem anyways because everyone likes you

Feels the need to protect you, not only because you’re a member of the crew, but also because you’re the youngest

10/10 I can see him giving you some of his food (only some)

Zoro

Ultimate big brother vibes

Likes to go to you for a quiet space because the ship can be loud

So he spends a lot of time with you… sleeping

He also half-asks questions to fill up the space and gets to know you pretty well

He also feels a need to protect you since he sees you as kinda weak (but almost everyone is weaker compared to him)

He will also feel the need to shield you from the craziness of the ship

Like sir, it’s nice that you care, but they can take care of themselves too you know?

Doesn't incorporate you into the crew since… he’s mostly sleeping. But he would try, and he would fail because they already like you

Cue him being shocked that he wasn’t your only friend on board, but to be fair he is sleeping most of the time and not watching you

He likes the calmness you bring to the ship, good for his meditation sessions (but I don't think you want to just sit there why he meditates)

I can see you having fun with him and Chopper, maybe play a board game

8/10 calm down sir, they can take care of themselves

Nami

She’s like the cool and fun older sister

She likes to dress you up in her old clothes, and then gush about how cute you look (no, not her super tiny bikinis)

She takes it onto herself to guide you through… whatever I guess

Also feels the need to protect you from dudes

I think that she gives good advice, but when combined with Robin the two of them give life-altering wisdom

You can go to her for anything from how to sew to how to manipulate people

Always gives you juice when the crew starts drinking

If the ship starts to get too rowdy she will shout at everyone to keep it down, and then turn to smile at you as if her actions were for you

She will share her tangerines with you

I think that she wants to protect you, but is frustrated at the fact that she can’t be as strong as the Monster trio (but everything works out in the end)

If you borrow money from her, she will reduce the interest (only by a little)

9/10 only downside is the interest (if you ever borrow money)

Usopp

He was high-key suspicious of you

To be fair he is suspicious of anyone and everything, and seeing as you were quiet he was on the edge

But after you saved his life, he gets all buddy-buddy (really Usopp? You got saved by a teenager)

I think the two of you would get to know each other when he’s working on a new invention, and you guys are having idle chatter

Now he tried to act like a cool older brother. Always ready to swoop in and talk about his “accomplishments”

He will do just about anything to make you laugh

I can see some crazy (but fun) times with him, Chopper, and Luffy

He would give bad advice, but occasionally he does have some piece of wisdom

He would try to protect you, but… yeah

He ends up feeling bad, and incompetent. But tell him that he was amazing or something and he’ll be fine

I think he would get frustrated when you beat him at a game of cards

10/10 he is just so fun to be around

Sanji

Also acts like an older brother

He tries to protect you from guys, saying that they’re all dogs (but then you point out that he’s a guy)

This also means he tries to limit your time around Zoro, saying that he’s a bad influence

Then the two start to fight and right as they pull you into it, Nami hits both of them and carries you off to eat or something

Gives you more food because you’re still growing

He is a surprisingly good listener and when he chimes in his advice are always good

And like all of the crew, he will try to protect you from danger (ma’am you are still a teen, why are you on this ship? Oh wait, Luffy…)

I said he acts like your older brother, but he also acts like a proud dad sometimes

Like sir, why are you crying? All they did was perform twinkle twinkle little star on the piano (Brook taught you)

He also tries to restrain his pervert tendencies around you, but when they inevitably happen he can’t look you in the eyes for several days (he also smokes more. It gets to a point where you have to confront him)

He also teaches you how to cook

8/10 he can get a little extra sometimes

Chopper

If things get too crazy on the ship, he likes to go to you

I feel like he would try to act like a big brother, but you would just pet him (sorry Chopper)

I can see Chopper trying to get you to socialize more with the crew. Just drags you out with his tiny Reindeer paws

I can see you confiding in him a lot because it’s kinda like venting to a stuffed animal (again, sorry Chopper)

He gives (almost) child-like advice, but it’s so simple and it always works

I think you would beat both him and Usopp at games, and then they would proceed to chase you around

He would try to protect you, but he also knows that you need to push yourself to get stronger, so he lets you fight some of your fights

When you end up hurt, he always makes sure to be extra vigilant with your care

I believe that you would also try to protect him, but his pride would end up hurt

I think you two would spend a lot of time in his office for a quiet place to read (and for him to do work)

He makes you help him organize stuff

10/10 a great duo

Robin

She is the kind older sister

She is such a good listener, and her advice would solve all of the world's problems

If things get crazy on the ship, you go to her. She has the presence of calm around her that just soothes you

I think she would also like to participate in dressing you up with Nami. That means you get to wear Nami’s old clothes and Robin’s old clothes

Robin always has an extra book and cup of tea reserved for you. Tea times are when you two like to ramble about anything and everything. This is also the place where you can vent and the both of you talk about your past

She would like to teach you about world history, while you listen and ask questions

She would try to teach you how to read one glyph, but if it’s too hard she stops (and low-key gets sad)

Robin also lets you help her garden. She enjoys having a person keep her company while she does the things that make her happy

She thinks that you are too adorable, and that also makes her go into a momma bear mode when she thinks you are in danger

She will yell at crew members, and she will annihilate the enemies

Robin sees you in a similar way to Chopper, so if you say something dirty or cuss, her image of you will be ruined

10/10 she is perfection

Franky

I see him as a weird uncle figure

He mostly hides in his workshop and creates weird but cool inventions while you watch him and ask what he is doing

I don’t see you two talking about important things, just you two having fun and making jokes

He is fun to watch, but when he tries to get you to participate— it’s even more fun

I can see Robin trying to shield you from him (hey, he says he’s a pervert)

He would share his cola with you (I can see some very fun crew bonding time when everyone gets cola and huddles around Franky’s new invention)

Franky is the opposite of shy, so sometimes it gets to be a bit too much

Like sir, please leave them alone for one second

I think that Franky and Usopp would try to teach you how to make things

And if you like to prank people… they’ve created a monster

Expect all three of you to get yelled at

8/10 pretty good, but he does say some stuff that you don’t get sometimes

Brook

Another weird uncle

When he asked to see your panties, both Robin and Nami slapped him so hard, he had flown off

He never asked again

I can see him joining in on the Robin history over tea, and add things in he knows from living during the period (dang he’s old)

He occasionally makes the tea you three drink

I think he would try to teach you how to use a sword, and then get yelled at so he teaches you to play instruments instead

He’s a surprisingly easy-going teacher, if you don’t practice he’s not mad. He just assumes you don't want to learn. That means he won’t teach you, which leads you to practice

He would let you peek inside of his skull and then jumpscare you. It works every time

Brook would tell you about what he did during the two-year time skip, all while you’re laughing at the fact they called him Satan

I think that being around you and Luffy would make him remember his days as a teen

Starts to get all weary like a dad (and just like Sanji)

7/10 rough start, but good ending

Jinbei

He is the dad (not like, is)

He is always concerned for your health, and whether you should be fighting or not

He told Luffy that it was ridiculous to bring a teen on board, but then he realized Luffy is only 19…

Jinbei is always there to make sure you feel included, and will often leave the crew’s festivities just to hang out with you

Honestly, his old man self likes the quiet you bring

If you ask him, he’ll tell you about Fishman history (also over Robin History Tea Times)

100% tries to protect you. I think that can make you frustrated at times, but he has saved you so you can’t be too mad

So he teaches you Fishman Karate (it gets Robin’s stamp of approval because there are no sharp objects)

Jinbei gives the best advice, again dad and old man

He’s able to see different perspectives and tell you the best course of action (that gets annoying when you just want him to take your side, but you have Nami and Robin for that)

Also is proud of you when you achieve something (part of the tears dad group)

10/10 every group needs a parent figure

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Closed Casket.

Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.

It was a closed-casket funeral.

For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.

And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.

And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.

Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.

He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.

Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”

“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”

Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”

“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”

You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”

“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”

“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”

“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”

“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”

“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”

“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”

“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.

“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”

Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”

The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”

Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”

Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”

Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”

And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.

“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.

He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.

“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”

You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.

“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”

You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.

“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

[koishua]

⌜ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ⌟

𝐩: sim jake x fem!reader. 𝐠: angst, sprinkles of fluff, established relationship!au. 𝐰𝐜: 1.048k. 𝐜𝐰: self deprecation, insecurities. || requested by anon.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: insecurities were fickles little things and they make you start wondering if you are even worthy of his love to begin with. he takes it upon himself to assure you that you were everything to him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvvseong @igyus @intokook @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @fairyjunn @rutosruru-world @daystiny @luvholicz @imdamnconfused @renjunvrse @honeyseungz @angpambaodnimama @rae-blogging @yukika-bot @cofhees @zhongwrldzz @enhyseob @jitaros @jdyunvrs (click here to be added)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐯: to everyone who struggles like a lot of us do, remember that you are amazing. don't let anyone else tell you that you are not, even yourself >:( i am sorry, this wasn't what i had in mind, but it's out there now ig :)

remember that your feedback either through the comments or reblogs are worth so much to me <3

He was with her again, not that you had any problems with the fact that he spent so much time with a girl prettier and better than you were— scratch that, it stung more than you would ever admit to anyone.

Even to yourself.

The mirror you were terrified of looking at, for the fact that you wouldn't be able to turn your eyes away from every single flaw you would inevitably see on the glinting surface, stands covered with a loose piece of fabric. How you wish that you were stronger than whatever you are now.

Why was I born like this? You wonder what they are doing together while you are slumped on the ground, limbs tired and aching. You struggle not to think about her gorgeous locks, her button nose and doe-like eyes. They look good together, you can't bring yourself to deny that.

You wonder if their hands are brushing by accident as they walk around outside this instance. You wonder if he feels flustered by the way she might look at him with her perfect lashes shyly covering her glassy eyes. You wonder if he has thoughts about smoothing a thumb over her flawless skin.

For as long as the sun takes to set, all you do is let your thoughts run rampant, constant streams of 'what if's crush your self-esteem until all you are left with is a void where your happiness in your own skin used to lay.

The door chimes, snapping you out of the dark daze you were stuck endlessly in, mood brooding and face blank. You swing it open, eyes trained on the floor in silence as Jake steps in with a bright smile.

The fleeting footsteps confuse him, "Hi, love. Sorry for running late, time flew by so fast." He laughs to himself, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he plops on the bed.

You don't answer him, too caught up in your own head once again, rummaging through your drawers mindlessly. Jake furrows his brows, "Are you alright?"

He stands up with a groan, shuffling closer to you to wrap his arms from his place behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. The tensing of your limbs takes him aback, "I'm sorry, did I do something?"

Your breath gets caught in your throat, everything too much for your brain to process, feelings going haywire. You slide away from him, putting some distance between you and your boyfriend. "I am sorry, I think I'll just go to bed. I'm tired."

You don't see the hurt in his eyes. Instead you take your own pillow and escape into the living room to settle yourself on the couch.

"Did I do something wrong?", he approaches you cautiously. You scoff, sitting straight on the soft cushion, "No, of course not."

He pulls away, lips curling into a frown, "Why are you acting so hostile against me? What's wrong with you?" The words sting, your only response a crooked smile.

"Everything."

Your voice breaks halfway, softening his demeanor. "Listen to me. Whatever you are going through," he sits down next to you, still mindful of giving you space, "you can talk to me."

"You wouldn't understand, really." The shake in your voice doesn't let up even if you gulp down the lump continuously growing in your throat. You can't even bring yourself to face him, in fear that he would see every imperfection.

How could he? He was perfect, every bit as beautiful on the outside as he was inside.

"I can try. Please, tell me what's wrong. I'm sorry for anything I might've done to hurt you. I would never intentionally do things to make you sad." He searches for your eyes, leaning in.

The tears threaten to slip down your face and you look up at the ceiling, trying desperately to hold them back, gnawing on your lips. It breaks him, the sight of you clenching your jaw in attempts at holding back a whimper.

He holds your hand, clasping your fingers together and pulls you in, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bury your face in his chest, too afraid of letting him see the sobs threatening to build up and burst like a dam, a ticking time bomb.

He rubs your back gently, whispering in your ear, "It's okay. I'll try my best."

Your hiccups do not die down until later, though he patiently waits like the angel that he is.

"She is so pretty, you know that. She is perfect and gorgeous and flawless and she has everything I don't and some more." You mutter slowly, tired from everything the world has offered you today.

He sighs, "She is not you."

You stay silent. His voice picks up again, "You are so beautiful, it hurts me that you aren't looking at yourself the way I do. You are ethereal, you know? You smile at me like no other and I feel my knees go weak whenever you look at me like you always do."

He adjusts his position, now lying sideways on the sofa, sharing your pillow with you. You breathe in his scent, noting how he still smelled like himself distantly, no trace of perfume.

Jake is always warm against your skin, heat radiating off of him in waves as you sink into his comforting embrace. His words bring you to tears for a different reason than before.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. God, I wish you could see yourself through someone else's eyes. It's painful, the way you always manage to miss how perfectly pretty, beautiful you are."

No amount of words could ever convey the true weight of his feelings, "I love you."

You hear his soft voice, though it's difficult to focus as you slip in and out of sleep, drowsiness pulling you down into dreamland.

Jake doesn't mind the silence after, the soft snores enough to put him back at ease. At least, he had you safe and sound in his arms again. With that, he presses a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, continuing to rub soft circles on your back.

You were you and you were the one person closest to perfection in his eyes.

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios