#wind is my favorite if that wasn't clear

[legendary-cookies]

(Source)

GUYS I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[sterifels-blog]

creepypasta characters – how they’d react to you being upset over a small inconvenience 🤏

BEN drowned

•mocking sarcasm: “oh no, did the big scary printer jam again? total apocalypse. truly.” what became clear in his death, was he did, in fact, take his childish personality with him. he is no better than jeff when it comes down to teasing you for your dismays.

•playful teaser. he glitches around the room, mimicking your upset tone in a distorted voice, just to annoy you. it's spiteful, a little ignorant, but it's something you've come to grow used to. some things were just inevitable with BEN, and his torment was one of those things.

•offers digital comfort. BEN hacks a random game to create a hidden message for you, like “cheer up, loser.” if you don't reciprocate any sort of reaction back- you best believe he will be petty enough to rig a match for you. not so you can win, no. so you lose. just to agitate you again.

•awkward, awkward softness: if you’re seriously upset, he stammers, “hey, uh, don’t cry. i… don’t know how to deal with that.” very likely, he panics and goes to grab someone like jack or jane.

•weird with distractions. he'll float around, humming the zelda theme song until you laugh or throw something at him. if it works, it works. either way, you're too focused on smiling, or trying to hit him.

•over-the-top suggestion: “want me to corrupt their computer files? that’ll show them.”

•king of small gestures. leaves a pixelated heart drawn in a game you’re playing, then pretends it wasn’t him.

bloody painter:

•he observes quietly. sits in eerie silence, studying your emotions like he’s painting a mental portrait.

•when he is finished staring (although, admittedly, he does quite like the sight of you), he will offer some deadpan advice:

•“if it doesn’t matter in five years, it’s not worth ruining your eyeliner over.”

•if verbal reassurance doesn't do it for you, willingly, he'll engage in a paint-based gesture for his angel. he draws something comforting or silly (alternatively, absolutely crude) on a scrap of paper and hands it to you without a word, hoping it makes some difference.

•dark humor (where it is, and isn't appropriate.) “want me to take care of whoever pissed you off?” half-joking. maybe. if you say no, there is some genuine disappointment left lingering in his eyes. a missed opportunity to stock-up.

•unexpected comfort. gently touches your face and says some cheesy bullshit like, “the colors of sadness suit you, but i’d rather see you smile". he knows he's succeeded in making you feel something other than upset, when you are pressing your palm against his face and pushing him away with a groan of annoyance.

•will go extreme measures to make you a distracting gift. offers to paint you something. it’s his way of saying sorry.

•serious effort: if you’re really upset, he’ll spend hours creating something meaningful to cheer you up. although you'd clearly specified you didn't want him to maul the poor man who'd taken the last pint of your favorite ice cream flavor; the red coating of the little house he'd made you (in respect to the small abode you will "most definitely have" together), spoke otherwise to him listening.

•it's fucking disgusting, but don't discard it. it's the.. 'sweetest' way he shows that he cares.

clockwork:

•chaotic comfort. immediately threatens to stab whatever inconvenienced you. “who do i need to ‘fix’ for this?”

•pactical help (or a lack thereof): she does actually try to solve the problem for you, but gets frustrated if it’s not instant.

•(unhelpful) teasing: “aww, does my little clock need winding? let’s fix your mood.”

•joking aggression: “you’re upset? try getting stabbed in the eye and tell me how you feel". she soon after realizes this probably wasn't the best way to get through to you, and instead resorts to gently carding her fingers through your hair, sitting in an awkward silence after.

•when the silence gets to be too much, the most rational conclusion she could come up with was a random distraction. tosses something shiny or makes a loud noise to snap you out of it, almost, most definitely getting a sick kick of amusement when you jump in a startle.

•clumsy affection: roughly pulls you into a hug afterwards and says, “you’ll be fine. i’ve seen you handle worse.”

•this is shortly after followed by a soft admission. “i don’t like seeing you like this. it’s weird.” no sympathy on her face, just her nose being scrunched up in discomfort. but you can tell she means her words.. more for her sake.

eyeless jack

•jack is a quiet observer. he always has been, and will be. he notices you’re upset but waits for you to bring it up, not wanting to push you down a further slope than you were already on.

•when you finally begin to talk to him, for the most part, he simply listens. but if he notices it's getting to be too much, he'll offer some gentle reassurance: his voice is calm, almost nonchalant as he says, “it’s okay. you can talk to me.” he means it.

•words aren't easy for him. he's used to being silent, tucked away to the confines of his laboratory. it's why he chooses a more physical approach. cooking comfort. jack makes you a meal without being asked—though you might not want to know the ingredients. just eat it, and thank him.

•when he does speak, he offers the most practical advice out of the bunch: “you’ll survive. you’re stronger than whatever this is.”

•he's cold, but caring: “if it’s not life-threatening, it’s not worth worrying about. but... i get it.”

•soft-spoken comfort: stays close by, quietly grounding you with his presence. he'll offer you a spot in his laboratory for the time being, leaving you to watch as he hustles and bustles about. he isn't a fan of people in his space- in the slightest. but for you, he doesn't mind the company, so long as it helps. he won't directly admit it, but seeing you upset does something to his heart.

•it unfortunately, wouldn't be jack without some out of pocket, and highly untimed dark humor. he's working on his current 'patient', his scalpel against the lining of their abdomen when he would pause, as though an idea surfaced.

•“would harvesting an organ cheer you up? no? worth a shot.”

hoodie

•takes a more casual approach compared to the others. nudges your shoulder and says some nonchalant shit like; “what’s got you so down?”

•followed by some super-chill reassurance: “it’s not the end of the world. i’ve seen worse.”

•says it in a tone that makes him sound like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, and is instead saying it in prayer god gives him a second chance for being 'kind'. he does, genuinely care however. he wouldn't have asked if he didn't.

•when he realizes it's something 'trivial' (in his mind), he'll give you some lighthearted distraction. hoodie offers to hang out or go on a random drive to take your mind off it. if you accept to hang out, you're both watching some rag-tag channel that your old, boxy ass television could pull up. it's absolutely shit. if you accept the drive, the radio is on, playing some old song that helps you clear your mind. the two of you definitely get going.

•if it's not the radio you're focused on, it's his singing. it's either god awful, and it makes you want to die more than whatever inconvenienced you at first, or he should have been a choir boy.

•snack attack: you two pull into a gas station along the way to fill up the old piece of rust. he goes in, comes back out with a pack of cigarettes and some chips in hand. he'll carelessly throw the bag of chips at you and say, “here. don’t say i never do anything for you.”

•soft teasing: “you’re cute when you’re mad, but let’s not make it a habit.”

•followed by some subtle care: puts his hoodie around your shoulders if you look especially down, or you're out late on your drive and it's getting cold.

jason the toymaker

•100% makes a toy bribe: instantly offers to make you a custom toy to cheer you up. “what’s your favorite color again?” it's cheesy, but it does have it's odd way of working it's magic.

•jason can get into quite an overprotective mode, often getting himself frustrated when he cant disect the root of your problem. “what caused this? tell me so I can fix it." .. "am i going to kill them..? what does it matter?"

•the answer is yes. yes, he is.

•soft-spoken comfort: “don’t worry. i’ll always take care of you.” he has a way of reassuring you even when you have your doubts, almost with an expertise that surprises you. if you were ever questioning his genuinity, he's answered for you.

•possessive guilt-tripper. “i don’t like seeing my favorite person like this. smile for me, will you?” he's sweet, in the worst of ways. jason knew all he had to do was flash you that charming smile of his, and you'd bend to his will. it was both a curse and a blessing.

•makes up some distracting hobby. he invites you to join him on a whim in making something to calm your nerves. (he definitely ends up taking over your craft.)

•encourages gentle insistence much like bloody painter. “you’re allowed to be upset, but not for long. it doesn’t suit you.”

•creepy but.. comforting? reassurance: “nothing bad can happen to you while i’m here. i'll make sure of it.” you aren't allowed out of his sights for a while.

jeff the killer

•mockery overload. “aww, you’re upset? should I call the waaah-mbulance?” he's a fucking asshole and he knows it, but his emotional boundaries hold no shame. if you knew any better, you would think he didn't care if he made you feel better or worse.

•teasing to comfort: purposefully annoys you until you either laugh or yell at him. he is 100%, more than likely aiming for the latter, getting a sick sense of satisfaction from knowing you're wound up now because of him. “see? you’re not upset anymore!”

•he's a twat with territorial anger: if it’s someone else’s fault, he’s immediately ready to fight, thinking of the most irrational ways to kill someone for your sake (though there is already nothing rational about him). “who do i need to carve a smile into?”

•though a selfish sod, he does have some genuinely surprising softness when it comes to you. if you’re genuinely upset, he awkwardly wraps his arm around your shoulder and says, “it’s fine. just... chill, okay?” he's rubbing your back until his hand is numb, or you become agitated.

•clumsy reassurance: “you’ve got me, so who cares about dumb stuff like that?”

•even throughout the comforting, his offer of violence still stands. “say the word, and i’ll make it disappear. permanently.”

•jeff is the absolute fucking worst for guilt deflection. if he caused the inconvenience, he’ll deny responsibility, but quietly try to make it better. he sees admitting to his faults as a weakness, but a few hours later, when he‐ again‐, sees your mood hasn't improved— he's begrudgingly coming over and taking your hand to apologize. his words are lazy sounding, but they are true. it pisses him off that he has to go such lengths to make you feel better, but in the end, it's you. so he'll cope.

jane the killer

•she is a direct comfort sort of woman: “what’s wrong? talk to me.”

•when she notices its an re-occuring issue bothering you more than usual, she'll go into problem-solving mode. jane listens carefully and offers solutions, even if you just want to vent. she loves listening to you talk, even if it's under more unfortunate circumstances.

•has a protective streak much like her male counterpart: “if it’s someone else’s fault, i’ll handle it.” and she means it

•queen of tough love. it's her kingdom. “you’re stronger than this. don’t let it get to you.” she's seen too many people react irrationally because of minor inconveniences (jeff), and she would hate to see you deliberately get into trouble because of something as 'simple' as frustration.

•silent presence: if words won’t help, she stays with you until you feel better. if your room is a mess, she'll clean your clothes off the floor, fold, and carry your laundry to the washer while you relax on your bed. she won't let you leave until she's positive you're at least feeling a little better about your situation, and even then, she's by your side for most the day.

•though she can be just as stubborn as anyone else, jane does make a soft admission: “i hate seeing you so upset. tell me how to help.”

•makes some gentle distraction (unlike clockwork): she suggests watching a movie or doing something fun together to lift your spirits. she will likely end up doing your makeup, the two of you on the floor together until your spirits start to rise.

laughing Jack (i hate this motherfucker)

•over-the-top antics because he's just like that, unfortunately. he's a piece of shit, but tries to make you laugh with ridiculous jokes or obnoxious pranks. a for effort, i guess. he's giving it his best shot.

•much like jeff, being a complete dick, there is that aspect of mock concern: “oh no! we must alert the circus of your sorrow!” sarcastic cunt.

•there is some aspect of unexpected sweetness with him, i would think (hope). if you’re genuinely upset, he tones it down and says, “hey, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

•he's crouching down onto his knees as you sit on the edge of your bed, his large, ugly ass hands cupping your face the best he can without shanking you with his gross, long fingers. his thumbs 'gently' rub your cheeks as he let's you breathe your frustration out.

•clownish ass distractions: pulls out a random toy or silly object to cheer you up. from out of fuck-all nowhere, he pulls a doll out from behind its back. it's even more hideous than him, which is difficult. it's stuffing is gruesomely ripped out, instead, packed full with grotesque looking candies. he'll awkwardly discard it on the floor when he sees it's only made your mood worse. what an idiot.

•chaotic energy: “let’s go do something fun! or dangerous! or both!”

•you don't feel like doing anything

•gentle honesty: “i'm not good at this comforting stuff, but I’m here for you.”, even though you already knew that. though the semblance is appreciated.

kagekao

•you're still a victim of playful mockery. "you look adorable when you’re mad. like a tiny storm cloud". he's mocking you while you want to punch him into a smear.

•teasing distractions. he pokes at your cheeks or steals something of yours to make you chase him. he genuinely does not care that you feel murderous tendencies towards him at the moment. it's his life mission to torment you eternally.

•jovial comfort: “don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything. or, at least, pretend I did.”

•surprise gifts. when he knows he's pushed you too far, he will opt to leave you a random (sometimes unsettling) trinket to cheer you up. he knows he's the source of your agitation, so he tries his 'best' to make up for it.

•more lighthearted annoyance. “you know i can’t take you seriously when you’re pouting like that, right?”

•unexpected wisdom from someone who is such a cunt to deal with. “life’s too short to stress over these things. laugh it off.”

•silently lurks nearby until you calm down, offering his silent presence as comfort.

masky

•masky will often show a reluctant concern, not outright admitting he's worried about your fluctuating attitude, but instead inviting you to chat. “what’s wrong now?” his tone is gruff, but he genuinely cares.

•practical help: masky fixes the problem (if possible) without saying much about it; especially when it comes down to it being an issue with anything containing an engine. if you're frustrated by an issue you're having with your vehicle, calmly, he'll tell you to give him the keys, and if he's feeling nice enough, he'll invite you out to hold the flashlight for him. just make sure you keep it steady.

•vaguely annoyed, but supportive: “seriously? you’re upset over that? fine, let’s deal with it.” he's the type to teach you about fixing your own issues, so you'll know how to deal with it next time.

•protective side: “if you need help with this, come to me. you don't need to be going to.. random guys to fix your car."

•he's definitely jealous at the thought of you going to anyone else for help but him.

•silent comfort if it's anything else that physically, he cant fix. he sits near you, not saying a word but making it clear he’s there for you.

•backhanded affection: “you’re too stubborn to let this keep you down, right?” he knows you'll take it as he's doubting you; and that you'll smarten up quick.

•masky gives you grudging hugs. awkwardly, he pulls you into a hug if you’re really upset— often on the porch as he's having a smoke. you'll be sitting on the steps, tucked up to his side. if he feels nice enough- his jacket will end up slung over your shoulders.

slenderman

•i'm going to be flat with you, he does not care.

•but if he did, he would be calm and composed. it doesn’t affect him, so he has no reason to reacf but to calm you down. “you’re letting this get to you? that’s beneath you.” he sounds unamused.

•stoic support. slenderman offers silent reassurance with his unyielding presence. sometimes he's there, sometimes he isn't. but, you always have that lingering feeling of him being close by. it's both comforting and frightening.

•intimidation tactic: “shall i remove the source of your distress?” he’s deadly serious, for the most part.

•he's slightly patronizing. he doesn't really grasp a sense of confliction about this like you do. he doesn't really get why you're making such a fuss over something so blatant. “this is not worth your energy. focus on what truly matters.”

•both helps and frustrates you more. sometimes it's pointless to explain to him.

•..somewhat gentle understanding. if you’re truly distressed, he places a hand on your shoulder and will tell you to excuse yourself from any activities later in the day.

•eerie distraction: creates a serene yet unnerving environment to take your mind off things. the effort is.. there.

•cryptic advice: “all things are temporary. even this feeling.”

ticci toby

•dry sarcasm “wow, the world’s ending because of this. guess we should all panic.” his tone is teasing but not mean-spirited. he just doesn't understand that it's truly bothering you to that extent, until you breakdown to him.

•gentle understanding: “yeah, okay, I get it. sometimes the little stuff just… builds up.” he leans back and listens without pushing you. he knows you're already overwhelmed, and makes it a point to give you some space while still being there.

•subtle comfort. he offers you his jacket or quietly sits beside you, muttering, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i'm not going anywhere.” like masky, he keeps you close to his side, whether sitting on a log or walking down the path. he'll encourage you to hold onto his arm.

•toby has a protective streak: “tell me who or what caused this. i’ll take care of it.” his voice is calm, but there’s an edge that means he’s serious. he doesn't like the idea of anyone pushing you around— only he can play around with you like that.

•gounding presence: if you’re spiraling, he places a hand on your shoulder or holds your hand. “breathe, okay? just focus on me for a minute.” too many times he's had to do this by himself. he understands the complications of losing yourself— and if you don't have to go through it alone, he won't allow you to.

•dull humor to lighten the mood. "if it makes you feel better, i've probably done something way stupider than whatever you’re upset about.”

•quiet reassurance: “you’ll get through this. you always do. it’s not as big as it feels right now, i promise.” he speaks softly but firmly, making sure you know he’s in your corner. he always is and will be. he's a bit more gentle than the rest.

[ssahotchnerr]

Thinking about reader asking Jack what Aaron’s favorite meal is and then reader surprising him by making it when he comes back from a case? It may not even be his favorite meal, Jack could easily say his favorite instead 💀, but coming back to a home cooked meal has him like 🥹

cooking up trouble

STOP cw; established relationship, mentions of food, small burn description, brief suggestiveness 🤭, aaron being sooooo sweet 😣 wc; 1.1k

jack's besides you, standing on a chair and assisting - aka your little helper.

"careful." you gently warn, intently watching as jack stirred the boiling pasta. you were weary of the threatening steam, the droplets of hot water flicking out of the pot.

"i'm being careful."

"i know you are love, 'm just being cautious. sometimes boiling water has a mind of it's own and i'd hate to see it spit at you."

jack happened to burn himself once in the past, as the two of you were making cookies. he had merely grazed the baking sheet and the burn was less than mild, just a small tinge of skin that vanished within five minutes, but it had both of you in tears - in which jack did not witness on your end, you cried later that night in bed with aaron. it was an accident and no one was at fault, but you still felt awful.

and ever since, if jack wanted to bake or help with dinner, you complied, but were more on alert, extra careful, feeling partially at guilt.

you even considered putting the oven mitts on his hands for an extra layer of safety. however, they were much too large for him, would cover well past his elbow, and would make it more difficult to mix - the constraint potentially making it more dangerous.

in the distance, the click and shut of the door announced aaron's arrival home, and jack was quick to yell daddy! amidst stirring. meanwhile, you didn't dare to direct your focus to anything that wasn't jack. it doesn't take long for you to feel aaron's presence behind you, his familiar cologne invading your senses.

"hello." his voice is a little more singsong, lighter as he's happy to finally be home. aaron leans forward to kiss your cheek sweetly, then places one on the top of jack's head, more accessible than usual from the height given from the chair he's stood on. his chest is to your back, hands winding around your waist. "what's this?"

you peer back with a grin. "your favorite. we'd thought it'd be a nice surprise to come home to."

aaron paused. but due to the clear enthusiasm in your voice, and not wanting to dampen your spirit, he was quick to agree, hand running up and down your abdomen. "uh-yeah. it looks amazing. and smells even better."

you felt the hesitance in his posture, chest vaguely stiffening behind you, as well as noticed a hint of forced strain within his voice.

your heart dropped a bit, in surprise, carefully taking the spoon from jack, turning the stovetop's dial down a notch. "wait, is it not?"

another kissed was pressed to your temple, a hand splayed on your hip. "anything you make is my favorite."

"no." you huffed a laugh, turning around to face him and waving the spoon at him, "don't pull that. is this not your favorite?"

"well," aaron exhaled a breath, his head cocked a bit to the side as he considered how to approach the bench. he could try and convince you that yes, it was, but at your exasperated expression, he knew you wouldn't accept anything else. "it's good. but if i'm being honest, it wouldn't be my first choice, no."

your shoulders fell in slight defeat, but aaron craned his neck down to glance at jack, who had been suspiciously quiet. in fairness, aaron knew what was going on the second he realized what was cooking.

as if he could feel his father's stare, jack peeked up, eyes lined with the small guilt of being caught, but accompanied with a smile. he knew, that dad knew.

aaron's eyebrows lifted, the ends of his pursed lips raised in amusement. "but if i recall correctly, it may be a certain, someone else's favorite."

it took you less than a second to catch on.

"jack!" you whine-laughed, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you told me tortellini was your dad's favorite."

he blinked at you, playing up the innocence in eyes. "i thought it was."

"just like how you thought dad needed ice cream sundaes afterwards too?" you arched in eyebrow in question. that, you knew was jack's own request, but you decided to indulge him anyway when he mentioned it as the two of you were shopping for ingredients.

jack nodded with a toothy smile, clearly proud of himself. "uh huh."

"okay you sneaky little bug," you hoisted jack up from the chair, placing him down. "how 'bout you go set the table. dinner's just about ready."

as jack scurried off to the dining room, again, an embarrassed laugh escaped you. "i feel silly-"

"sweetheart," aaron stopped you. "this is wonderful. a homecooked meal, prepared by my favorite person. with the help of my son, although the cunning sous chef? there's not much i can complain about."

"but i thought-"

"whatever you thought, still applies. i am surprised. i'm thrilled to be coming home to a warm dinner. i'm touched you thought of me. i'm so sick of takeout, you have no idea."

by your slight off-putting expression, aaron could tell you still weren't convinced. hopefully, his next playful remark would further settle you, easing your mind.

"i also think it's hilarious jack managed to pull this on you."

you immediately snorted a laugh through your nose, prompting a laugh to exit aaron too. "i have a soft spot for the hotchner boys, what can i say."

"and we love you for it." aaron teased, giving you a quick kiss. "do you need help with anything else?"

you nodded, your expression softening to normal, one of content. "there's fixings for a salad, if you wanted to quickly throw that together?"

the two of you worked silently, simply enjoying each other's company; aaron tossed the salad together, complete with romaine, miscellaneous vegetables, adding a garlic vinaigrette. meanwhile, you oversaw the sauce, making sure the salt amount was just enough to bring out the flavor, but not overpower.

"what is it?" you asked suddenly, tapping the spoon against the edge of the pot to return any lingering sauce.

"what's what?"

"your favorite meal. i can't believe i don't know."

"i already told you." aaron pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. "anything you make."

you retreated with a hmph and a playful eye roll, resisting the urge to smile. you lifted the pot from the stovetop, trailing over to the sink to dump the pasta into the strainer. aaron followed, fingers slipping into your belt loops and pulling you against him suggestively.

"if you're looking for a PG answer, that is."

[luimagines]

Hey hey!!! Saw you opened asks- so I wanted to send my love and appreciation for everything you do💕💕

Maybe a reverse of “You Blurt Out Who’s Your Favorite” , where the chain accidentally say that reader is their favorite? Silly pining ensues. (You don’t have to do this as always. Have a good day 💕)

Sure thing, Anti! I hope you have a good day too! <3 :D

Masterlist

Immediate Reader, boys under the cut!

"I am the best!"

"In your dreams!"

"The greatest!

"Uh-huh."

You snorted as the boys all ragged on each other. Typical sibling behavior.

They were all playing the game of 'Who is the greatest? Certainly not you.' And you were trying really hard to not make it seem like you were paying attention to their shenanigans.

"Well, Malon likes me more!"

"No way! I'm her favorite."

Screw it you're joining this.

"I am the favorite!" All eyes turn to you as you smirk.

"....I doubt that."

You laugh and cross your arms. "I have yet to be proven wrong."

"Well you're certainly mine."

***

Legend

Legend crosses his arms as he rolls his eyes. He sees the group look to him and huffs. "I mean, honestly- Hello? Have you met them? They're easily the odd man out here."

"Ok." You deadpan. "Rude."

"Which means-" Legend flicks your forehead non too gently. "-that you're not as annoying or willing to throw us all off of a cliff."

"That was one time!" Wild shouts from the back.

"Well regardless, I can trust them to get the work done with out having to pick up the slack." Legend admires the ring on his fingers, acting nonchalant about the whole thing.

Some of the boys all seem to shuffle nervously on their feet. they seem to know what he's talking about.

This catches your attention. "Wait- hold on. When was this? What happened?"

Legend grins, looking like the cat that caught the canary. "A while ago. You were too busy doing your part to notice that we had been left to get rid of the rest of the monsters."

That last part was pointed. And you don't think his bombastic side eye was helping matters.

Ok. So Legend was holding a grudge. That's good to know.

You cleared you throat and rubbed the back of your neck. "So... that makes me your favorite?"

"Especially so." Legend turns back to you. His expression almost changes in a full 180. Before it looked at if his glare could have set them all ablaze but now his gaze is almost... soft. Tender, even.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you're shocked that you're even beginning to feel flustered by it. "....Don't mention it."

"I haven't." Legend winks and you bite your lip, losing your nerve and looking away. "But I don't mind bringing it up that you've been most helpful."

"Ugh, gross, he's flirting." Wind groans and shoves his way between the two of you, breaking the moment in twain. "Get a room! We don't need to see it!"

"I wasn't flirting-"

"That wasn't-"

'Yeah, yeah..." Wind blows a raspberry, making some of the others boys snicker. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Twilight

"Thank you." You grin and happily start walking with a spring in your step.

Twilight seems to pause, letting his words sink into his head. The others rapidly catch on that he hadn't intended to say that out loud, but you seem none the wiser and actually quite pleased with this revelation.

You skip ahead and even go as far as to loop your arm with his. "I think you're pretty neat too, Twilight."

He coughs and rub the back of his neck with his free hand, letting you hold his dominant arm hostage. It's not like he's complaining. "I'm glad."

Hyrule snickers on the side lines and Twilight finds it in himself to send him a particularly nasty look. Over your head, naturally, so you don't see and don't get the hint that some of the other boy seem persistent to drop in his stead.

You drop your grip on his arm to hold his hand instead, swinging your hands together as you all walk. "Good to know that I'm the favorite over all."

"That can't be it." Legend says with a smirk on his face.

Twilight growls. "Shut it-"

"Twilight said so. You all heard it." You fire back, ignoring Twilight's words. "I am the favorite."

"Mhm." Time hums in agreement. "I don't see why not."

"Old man." Twilight stresses the nickname, pleading as wordlessly as he can to let the subject drop and let him live.

You finally look up to him with a tilt of your head. "Were you lying?"

Panic stabs his heart and he rips his hand away from you in shock as he tries to salvage the situation. Whatever it is he's trying to salvage anyway. "What?! No! Of course I wasn't lying! I think you're incredible!"

"Ok!" You grin as if nothing had happened and grab his hand again. "That's a relief. I wasn't going to say anything but you're my favorite too. So it all works out in the end."

Twilight flushes as you begin to drag him forward on the trail. "....I beg your pardon?"

"You're pardoned!" You start swinging your hands again. "Let's go!"

Time

You trip over your feet and snap your head to face the old man who hadn't even bothered to look in your direction.

Surprisingly, it was Twilight who spoke next. "...Well that doesn't very fair."

Time snorts but comments no further.

Part of you wants to beam in joy. And to rub it in the rest of the boy's faces.

That's high praise coming from Time and you all knew it.

There's a sudden pep in your step as you keep walking forward. "Ha! I'm Time's favorite. Na nana na~"

Time smirks and watches you with an amused smile. Wind groans dramatically and launches himself onto Time's arm. "But come on! We're all cool and nice and how come I'm not your favorite?"

"It's not that you're not my favorite." Time explains gently, chuckles as he pries Wind off of his arm with a particularly rough hair ruffle. "It's that they-" He points to you. "-don't make it their life mission to give me grey hairs before my time."

"You don't need our help to get grey hair, Old Man." Legend teases.

Time swipes at the hero playfully, letting him easily evade his grasp. "I'm fully aware. And yet you all seem keen on making it happen."

You laugh, feeling more proud of yourself than you probably should. It feels good, even if there's a little voice in your head that's telling you Time only said you were the favorite to tease the other heroes. Even if that were case, you can't bring yourself to mind it. You can tease the others about it as well!

Twilight seems particularly put out and you make it a point to stick your tongue out at him out of childish pettiness.

Twilight catches on and pouts harder, sticking his tongue out at you in return- right for Time to clock him in the back of his head. "Easy, Pup."

"They started it!" Twilight cries petulantly.

"I'm ending it." Time gets a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, I didn't hear them arguing with you lot about who was the greatest among you."

You put your hands on your hips. "I am quite awesome though, aren't I?"

Time sighs. "A mark of a true hero is humility." He flicks your forehead. "But yes- you are awesome."

Sky

"Awww... Sky, that's so sweet!" You put your hand to your heart and grin at the suddenly bashful boy.

"Ah- well... You're welcome."

Hyrule laughs and slugs him on the shoulder. "You didn't intend to say that out loud, did you?"

"Nope." Sky scratches the back of his head.

"That's ok." You pat his back, feeling a little better about your own ego. "I think that makes it all the better."

"...Right..." Sky smiles a little tensely, seeming a little more nervous than he's willing to let know.

"Wait-" Warrior raises an eyebrow. He says your name questioningly. "Who's your favorite?"

"Oh! Hyrule."

"Huh?"

"Yup." You give Sky a wink while the other boys start rapidly firing questions. Not because they want to know why Hyrule, but they want to know why not them.

You know, like the children they are.

Sky relaxes a little bit when you walk forward to keep the attention of off him and onto yourself, giving him enough time to collect himself and then wonder if you wee serious or not.

So... you didn't technically help him despite your efforts, but you don't have to know where his head space is at.

"...You were serious, weren't you?" Hyrule says in a quite voice. "Did you mean that as in more than just being a favorite?"

"...So when I say I didn't intend to say that out loud-"

"Sky, oh my god."

"I know."

"You even looked them in the eye-!"

"I know!"

"..."

"..."

"....My condolences."

"Don't remind me." Sky groans, hiding his face in his hands.

Warrior

Everyone freezes before all heads slowly turn to him.

Your jaw drops in total shock. Of all people to say something in this context, in that manner, he was would have been at the bottom of the list.

Warrior raises a cool eyebrow, daring to smirk as the cherry on top.

No body makes a move, almost afraid to break the tedious atmosphere around the group and once rowdy boys.

You clear your throat, garnering the attention for yourself against your wishes. You however, keep your gaze on Warrior. The son of a gun winks.

You flush and feel the need to clear your throat again. You were trying to be sarcastic and facetious. You weren't expecting a genuine response. At least you think he's being serious. The silence certainly doesn't help you get your nerve back.

"Moving on." Warrior turns on his heel and begins to walk away, leaving you all in the wake of his cutting sentence.

You try to meet the eyes of the other but they're all looking at you for your reaction instead.

You throw up your hands in a desperate attempt to get the attention off of yourself. "I didn't tell him to say that!"

"Of course not." Warrior has the gall to speak once more on the topic. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

"You-!" You shout, unintentionally being louder than you intended. "SHUT! Not a peep out of you!"

Warrior gets a gleam in his eye that spells trouble for you later. He grins even wider and blows you a kiss.

You have half the mind to throw something at him.

Wild leans up next to you and bumps your shoulder with his. You turn to him in a desperate attempt to hide your shame. His eyebrows dance in a knowing fashion and you give completely. Shoving the Champion as far aware from you as you can, you also begin to get a move on for the day.

The others boys laugh quietly around you, amused at the turn of events.

"I hate all of you."

"No you don't!" Someone gleefully calls back to you.

"Why don't tell that to Warrior?" Four teases.

You plan revenge on him specifically. Instead of following through with that however, you speed up to catch up to Warrior.

"Am I really your favorite?" You find yourself saying before you could stop yourself.

Warrior chuckled. "Of course. Have I ever lied to you?'

"Well..." He has a point there. You take a deep breath. "No."

"Well, there you have it."

Four

"Are you serious?" Wind pouts. "I thought it was Time."

"Nope." Four puts his hands on his hips. "And unlike some people, I'm not afraid to speak my mind. I said it and I'll say it again. They're my favorite person here. Any one that disagree has to come up with some pretty convincing evidence to make me change my mind?"

You beam and feel yourself bubble up with happiness. You bounce on the balls of your feet and clap happily. "Yay! I'm Four's favorite!"

You turn to Sky excitedly, pointing in his face. "Eat it!"

He gives you a startled look before he starts laughing under his breath.

Four snorts and shakes his head. "Any objections?"

Most of the boys shake their heads, amusement twinkling in their eyes. Four grins as well and shrugs. "I guess we're done here."

You giggle like a maniac as everyone starts falling back into line, the conversation ending then and there with Four's declaration.

You on the other hand, feel like that you've gotten the ego boost of a life time. You're not entirely sure why. Being Four's favorite went straight to your head and elevated your mood to a whole other level.

"This is the greatest achievement of my life." You say, not entirely sarcastic as you wanted to sound. "I think I can die happy now."

"I didn't think it would make you this happy." Four noticed you bouncing on cloud nine. "Do you think I'm that special that it's so important to be my favorite?"

You pause and blush softly. A beat passes with all eyes on you and you decide to bite the bullet. "Of course I do. You're also my favorite person."

"Person?" Wild catches your slip up.

You snap your head to him and stick your tongue out. "Don't even start. I said what I said. I won't take it back."

You turn back to Four and see him giving you the softest smile. Your heart starts pounding in your chest. Oh. That's new. You finds yourself smiling back.

"Get a room!!" Warrior drops his hand to your head, nearly throwing you to the ground as he ruffles your hair. Twilight does the same to Four, ruining the moment.

"Hey-! Get off!" You shout and shove the hero away.

"Twilight, watch it!"

Wind

You snap your head in the direction of the voice and feel a wide grin cover your face. "Well thank you very much, Pirate."

You reach over and ruffle his hair roughly, playfully throwing off his balance as he yells and tries to fight you off without making it into a legitimate fight.

"Ok, ok, take it easy you two." Time steps in, taking your hand off of the boy with a light chuckle on his breath.

"That's it." You say, meeting the rest of the group with a wild gleam in your eye. You aim to start trouble. "Wind is officially my favorite too. The rest of you stink."

"Oh, come on. Be nice." Wild snickers, throwing his arms round your shoulders to shake you just as playfully. "We all have our good moments. Why does Wind get the sudden promotion?"

"Well you literally stink." You jokingly, pinch your nose and throw him off of you. "Come on, Wind."

You turn around, sticking your tongue out at all the other as they snicker at Wild's offended face. Wind was laughing loudly, happily taking your outstretched hand when you offered it.

"Let's go to the front of the group where all the cool kids hang out."

"Ok!" He giggles, swinging your hands together as you start to walk a little faster to get ahead of everyone else.

"Are we just going to let them get away with this?" Wild shouts, having his pride wounded by your throw away comment.

"I mean..." Sky shrugs.

"Seriously?!"

"They're not wrong." Warrior snort, gently knocking the back of the Wild's with the heel of his wrist. "Maybe change your clothes every once and a while."

"You're one to talk." Wild grumbled, taking out his sheikah slate to look for something to wear. "I am not that bad."

You bite your lip to keep your amusement at bay and shrug as well. "If it's any consolation, Wild, you're not as bad as Twilight."

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to!" Wind calls out for you and laughs loudly once more, pulling you along before taking off in a sprint. You looked behind you to see what happened, only to see Twilight chasing after you both.

"Wind, run!"

Hyrule

"Rulie', you gotta warn people before you say things like that." Wild chuckles as he knocks the Traveler in the back of the head in your stead while you stood staring at the boy agape.

"Sorry." He blushes and rubs the back of his head. "I couldn't stop myself fast enough."

"Wait- hold up." You find yourself saying. "....You mean it. Like... really really, you mean it. You wouldn't react that way if you didn't."

Hyrule coughs and bite his lips, bravely meeting you in the eyes. Goodness- you didn't think you have a thing for him but that particular expression has all cylinders firing off in your brain at once. You didn't even know he could pull that kind of look off. And he's not even trying!! It's not that kid fo context!

"Yup... I uh-... Well, there's nothing wrong with admitting it, right?"

"Rulie' I thought we had something." Legend dramatically put his hand to his heart, falling with his full weight onto the other hero. "The betrayal is deep Hero of Hyrule."

"Get off of me!"

"Just twist the knife deeper while you're at it!"

You snort and quickly cover your mouth with your hands, horrified that sound escaped you so easily.

It catches Hyrule's attention easily.

In an attempt to clear yourself of the embarrassment, you lean heavily in your bravado and wink at the hero in front of you. Hyrule manages to throw Legend off of him but he suddenly can't look you in the eye.

Hey- it was to save yourself from the embarrassment, not him.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it." You find yourself saying. You continue to lean into your bravado and put your hands on your hips. "You're my favorite too, Link. So don't worry about it."

"Wait, really?" He looks up back to you, with a light dusting of pink over his cheeks.

"Um- they said Link." Warrior throws his arm on Hyrule's head, using it as a head rest. "Clearly they meant me."

"They did not!" Wind jumps on Warrior's arm. "They meant me!"

You start laughing again and when your eyes meet Hyrule's once last time, you wink again for good measure.

You both know who you meant.

Wild

"Whoops, did I say that out loud?" Wild laughs awkward, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. He scratches it, worried about how all of the people in the group turn to look at him.

"Yes." Sky tilts his head, trying (and failing) to keep the smile off of his face. "Yes, you did."

"My bad." He coughs, clearing his throat in the process. He does nothing to clear the blush on his face.

"Really?" You whisper, feeling your heart swell.

Wild bite his lip, turning on his heel. If he was trying to play it off and be inconspicuous, he's doing a horrible job of sweeping it under the rug. "Of course. Now- where were we?"

"No nono no no-" You grin wider and begin to chase the resident wild child. "You're not running away from this."

He actually takes off in a sprint.

You squawk, as do some of the other boy in the group before you decide to call his bluff and chase him as well. "Wild, get back here!"

"No, I'm good!" He shouts over his shoulder.

You nearly stop as you process your words before you decide to pick up the pace. You don't respond at first, too focused on closing the distance. You watch the hero as he runs, watching the steps he takes to copy them and not trip over the unfamiliar terrain.

He's not familiar with it either, but he seems to assimilate to any climate faster than anyone else you've ever seen.

Until he starts to slow down and looks behind him to see you running at him at full speed.

The scream he lets out is nothing short of comical and the brief second it took him to process and react to what he was was enough to allow you tackle him.

It doesn't work. He's too strong to be knocked over that easily but an attempt was made.

You laugh, feel as light as feather and very much out of breath. "Am I really your favorite?"

"Why did you chase me?!"

"That doesn't answer my question." You smile cheekily.

Wild pants and puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. "...Yes."

"Perfect!" You kiss his cheek and start to run back to the group before either of you could get into trouble. "See you back at the group!"

"....What does that even mean?"

[seraphinitegames]

Hello, wonderful being(s) who operate this blog. Wayhaven has become a sort of home for me and I thank you so much for making and sharing it with all of us. It’s amazing to watch the world and fandom grow and following the process with you!? Incredibly generous and dedicated of you! It’s so clear that this is a labor of love and I hope that after all your hard work you are impressed or at the very least satisfied with the incredible amount of work you put into every aspect of this. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Feel free to ignore this, but it’s a question I think about often while reading Wayhaven. We all know that N doesn’t like technology and believes (perhaps rightly so) that nowadays we rely on electronics too much. I happen to be legally blind and rely heavily on technology to get around that. Such as using my phone camera to zoom in on something I can’t see or read. Or having to need a voiceover to ‘read’ my books for me. N is my favorite and I wonder how they (and perhaps A, since they’re so old and seem to be rather wary of tech too) would feel about this aspect of technology or if the MC had to depend on such workarounds for their own limitations. I love how independent and capable the MC is and that there is no pressure or plans for the MC to become a vampire. But this particular ‘what if” comes to me often if I happen to be thinking of Wayhaven while I go about my day with my little tricks and such to do what I need to in order to see and get about.

So sorry for the long winded message. >.< Thank you so much again.

Aah, what a wonderful and kind message! Thank you so, so much! I'm so happy to hear Wayhaven is a home for you. I truly wanted it to be a space people can fall into and just lose themselves in.

As for your question, Nate/Nat probably would never have thought of the benefits of technology in this way. When they can fall back on magically-infused aids to help in things, that's where they would go to!

Adam/Ava is at least more open to uses of technology, but doesn't tend to use tech outside of what the Agency offers too.

N and N came from ages where tech just wasn't a thing, and even after all these centuries, they haven't come to rely on it yet, lol! :D

Thank you so much for the ask and again for the amazing message! <3

[maomao-words]

Fell into the Wind Breaker fandom, got my heart stolen, so I decided to write about (some of) my favorite boys.

Also, Kiryu is my beloved, and I think he deserves more attention and love in this fandom (please).

No TWs. Just endless fluff.

How they act when they have a crush on you:

Sakura Haruka:

Oh. Oh.

Brace yourself for a whirlwind of profound confusion. You will simply not be able to tell if Haruka hates your guts, wishes to never lock eyes with you ever again, or actually wants to smother you with affection to the verge of death.

The way Haruka instantly blushes at your mere sight, crimson seeping all the way down to his neck and collarbone, will make you dizzy with fondness for him. But the way he equally proceeds to stammer at cheery greeting, before spitting something along the line of "I wasn't waiting for you or anything!" before huffing and puffing and disappearing, will make you feel dejected and abandoned at times.

Haruka will spend his mayhem-like crushing stage both near you, always protecting and watching over you, and from a distance, panicking at these strange feelings welling up within his heart and filling him with a warmth he has never experienced before.

My dear, be patient with this foolish child, for he has suffered so much. He likes you so, so, so much that he does not know what to do with himself. But do no fear. Once Haruka's heart is set, nothing, and no one, can make it sway away from you.

Umemiya Hajime:

If you thought spending time with Umemiya was enjoyable before, time filled with nothing but his tender smiles and light jokes, wait until you become the only person reflected in his eyes.

Umemiya will simply refuse to let you leave his side. Wherever he goes, you have to be there, hand entangled in his.

Expect to be enveloped in hugs at all times of the day, and for seemingly no reason at all. If Umemiya is happy, deep in thought, sleepy, or even hungry, he will first reach out to squeeze you in his arms before beginning to whine about whatever state he is currently in.

Brace yourself to be considered as the boss' girl, even if Ume has yet to tell you about his feelings. Umemiya will ensure you get treated with as much respect as he receives, and will make it clear for everyone in the school that you are not to be touched.

Umemiya will try to gauge your level of comfort before attempting to start any kind of romantic relationship with you, which might lengthen the crushing stage by a while. But once he feels that only an affectionate yes will be your answer, Ume will not waste any more time.

Choji Tomiyama:

You might think Choji's friendly attitude and cheery aptitude will make differentiating between his platonic and romantic affections highly difficult. But once you start experiencing being the target of his fondness and devotion, you will realize how extremely wrong you were.

If you thought Choji was touchy before, brace yourself to experience true clinginess.

Choji has to be touching you at all times. A hand at the small of your back as you walk with the team, an arm around your waist as you sit together on a bench, and even a hand tightly holding yours as you cross a busy street.

Choji's smile, bright as the sun, will increase in intensity each time you make your way to him after finishing up your tasks for the day. Expect to be showered with straightforward compliments, and seemingly never-ending praise, as you fight off a deep blush from dominating your features.

Rest assured. Choji will not be able to keep his crush a secret for long. So hang on tight and wait for him.

Kiryu Mitsuki:

Oh, to have Kiryu pine over you. What a literal dream.

Expect to be pampered. Lots and lots.

Kiryu will offer his arm to you whenever you have to walk down a flight of stairs, gently hold your hand in the crowded areas of the town, and offer you the most honeyed praises about your clothes, style, face, and everything.

Do not ever be afraid of walking home in the dark after finishing a late study session. Kiryu will always be there, leaning against the wall opposite your building, waiting for you.

His face would instantly brighten under the street lamp as soon as he spots you. He would greet you with his usual cat-like grin, before starting to ask you about your day. Kiryu will distract you with the conversation as he takes away your bag, heavy or not, and slings his own jacket on your shoulders, all within the span of a few seconds.

Late night walks have never felt safer than with him by your side, ready to send anyone, who would even do as much as glance at you, face first into the floor.

Reciprocating a crush has never felt this easy before.

[felinecyan]

Wonders of the Skies

[Keigo Takami x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When he finds himself bored, stressed, or tired… he seeks comfort in not only the stars, but his favorite spot to relax, right on your balcony.

WC: 3634

Category: Fluff, Pre-Rise of Villains arc

Since my other fics are filled with angsty drama (and my birthday is officially four days away 🗣️), I decided to be nice and drop one that’s full-on fluff. Enjoy ☺️

『••✎••』

The stars being out should've been his first sign. The clouds were thin, the night sky clear of any smog, and the wind was still. A beautiful night. The perfect night for such a tiring day.

He was all over the place with his schedule. Between patrolling his section of Musutafu, taking reports from his informants, and training his little fledgling, he could barely catch a breath. Not to mention, he had to deal with the paperwork that came from the Hero Commission.

So he was exhausted. He needed a breather—something to make his body relax after being worked so hard. So, wishful thinking and a bit of insomnia were the perfect excuse for him not to enter the warmth of his apartment.

And there you were. Standing on your balcony, leaning against the railing as the soft breeze of the night blew. The moon's soft glow reflected against your skin and hair. The way the light framed your face and illuminated your skin was nothing short of beautiful.

You had no idea he was there, standing on the rooftop just above your apartment building. He always did this. On nights when he felt the weight of his responsibilities too much, he would come to you.

Your apartment was one of the tallest buildings in his area. It gave him a bird's eye view of everything below, the perfect vantage point for him to keep a watchful eye out for anything suspicious.

It was just an added bonus that you were here.

The first time he came here, he only stayed for a couple of minutes before returning home. He was just checking the place out and getting familiar with the area. Then, he found you.

He saw how you leaned on the railing of the balcony, gazing at the night sky and humming along to a tune only you knew. It was something he was familiar with, something that soothed his mind, but he couldn't figure out where he had heard it before.

So, he asked you in the most subtle way possible.

"What are you humming?"

And the reaction you had was enough to make his forced smile genuine.

Thinking back on it, he probably shouldn't have popped up like a damn jack-in-the-box. You were peacefully enjoying the night sky until you looked up into his upside-down face and nearly had a heart attack.

His first meeting with you was definitely memorable.

He remembered the look of absolute shock and fear as you stared into his face. And then he remembered the moment your expression shifted into one of irritation as you scolded him for scaring the hell out of you.

You, scolding the number three hero for scaring you. You had some serious guts to do something like that.

That's what intrigued him about you in the first place. It was a nice refresher when comparing you to his... "fanbase."

But he was getting off-topic.

As he gazed at you from the rooftop, he felt his eyes soften. It was odd how you had this effect on him.

Just looking at you made him feel relaxed. Not to mention your voice, how sweet and comforting it sounded. Even if you were just humming, you still held his attention.

He could listen to your voice all day.

He let out a quiet sigh as he leaned on the railing of the roof. From up here, you seemed so small, almost insignificant compared to the size of his city. But, in his mind, you were much bigger than the city itself.

He couldn't quite explain why, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Your presence alone was enough to make him feel at peace.

With one final sigh, he hopped down from the rooftop. He wasn't properly wearing his headpiece, but it was fine. He didn't mind the whistle of the wind in his ears. It was only for a few seconds, anyway.

In no time at all, right before he hit the ground, he snapped open his wings and caught the wind. He watched as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his boots thudding against your metal railing. You spun around, looking like a deer caught in headlights, only to glare at him when you realized who was the cause of your heart stopping.

"Jeez, Hawks," You placed a hand over your chest. "A warning would be nice."

He chuckled as he landed in front of you. His wings were open wide, the tips of his feathers brushing against the edges of the railing. "But then I wouldn't get to see that adorable look on your face."

You huffed and crossed your arms, your glare still in place. It didn't seem like you were really mad, though. There was a twitch in your lips that made him smirk.

There were some things he could really struggle with, but deciphering all the emotions and expressions on people's faces? That was easy. It was something he needed to learn when he was younger, and while he might not use the skill often, he was still happy to have it.

It helped him get a read on people, and more importantly, it helped him know villains and criminals.

And, occasionally, it helped him figure out what the hell you were thinking.

"How was work today?" You asked, already forgiving him for scaring the shit out of you. "Busy?"

"Eh, the usual," he waved off. "Patrol was a breeze. A couple of muggers were caught stealing purses, but that's about it."

He watched as you tilted your head, your brow raised. "You're not telling me the whole story."

"Well, what can I say?" He shrugged, finally hopping down from the railing. He stretched out his wings and folded them against his back. "I'm a man of many talents. Gotta keep some of the fun parts to myself, right?"

You scoffed, opting to stare at the city below rather than give him a response. He didn't mind, though. He liked looking at you, whether it was your face or the scenery.

"What about you?" He asked, stepping beside you. "How was your day?"

"Good." You sighed. "I'm happy it's Friday. I needed this break."

He chuckled. "Don't we all?"

Though, he never really took breaks. Well, not proper ones, at least. The closest he got to a vacation was going undercover for an extended period of time. But that was far from relaxing.

"I had to set up a surprise party for one of my friends," you said, a tired smile on your face. "Well, technically, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. He's been through a lot recently, so I thought it would help lift his spirits a bit."

"Sounds like a fun time," Keigo mused, a smile on his face. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, his birthday," you answered, your gaze shifting back to the city. "I've never celebrated his birthday, so this is the first time I've ever thrown a party for him. I'm honestly a bit worried that it won't be good."

Keigo hummed and turned to face the city. "I'm sure he'll love it. It's the thought that counts, right?"

"Yeah." You laughed quietly, looking at the sky. "I just hope he'll enjoy it."

For a few moments, silence enveloped the two of you. A comfortable one, but still silence. It gave him the time to appreciate the view in front of him.

Sure, the city lights were bright, and the air was a little stuffy, but the moon's light and the stars' glittering made it worth it, especially when they were reflected in your eyes.

You looked ethereal.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly," you said softly as if the sound of your voice would disturb the stars. "What it would feel like to soar through the sky. Just imagine the view."

He looked at you, watching your expression carefully. You didn't notice his eyes on you. Instead, your attention was on the sky, your gaze full of wonder.

He hummed, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Want a demonstration?"

You snapped your head towards him, your eyes wide. "What?"

Without saying a word, he removed the headset against his neck and slid it back where it belonged. He turned his body towards yours and spread his wings, stretching them out. He then reached his hands out to you, his smile growing wider.

"What are you doing?" You asked, eyeing his hands cautiously.

"What do you think?" He retorted. "Come on, take my hands. I won't drop you."

Your expression didn't change. If anything, your wariness grew.

"What?" He teased. "Scared? You don't trust me?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You know, it's times like these that make me question our friendship."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, his smile remaining. "Just take my hands. It'll be fun."

For a second, you continued to stare at him. And then you let out a sigh.

"Okay, fine," you muttered, grabbing onto his hands. He figured you probably thought you'd have time to relax and prep yourself, but no. He couldn't be here for too long, and this bird never liked being cooped up.

He only waited long enough to ensure you wouldn't fly out of his arms. Then, with a mighty flap of his wings, he pushed the two of you into the air.

The look on your face was priceless.

He'd seen fear before. Hell, he'd experienced it plenty of times. But seeing it on you? It was hilarious.

Your grip on his arms tightened, and your legs flailed around in a desperate attempt to find something to hold onto. And even though he couldn't hear you, the way your mouth opened was enough to tell him that you were screaming.

His stomach hurt from how hard he was laughing. He wanted to look at your face again, but he didn't want to kill the two of you. So, he opted to keep his focus on the sky above and the city below.

He made sure to avoid the clouds and kept his wings steady. You wanted a demonstration, right? Well, a demonstration you'd get.

He glided through the sky, letting his feathers do the hard work. And while he had been in the air countless times, this felt different.

Usually, when he was flying, it was because he had to save someone. He didn't have time to appreciate the view or take in the fresh air. And even when he had some spare time, he would spend it napping or taking reports from his informants.

But now, he could relax. No emergencies, no patrols, no paperwork, and no informants. It was just him, the stars, and you.

And for once, he felt like a regular guy.

He wasn't Hawks, the number two hero, or the kid with too many feathers and not enough time. He was just a regular guy—someone who could fly and who could show the wonders of the skies.

"You can open your eyes now," he called out, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard. Of course, he wasn't completely sure they were even closed in the first place, but you were clutching his arms pretty tightly, so he figured it was safe to assume they were.

Slowly, he felt your grip loosen. Your legs stopped moving, and your head turned away from him. Your eyes were closed, and he watched as you hesitantly cracked them open.

He didn't say anything as you stared at the sky, your eyes wide. The look on your face was one he would treasure forever.

Your mouth was parted slightly, your gaze was full of wonder and amazement, and your expression was a mixture of surprise and joy.

It was like a child seeing a new toy.

"Woah," you breathed out, your grip loosening more. "This is... wow."

"Right?" He laughed. "Oh, here, let me lend you some help."

Before you could ask what he meant, the pair of visors against his head detached themselves and flew in front of you. As quickly as they were removed, they were replaced, and he smiled at the gasp that left your lips.

"The wind gets annoying," he explained, a smirk on his face. "This makes it easier to enjoy the view."

"Don't you need them? To see, I mean."

Aw, concerned for his safety. How cute.

"Nah," he waved off, "I've done this plenty of times. My eyes are used to the wind."

You hummed, and then your arms moved up and rested on his shoulders. Your legs stopped flailing around, and your body leaned closer to his. He was glad you did. You were starting to slip.

"Is this better?" He teased, a grin on his face. "No more screaming, I hope?"

You glared at him, though there was no heat behind it. "You know what? Yes, it is. Now, can we please focus on the view?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. We can."

After a few minutes, your gaze finally left him and settled on the view. He took the chance to look at you, to memorize your features, and to burn the image of you in his mind.

He didn't need the view you needed; he's seen it plenty of times. Instead, he wanted the view he'd never get a chance to see—the one where you were enjoying yourself.

He wished the moment would last longer so that he would have more time to put a smile on your face, but the time flew by. Plus, he needed at least two hours of rest, and it was already close to midnight.

So, he slowly descended back onto the balcony, landing softly and gently. Disappointment was clear on your face as you gave him back his visors and looked at the sky longingly.

He understood. It was the same feeling he had whenever he landed. It was nice being in the sky. It was nice not having a care in the world.

It was nice being free.

"Thanks for that," you said, turning to him with a small smile. "That was amazing."

"You're welcome," he smiled, taking off his headset and resting it against his neck once again. "Hate to ruin the mood, but unfortunately, duty calls."

"Already?" You frowned, "At least stay for some tea."

He would love to, but he really shouldn't. He was already pushing his limit as it was.

"Sorry, doll," he sighed. "Another time, okay?"

You let out a quiet hum and looked at the city. He followed your gaze, and for a second, the two of you stood in silence.

He couldn't believe it's been three months.

It felt like yesterday that he found you on the balcony. Now, you were standing in front of him, offering him a drink, and he was about to reject it.

But he couldn't, not today. Today, he needed to leave.

With a sigh, he turned towards the railing and stretched his wings. His boots scraped against the metal bars as he climbed up, his feet finding purchase on the railing. He looked back at you, his wings twitching as he prepared to take flight.

"Wait!"

He froze, his body turning towards you. He cocked his head to the side and watched as you walked towards him.

"Before you go," you said, a hand reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a key, its surface shining brightly from the moon's light. "I wanted to give you this."

He felt his heart drop as he took the key. He looked down at it, his fingers grazing over the metal.

"That... surprise party I mentioned earlier? I'm going to change it to a dinner," you said, giving him a gentle smile. "I feel it aligns with your schedule better; more of a chance for you to drop by, you know?"

He felt his eyes soften, and a small smile formed on his face.

"Why change the entire birthday party because of me?" He asked, raising a brow. "Shouldn't it be what your friend wants? Since it's his special day and all that?"

"Well, yeah, but—" You hesitated. "I mean... don't you look at dates? You know what date it's going to be in... I don't know, five minutes?"

He raised a brow, the smile on his face widening.

"It's going to be the 28th of December."

"Yes, and...?"

You blinked.

"What do you mean, and?"

"Do you want the exact time and minute, too?"

Your lips were parted, and your eyes were wide. He couldn't help but laugh at the look on your face. You looked so shocked, so surprised.

"I can't believe it," you mumbled, your mouth finally closing. "So, you're telling me that it is so insignificant that you can't even remember the date of your own birthday?"

That smile of his... faltered.

His heart dropped.

His stomach twisted.

His blood turned cold.

What did you just say?

"My birthday?" He croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. Oh, how his voice shook.

"Yes, your birthday," you replied. "When's the last time you celebrated it?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind was blank. He couldn't remember. Of course, he knew what tomorrow was; he always made himself aware of the date, but what about the day itself? He didn't have a clue.

He'd never celebrated his birthday, not since the Commission took him. There wasn't a reason to, and there wasn't a need for it. You had asked him when it was three weeks ago, and he remembered every conversation and figured it was plain curiosity.

He thought you'd forgotten.

"Are you okay?"

His eyes snapped towards yours, and the concern in them almost made him fall. Almost.

"I... got it right, didn't I?" You whispered, taking a step towards him. "I didn't just mess up your date, did I?"

"No, no, you didn't." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "It's just that... well, I haven't celebrated my birthday in a long time. I... honestly didn't think I was missing out on much."

You hummed and nodded to the key in his hand. "Well, how about we start now?"

He looked down at the object in his hands. His fingers brushed over the smooth surface. It felt warm against his skin, almost as if it were inviting him.

"Tomorrow, we'll celebrate your birthday," you continued, your voice soft and comforting. "Whenever you can. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to make it, and I'm okay with that, but if you can, then that's great."

"I—" He looked at you, his eyes shining. "How'd you know I'd visit tonight?"

You snorted, a small smile on your face. "You always visit on Tuesdays. I didn't have high hopes, but I'm glad I did it anyway."

He was stunned. Speechless, even. He didn't even realize every time he visited was on a Tuesday. Hell, he didn't even know he had a schedule.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" You nudged him gently. "Go home. Get some rest. Stop by tomorrow if you can, or just enjoy the day. Either way, happy birthday, Hawks."

His wings twitched, and a warmth filled his chest. His eyes softened, and his lips curved upwards.

"Keigo."

You faltered, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Huh? You want me to leave?"

"...What?"

"You said 'okay go' so—"

"No, no, that's not what I—" He let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm saying, Keigo. Call me Keigo."

"...what?"

He was starting to regret this.

"My name," he clarified, looking at you. "Keigo Takami. That's my name. You don't have to call me Hawks, not if I can call you by your name. Just... uh, don't go around calling me that, you know? Keep it a secret. Between us. Yeah?"

He cringed. God, he sounded so awkward.

But it didn't matter because you evidently didn't hear the stutters and the hesitation in his voice. Or maybe you did and were nice enough not to point it out.

Either way, a wide smile was on your face, and your eyes were bright.

"Happy birthday then, Keigo."

Oh, he wasn't used to this. Hearing his name was a new experience. It's been so long, so, so long since he heard it. Honestly, it's been so long, and his brain was trying so hard to connect his name to him.

He missed hearing his name.

He loved his name.

"Thank you," he smiled, and it was the most genuine smile he's ever made.

And then he jumped. His wings spread, and he took off into the night. But unlike the other times, he didn't go straight home.

Instead, he went higher, higher, higher. Until he couldn't, and then he stopped, his gaze fixed on the sky.

There were so many stars, and the moon was big and bright. The wind was harsh, but he didn't mind. He was used to it, after all.

But what he wasn't used to was the warmth in his chest. It was foreign and strange, but he liked it. He liked the way it made him feel, and he wanted to keep it forever.

And so, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And, without a doubt in his mind, he said the words that were stuck in his throat for so long.

"Happy birthday to me."

Because not even two minutes after he left, on the 28th of December, 00:01 AM, he received a text from you:

The key wasn't your actual gift, by the way, so make sure you eventually swing by, whether it be tomorrow or next week.

Again, happy birthday!

And then warm feeling in his chest only grew

[romanoffsbish]

Surprise, Surprise

Scarlett Johansson x Reader (no pronouns used)

Scarlett was wrapping up another day on set when she got unexpected news… Aka, R visits her on set | WC: 1,366

A/N: Purely fluff — R is not given any description but their infant is described as looking like them both.

"Your son is the cutest!" Elizabeth sang as she giddily approached Scarlett who had been stood behind an accordion panel, changing out of her characters outfit. The blonde grinned and nodded along, it was the truth and she was used to her costar gushing over your son, but it was usually over photos she'd show her...

——

“His cheeks are just so chubby, and so squishy—you and Y/N created a little cutie; bring him to set more."

"What do you mean more?" Elizabeth's smile fell, "I am now realizing I might've ruined a surprise."

Scarlett smiled at her aloof friend, "Thanks for that!"

Then she took off in a hurry, abandoning her plans to change, leaving in her favorite pair of sweats and her character's black and blue striped crop top instead. It had been a week since she last saw you two, as you both agreed moving your son a lot wasn't ideal, so she filmed during the week and was home on weekends.

Except the last one since she had to film promo for The Outset in New York while your current home was in LA so it was random fleeting hours over FaceTime, and that made her dream for the day her schedule clears.

Scarlett needed you in her arms more than she needed anything else, well besides to kiss your son's cheeks so she kept up a decent pace even though she was winded. Just as she rounded the corner of the lot she caught sight of you walking up the steps of her trailer, her eyes sparkled with joy, but then they narrowed when she saw the diaper bag lowly dangling from your arm, with your other hand cradling your sleeping babies head to your chest, you were clearly trying to safely ascend.

The blonde jogged a little faster, concern ebbing its way into her soul as she saw you move up another step. Just as you were about to move again she arrived, her hand seamlessly took the diaper bag so you could grip the side rails while her other firmed against your back.

Scarlett felt as you sighed and it made her smile, you opened the door and almost as soon as you entered she had circled you and stopped in front of you. "Thanks."

Your wife smirked, "No need to thank me love,” her lips then closed the distance left between yours and her hand pushed you into her, “I always got your back."

Scarlett giggled when you threw your head back with a playful groan, “you’re just so cheesy Scar, stop it…”

Your wife instantly pouted, feigning offense, “Why?”

“Because I can’t have our son following your lead,” you responded while gently cupping his ears to make sure your wife understood the message. “He’s vulnerable.”

Scarlett scoffed, “If I remember correctly it was my corny quips that won you over baby, you ate it up.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” you deflected with ease as you slid from her hold and started to move towards her bed so you could set Noah down, but just before you could she pulled you back in and kissed you until you had forgotten what you were planning to do.

The blonde felt warmth slowly spread throughout her body as she melted into the feeling of your thumbs gently caressing the soft skin of her fuller hips. Just beneath her chin lay the adorable, snoring cause. It was hard for her at first, adjusting to the physical demands of pregnancy but then she had your son.

Not only was he the most adorable infant she’d ever seen, but she saw the natural way in which you took to parenthood. With the unwavering love you not only held, but expressed, like in small moments like these, she learned to cherish the changes and to crave more.

If not for her predetermined, already rearranged once schedule she would have convinced you to make more. Hell, she even considered asking you right now… This is her last commitment for a long while, and shooting was set to wrap up next month. It was the perfect time.

A soft whine pulled the two of you apart just in time for a pouting baby to whip his head back from your chest, his eyes and frown shone with deep grumpiness as he slowly blinked, eyes fluttering with a clear fight as his body decided if it was even ready to be awakened yet.

Scarlett smirked at you and you nodded your head in agreement, the two of you shared another peck before both of your lips firmly planted on your son’s cheeks. He grunted initially but the two of you felt them upturn and a gentle giggle left him at the tickling sensation.

“There’s mama’s happy boy,” Scarlett coo’d and your son’s head whipped to the side as if he had only just realized who it was that kissed you and his right cheek. His giddy babbles warmed your heart but his inability to keep still strained your back and led to you swiftly removing him from the harness so he could leap to her.

Scarlett caught him with ease and you sighed in relief. It was his new favorite habit, he’d just leap from one person to the next, hence the need for a baby carrier to restrain his urges and the potential script for Xanax you’ll need as he becomes more daringly independent.

The two of them were in their own world the moment you were no longer attached to them, swaying softly as she told him all about her week. It almost hurt your feelings but you knew it was their time to bond and hers to finally spill the movie secrets even you weren’t allowed to hear so you ventured off to the bathroom.

When you returned thirty minutes later, after having slipped off to take a walk—something you also needed, they were calmly laying in the bed, your sons sleeping face was now smushed against her exposed abdomen and you smiled at the scene from the ajar door.

“You’re letting a draft in,” your wife teased as she shut the book in her hand. Without a word you replied by shutting the door and moving further into her trailer. Scarlett watched you curiously as you slipped your shoes off then as gently as you could you joined them.

Her fingers softly stroked over the skin of your cheek, then it did the same for your sons right after as you were both currently utilizing her stomach as a pillow. As her hand returned to rest on your head yours moved to continue to caress your son’s sweet face.

Noah was your first of hopefully many, miracles, the perfect blend of you two in both features and attitude. Scarlett’s heart nearly combusted as she saw the same desires she held for months now blossom in your eyes.

“How much longer until you’re all ours Scarlett?” The blonde gently guided your face until your chin was resting against the softened muscles of her abs. “I am always all yours,” she smiled gently, her gaze genuine as she stroked your cheek. “My entire heart is here.”

“Entire?” She nodded, gaze a bit confused as you questioned her level of loyalty. “That’s too bad…”

Now she was amused, and played right along, “Why?”

“Kinda hoping there’s room for more,” you began, voice light and lovestruck as you cradled your son’s face in one hand and reached out for hers. “More?”

You nodded, then confirmed her hopes, “More little ones just like this goober that’s drooling all over you.”

Scarlett beamed, “I’ve been hoping you’d say that for actual months now baby. I want endless little you’s.”

You smiled as you placed a gentle kiss to the subtle ridges that adorned her stomach before nuzzling against the warm skin—an attempt to burrow into her which you knew to be impossible, yet you always tried.

“I love you, my beautiful baby mama,” you mumbled tiredly, lips gentle as they kissed her belly once more. The blonde chucked then stared down at your calm face in relief. “I love you too, you beautiful fool.”

[shaunamilfman]

your name has echoed through my mind

Summary: "You find a camera full of pictures of you from every angle, clearly taken by a stalker left in your backpack. Your left in shock as you consider who possibly could have done this. Certainly it couldn't be Lottie Matthews who has the exact same backpack as you."

nsfw warning

A/N: stalker lottie takes photos of you idk how much clearer i could be lmao. gotta be honest i wrote the plot around the smut sooooo.

You'd noticed before that you and Lottie had the same backpack. It was never something you'd paid all that much attention to, beyond wondering why Lottie Matthews would carry a nondescript black Jansport, but you'd noticed it in passing. Needless to say, it wasn't all that surprising when people mixed up your bags; The two of you would share a smile and just laugh it off. 

That was until Misty had doubled back to the locker room during practice and noticed Lottie's camera had fallen out of her bag in her rush to get to the field. Misty, as helpful as ever, slipped it back into Lottie's bag and zipped it up on her way out. That would have been the end of the story, had that been Lottie's bag. 

You were in a rush to leave practice– having barely enough time to make the dentist appointment that your mom had ever so helpfully scheduled 20 minutes after practice on the other side of town– and didn't end up checking the contents of your bag until much later. 

You stared curiously at the camera as you pulled it out of your bag, never having seen it before. It looked expensive, you knew that much, and well cared for. You wanted to return the well-loved camera to its owner so you spent some time fiddling around with it until you found the saved pictures hoping to find a hint as to who it belonged to. You found some beautiful pictures, it was clear whoever this belonged to was an extremely talented photographer, but you didn't pay much attention to that. 

No, your attention was drawn to something very different indeed. You stare in shock at hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of yourself in various locations, and states of undress. You send a horrified look at your window, storming over to close the blinds immediately: that seemed to be a favorite location of your stalker. 

Who the fuck owned this camera? 

…

You were noticeably paranoid for a few days following your discovery. You’d carefully watch anyone whom you passed in the halls, looking for any hint of your mysterious stalker. Certainly, they’d have to notice that their camera was missing by now, right? You hadn’t seen anyone looking at you suspiciously, or staring for just a moment too long before they looked away. You’d believed that your stalker would end up exposing themselves in a moment of panic looking around for their camera, but whoever it is was careful not to react in front of you at the very least. The only truly suspicious thing you saw was the amount of yearning stares Shauna and Jackie exchanged when the other wasn’t looking, but that was par for the course. 

You even went as far as to stop by the school's art show, intending to find out who had any talent for photography at the very least. You had almost given up hope when you saw it: a blown-up version of a picture you knew was taken by your stalker. It was a beautiful shot, admittedly, and you’d spent a lot of time looking at it. It was nothing truly scandalous, just a shot of nature, but there was just something about it that made it utterly captivating. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, causing irritated members of the crowd to grumble as they moved around you. There was so much more detail in this blown-up version, you could almost hear the ripples in the water and the way the wind blew the leaves off the trees. You were so captivated that when someone placed a hand on your shoulder you nearly swung at them. You clear your throat awkwardly, sending Lottie an apologetic look as you turn to face her.

“Hi,” Lottie says shyly, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. You smile genuinely, always happy to see Lottie outside of practice.

“Hey, Yourself.” You greet fondly. You gesture vaguely around the room. “I didn’t know this was your type of thing.”

Lottie shrugs as she takes a quick look around the room, turning back to face you. “Kinda has to be,” She admits with a touch of amusement. “I’m a photographer. That’s my photo you’re looking at.”

Your eyes widen as you visibly fight off the anger. Lottie fucking Matthews was your stalker? Your teammate Lottie Matthews? Your blood was practically boiling at this point, but you fake a shocked look as you look back and forth between her and the photo.

“You’re really talented.” You admit honestly, choking back your rage. Lottie blushes as she looks over at her photo, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She seems to be incredibly pleased at the compliment but doesn’t quite know how to react to it. She must have gotten a lot of practice taking pictures of me, you think darkly. Never in a million years would you have suspected Lottie to be capable of such a thing, but you figured you could hide a lot of things behind a smile. Even one as undeniably charming as hers.

“Thanks.” She says softly, smiling widely down at you. She holds eye contact for a fraction of a second too long, seeming to realize her mistake as she glances back up around the room. “Do you want to look around with me?” She asks, looking a little unsure. You’ve already looked at every other piece here as you tried to nonchalantly work your way to the photography section, but you figured this would give you a chance to learn more about your stalker. 

You finally got to do some watching of your own, staring intently at her as you follow her around the art show. You take perverse pleasure in the way she fidgets uncomfortably under your watchful gaze. She keeps trying to sneak a peek at you when she thinks you're not looking, flushing every time as she pretends to look at something behind you. Lottie Matthews I almost feel bad for you, you think in amusement. You’ve never realized how obsessed with you she seemed to be, but it was undeniable in the way she couldn’t stand to keep her eyes off of you for any significant period of time.

You could work with this.

…

You’ve spent a significant amount of time watching Lottie at school lately. You’d feel bad about practically stalking the girl, but you figured it was fine since she never felt bad about literally stalking you. You weren’t sure if you had just grown paranoid with everything going on, but you swore you saw flashes of brown hair whip around a corner when you turned around suddenly. You never had more than a gut feeling, but you were almost positive that Lottie had resumed stalking you again. You wondered idly if it was different without her camera to photograph you with.

You’d lost a lot of your initial disgust the more you watched her. There was something intriguing about having someone like Lottie Matthews obsessed with you. You’ve been walking on cloud nine ever since; You’ve never felt less insecure in your entire life. You grew to enjoy how responsive she got to your attention, no matter how little you gave her. You smiled at her in the hallways a few times, and she’s since taken to trailing after you like a lost puppy. She paid such close attention to the smallest little comments you made– she even started bringing an extra jacket after you offhandedly mentioned you tended to forget yours. She claimed it was for her, of course, but you knew that she was desperately waiting for a chance to offer it to you.

You keep getting stuck on that thought. What does she get out of seeing you in the jacket? Is it just seeing you in her clothes, or is there something more perverse she’s looking for? You spent many a late night thinking about what she’d do with the jacket if you wore it. Still, you refused to give in to something she obviously wanted desperately. You couldn’t let her get off scot-free for stalking you, after all. Even if you’ve decided you were more into it than previously thought.

…

You're nearly jumping for joy as you slam the door of your car shut. You normally waste your Wednesday nights babysitting your cousin, but thankfully he was too sick for your aunt to leave him alone. Obviously, it wasn’t good that he was sick, but you found yourself happy enough to have the free time anyway. You eye the unfamiliar car parked across the street curiously, not expecting to have any visitors. No one was usually home at this time, your parents were out working and you were normally at your aunt's.

You're about to open the handle to your room when you suddenly become aware of the sound of something bumping against your creaky closet door. You’ve spent enough time living here to familiarize yourself with the noises of the house settling, so you knew for sure that someone was definitely in your room right now. You're filled with an intense fear, shaking terribly as you try to pull your phone out of your pocket to call the police. You pause suddenly as you hear a distinctly feminine moan coming out of your room. Your eyes narrow in anger. Lottie fucking Matthews.

You slam the door open, startling Lottie who pops up quickly out of your hamper. The first thing you notice is the look of immense guilt and fear on Lottie’s face as she stares back at you. Her big brown eyes are wide with terror with her mouth slightly open in shock. Her outfit is nice, a little too nice to be rummaging around in someone's hamper in all honesty. Leave it to Lottie to overdress for her creepy stalking activities. The last thing you notice is your underwear clenched firmly in her hand. She follows your eyes and guiltily worries her lip between her teeth as she realizes what you’ve seen.

“Give them here.” You say firmly. Lottie whimpers, actually whimpers, as she holds them out to you. You snatch them out of her hand, feigning a look of disgust as you look at her. She can’t even look you in the eyes, face going bright red as she stares down at her feet. You reach up to grab gently at her chin, jerking it up and forcing her to make eye contact with you.

“What were you going to do with these?” You ask sternly. 

Lottie sputters, actually speechless, as she tries to come up with something that couldn't possibly excuse her actions. “I think you were going to go home and touch yourself, pervert.” You say mockingly. Her face burns with the evidence of her shame, fruitlessly trying to lower her head again to avoid your forced eye contact. You drop her chin and she immediately zeroes in on a stain in your carpet as she tries to pretend she isn’t there.

“Look at me.” You say gently. Lottie slowly looks back up, looking lost and a little unsure. “Do you want them?” She eyes you wearily as if she’s wondering what kind of trick you're going to pull on her as she slowly nods. You hold them out towards her as they hang off of one finger. She raises a hand out to snatch them, but you yank them back before she can. She gives you a pathetic look as her eyes follow them even as her body can’t. You enjoyed your power over her even more knowing that she let you have it. Lottie Matthews was a big girl, and if she wanted to overpower you you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop her from taking them from you.

“I’ll give them to you, but you're going to show me what you’re going to do with them.” You offer smugly. Lottie's eyes go wide as she blushes scarlet.

“You… You want to watch me…” She trails off unsurely. You nod encouragingly for her to finish her sentence. “You want to watch me touch myself?” She asks quietly as if she can barely force the words out. 

Not quite so easy when you're the one being watched, is it? You think vindictively. You’re self-aware enough to admit to enjoying her humiliation as she looks back and forth between you and your underwear with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. She nods after a long moment, glancing around your room awkwardly. You slip your underwear into the back pocket of your jeans as you resist the urge to celebrate your victory too soon.

You step forward and lead her back to your bed, crawling up after her as she scoots up your bed. She sits unsurely in the middle as she looks up at you for guidance as you hover over her. You eye her outfit decisively for a moment before you lean forward and slowly unbutton her blouse. Her eyes are blown wide in disbelief as she intensely tracks your movement as your fingers nimbly expose her chest to the room. She whines quietly as your fingertips brush ever so slightly against her stomach as you untuck the bottom of it from her skirt, letting it fall uselessly against the bed beside her. 

You scrutinize the exposed skin closely, reveling in the way it makes her fidget uncomfortably. Your eyes inevitably get drawn up to her nipples and how they firmly poke their way through her bra. “Cold, Lottie?” You ask as just a hint of a smirk graces your lips. She pouts as you tease her, but doesn’t otherwise comment on it. She looks at you with a look of utter adoration, as if she couldn’t believe she got the chance to be teased by you. It was undeniably pathetic, and yet you found yourself growing hot at the thought regardless.

Lottie jumps slightly as your cold fingers slide down her sides, arching her back towards you as you reach behind her to unclasp her bra. You greedily take in the sight of her newly revealed breasts, barely resisting the urge to take one into your mouth. You pull her bra slowly down her arms, gently pressing your hand against her chest to push her into laying flat on the bed as you toss it off the edge.

You slide your hands up the outside of her legs slowly. Lottie’s hips jerk up against nothing as your fingers finally curl around the waistband of her panties. Lottie’s breath stutters as you slowly drag them back down her thighs, exposing her to your gaze once again. She curls her legs to help you get them off. You murmur praise at the action, carefully noting the way she worried her lip between her teeth as you did. Seems you found something else she enjoyed. You drop her panties off the side of the bed, not wanting them to get lost, as you take her in. You’ve kept the skirt on, enjoying the way she's just barely dressed as she’s spread out in front of you.

You spread Lottie’s legs as you shift up to kneel between them. You drag her down the bed slightly so that her hips rest on the bed near the front of your knees, her long legs forced to spread around your hips. She gasps at the action, eyes blown wide in arousal. “Well?” You ask expectantly. Lottie slowly moves her trembling hand to her stomach, inhaling sharply at the feeling of her own fingertips brushing against her. She presses her palm flat against her stomach, staring up at you to make sure you’re still watching, as she drags it up her torso teasingly slowly.

She moans softly as she cups her breast, squeezing none too gently as she moves her other hand up to mirror the touch. You watch the action intently, almost shocked by how rough she’s being with herself. She doesn’t immediately go for her nipples, carefully avoiding them even as she plays with the rest of her breasts, which gives you a sneaking suspicion that they must be pretty sensitive. Slowly, ever so slowly, does she finally slide her fingers up to start circling her nipples with her thumbs. She gasps at the touch as her eyes slam shut, confirming your suspicion of her sensitivity. 

You’re almost salivating as you gaze down at her. Her eyes flutter back open as she looks up at you, breathing heavily as she starts to get rougher under your constant supervision. She whines as she pinches her nipples between two fingers and tugs, back arching off the bed in response. You press your hand against her stomach, pressing her flat against the bed. She moans all the more at the pressure, almost struggling against you to avoid the pinch she’s given herself. She lets go as she reaches her limit, fingers gently circling her nipples again.

“Are you always this rough with yourself?” You ask curiously. She blushes shyly as she shakes her head, squeezing herself even rougher at the sound of your voice.

“I like to be rough when I’m imagining you touching me.” She admits breathily, head thrown back in the pillow as she enjoys her own stimulation. You gasp at the admission, not quite expecting that answer. She’s breathing so heavily she can hardly get the words out, completely overwhelmed with the entire situation.

“Am I always so rough with you?” You ask quietly, eyes fixating on how red her nipples are becoming. She shivers as she moans out a yes, chest quivering at the touch. Her rough touch is just making herself even more sensitive, seemingly becoming more and more painful the longer she goes on. Just like she imagines you’d like. You wonder how much time she spent imagining your touch, imagining what it would be like to lay under you. You hope she touched herself like this in her car as she sat outside your house all night watching you. The thought of her getting herself off like this while you were innocently sleeping inside is almost too much to bear.

“Tell me how what I'd do, Lottie.” You demand. She looks down at her hands on her breasts as she imagines they are yours. She stutters slightly as she tries to find the breath to answer.

“Fuck.” She breathes out, her heart racing against her chest. “You’d be gentle with me at first, making it so much better when you started getting rough when you realized how badly I wanted it.” She moans at the thought, getting distracted as she pinches her nipples between her fingers again. “You… Your fingers. They’re so big. So rough with me.” Her voice breaks a little as she gets lost in her imagination, her cheeks flushing at the thought.

“Tighter.” You instruct, the corners of your lips quirking up as she whines painfully at the pinch. You watch the tears prick the corners of her eyes. She’s so sensitive now that she can barely stand it, but she’s so desperate to please you. Every brush of her hands against her breasts leaves her twitching and moaning. “Such a good listener.” You praise gently. “You can let go now, Lottie.”

She sags back down against the bed, smiling weakly at the praise as she catches her breath. She gives you a questioning look when you shake your head as she starts to touch her breasts again. You reach into the back pocket of your jeans and pull out your underwear, making her eyes go wide as she watches them intently. You hold them out for her and she snatches them greedily, almost as if she couldn’t stop herself. She looks a little apologetic as she holds them, but quickly brings them up to her nose to breathe the scent of you in. Your eyes widen slightly at the action, not entirely sure of how you feel about that. Still, the effect they have on Lottie is undeniable.

Her face slackens as her entire body relaxes back against the bed. Her fingers curl in the fabric as she brings it down to her lips to lick them intently. You breathe out shakily at the signs of her obvious enjoyment. She almost seems to forget you were there for a minute as she goes to town on them, her legs trying to shut around you as she's desperate to get some friction. She whines as she finally drags her eyes away from them, eyes blown wide in arousal. “Show me. Show me what you’d do with them.” You remind her shakily, unable to take your eyes off of her.

She releases a muffled moan as she slides her hand down her stomach, bunching up her skirt around her hips so you can see her better. She inhales sharply when you place your hands on her knees, spreading herself for you as you lean closer. 

Lottie has strong thighs, the muscles clenched tight like they're begging to be touched. It takes everything you have to resist the urge to slap her hand away and do it yourself. “Can you see it?” She asks, nearly begging. “Can you see how much they've made me want you?” You give her a jerky nod, unable to tear your eyes away from her. She's so wet that it's dripping down her thighs. She's made a real mess of herself on your bed. You wonder what she tastes like, what she would feel like in your mouth. Your mouth waters as you imagine the way she'd twitch against your tongue, how she'd feel clenching around your fingers. 

“All for me, Lottie?” You murmur. She whimpers in agreement, nearly sighing in relief as her fingers finally make contact. You can hear how wet she is as she slides her palm down, thighs tensing as she grinds up against her hand as if she can't stop herself. She maintains eye contact with you as she slowly slides two fingers inside herself, whining greedily at the stretch. Her legs squeeze against you as she instinctively tries to close them, once again forcing her to remain spread open before you. 

She throws her head back with a loud moan as her hips chase her own thrusts. You can't bring yourself to even blink, not wanting to miss a second of watching her pleasure herself in front of you. She whimpers when she starts grinding up against her palm, too sensitive by far but unable to resist the urge. Her hips jump back but she powers through her own sensitivity, so desperate to show herself to you. 

She's got her other hand clutched around your underwear, periodically bringing it up to her nose as she writhes against her touch. You watch for a long while as she revels in her pleasure, her motions getting jerkier and jerkier the closer she gets. Finally, you decide to interrupt. 

“Is this what you do when you take your little pictures, perv?” You taunt, enjoying the look of shock as her eyes flew open. She looks at you guiltily, hand never stilling, as if she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Eager for the treat, but embarrassed at being caught red-handed. “Oh, Lottie. Did you think I didn't know?” She nods her head shamefacedly, unable to maintain eye contact with you. 

“I'm sorry,” Lottie murmurs shamefully, looking at a spot behind your head. You might believe her if it wasn't for her pleasured sighs and the way her fingers had sped up their motions as her legs started shaking against you. You knew it was turning her on to be caught like this. The humiliation only made her wetter. 

“Close your eyes, perv. I think you've seen enough.” You command gently. She whimpers at the name but obediently closes her eyes again. You watch to make sure she's going to keep her eyes closed tight as you reach for something you've kept hidden behind you. 

…

Lottie clutches her camera to her chest the entire ride home. She'd felt so lost without it and was so relieved to finally have it back, despite how surprised she was that you had given it back to her at all. She dove into her gallery the second she got home, hoping against hope that you hadn't deleted all of her pictures of you. She flushed slightly knowing she would have deserved it for how creepy she's been, but she just couldn't stop herself. 

She nearly drops the camera in her shock, whining at the sight that greeted her. She wondered when you'd managed to take those pictures of her without her noticing. How long were her eyes even closed? She wonders, taking in the view of her back arched as she ground up against her hand. Was this how you saw her? 

She grins as she puts her camera down, reaching for your underwear in her bag as the other sneaks back under the waistband of her skirt. She has a desperate hope that you'll consent to let her take more photos of you in the future, but for now, she'll have to make do with what she has. If you didn't consent… Well, there was always your window. 

[pumpkinbxtch]

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗰𝘃𝘀! ᯓᡣ𐭩

— leo valdez x f!reader

radiostar is playing… cvs by winnetka bowling league!

warnings: none a/n: based on a song that is one of my all-time favorites. This is because our Leo won the poll!

𝐋eo's hair fluttered in the wind as he urged Festus with kicks to go faster, all because he was running late, like really freaking late. The brunette bit his lip as he saw the time on the clock at the back of his bronze dragon's head, and sensing his owner's urgency, Festus let out a huff mixed with a metallic whine.

— She's gonna kill me — he exclaimed, and the mechanical beast growled, steering in an unexpected direction. Apparently, Festus wanted to stop, which Leo thought was the worst timing. — Buddy, not now!

Ignoring him, they ended up right in front of a CVS. What would the parking lot folks think? With any luck, they’d assume Leo had just hopped out of a monster truck, as the dragon's height was the only thing that might make sense to normal mortals.

— What? Is your paw hurting, man? This isn't even for you!

But that wasn't Festus's aim. Now, the dragon felt like the only intelligent being around, though there was no way to tell Leo, no time. He nudged him towards the automatic doors, hoping the son of Hephaestus would be smart enough to figure it out like he always did with Festus’s unspoken needs.

— But... — Leo started to turn around, and the dragon growled, puffing out a bit of hot smoke that made Leo close his eyes in resignation. All he got from that was something like, "Get going, man, hurry up!" So not knowing exactly what for, he went in anyway.

And, oh, god bless CVS.

Right at the entrance was a display with last-minute items. Leo grabbed a heart-shaped box of chocolates and some flowers and the boy ended up clutching them tightly to his chest as Festus managed the speed.

— Thanks, bro – ah! Slow down a bit, I want to get there alive!

Once again, the dragon ignored him, but at least Leo wasn't even later. He hopped off half a block away and walked with the gifts still pressed to his chest. His heart raced even more when he saw you sitting under a tree, reading with headphones on, noticing how you furrowed your brow from a distance.

— Oh, holy Hephaestus — Leo muttered a few meters from you, hiding the chocolates and flowers behind his back, trying to pull off a casual smile.

It wasn’t until his Converse shoes peeked out from under your book that you looked up. He was a mess, his hair all over the place, and you could tell he had taken the fast route, with leaves and trash stuck in his curly hair.

— Hey, babe — he said with a wide smile, trying to keep it casual. You shook your head with puffed cheeks, and he slumped his shoulders, knowing you were mad. But his despair didn't last long as he remembered his ace up his sleeve (or Festus’s paw).

Your boyfriend revealed the gifts and knelt to offer them as if they were the world’s greatest treasures. He had never done something like this, and it seemed fitting since you had just talked about something similar in front of the bronze dragon with a friend of yours. Of course, Festus had been in luggage mode at the time, so no one suspected anything.

— From me, to you, my sweet angel — Leo said with a radiant smile, his cheeks starting to blush. You smiled, took off your headphones, and accepted the gifts, smelled the roses and looked at the box of chocolates. Your boyfriend thought he was in the clear when you gave him a small kiss on the lips. But then, while stroking his hair and giving him another one on the cheek, you whispered in his ear.

— Tell Festus thanks, love. I forgive him. But not you.

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt. 2

I wasn't originally planning a part 2, but I actually had fun writing this. Let me know if you want a part 3!

(Do you prefer first or third person?)

Katsuki Bakugou forcefully pushes open the door to his apartment, the hinges groaning ominously under the strain. He steps into the dimly lit space, shedding his jacket with a careless toss onto a nearby chair. The absence of the usual scent of peppermint, a comforting presence in their shared home, hangs in the air like a foreboding omen. His eyes dart to the quirky cat-shaped clock on the wall, a whimsical addition insisted upon by his partner, now serving as a silent witness to the tension gripping the room.

"Hey, I'm home," Bakugou calls out, his voice echoing slightly in the silence. He walks further into the apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Bakugou's sharp eyes sweep the room, searching for any clues. The kitchen, usually a scene of chaos with scattered ingredients and hastily abandoned utensils, now appears unnervingly pristine. Its surfaces gleam under the soft glow of overhead lights, devoid of the usual signs of life. Bakugou's senses are on high alert; by this hour, his partner should be on their second or third cup of tea. Yet, as his hand hovers over the cold kettle, a chill seeps into his bones. There are no half-empty mugs of tea, no crumbs scattered haphazardly, no evidence of the comforting chaos he's grown accustomed to while living together.

Bakugou's slender fingers trace the edge of the table, his frown deepening with each passing moment. A plain container occupies the center, topped with his partner's favorite pair of chopsticks. Resting atop the lid is a small sticky note.

Make sure you eat something tonight. It’s your favorite.

His mind races, considering the possibilities with a sense of urgency. Could his partner have been called away unexpectedly? Did they forget to mention plans? He opens the food container, instantly recognizing the smell of a familiar noodle dish. The silence weighs heavily on him, each unanswered question adding to the mounting tension that coils like a serpent in the pit of his stomach.

"Hey Asshole." he calls out again, his voice now laced with worry.

As he enters the living room again, his eyes gravitate towards the front door, a furrow forms between his brows. His eyes squint as he tries his best to remember—something was next to that door when he left for work. It had been there for a week, and he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was just part of the clutter. Now, its absence stands out, a silent testament to something he had been too blind to see.

"Katsuki, you idiot," he mutters to himself, the realization dawning on him. He moves quickly towards the bedroom, pushing the door open.

Drawers are left half-open, a few hangers lie scattered on the bed, but most noticeably, the closet is missing a significant amount of clothing. The wind outside picks up, howling through the cracks in the window, as if the world itself is mourning with him.

Katsuki stands up, his legs unsteady, as he walks to the window. His crimson eyes stare out at the city, the lights flickering in the distance, each one representing a life, a story, a possibility. And yet, here he stands, the sole reason the love of his life abandoned him. It was always his fault. He was never good at letting people in, and the person he loves understood that better than anyone.

With a trembling hand, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. Opening it slowly, he reveals an engagement ring. The diamond catches the faint light, sparkling mockingly. He had been so absent, so secretive, because he was nervously preparing for this moment, afraid he would give it away too soon. All the times he had been distant, all the moments he had missed, were because he was working up the courage to propose.

"Why didn't I see it?" he whispers to himself. The answer is painfully clear now, but it is too late. They’re gone.

The apartment that once felt like home is now a haunting reminder of what he has lost, a cold, empty space that mirrors the void in his heart. The ring, meant to symbolize a future together, now feels like a cruel reminder of what could have been.

[yupstillaghost]

The Boogeyman

Vessel x fem reader

Summary: Vessel is a cryptid that is enthralled by his prey.

Warnings: tobacco use, attempted SA (not from Vessel), mentions of drugs and alcohol, blood/gore, making out. No use of Y/N

Tropes: instant attraction kinda?, he falls first, monster romance.

Author's Note: I could not stand the lack of monster romance Vessel fics out there, so i took matters into my own hands. If there are any grammar mistake i am sorry okay?

*photo credit goes to nickysrock on pintrest*

The Vessel is what they call him. A terrifying and menacing creature that desires the taste of human flesh. From a distance, he appears to be human, but if you get close enough to realize he is anything but human, you are already dead. The locals theorize that he wasn't always a murderous monster, but that he was once a mere mortal like everyone else.

They believe that he used to be a normal person until he started worshiping an ancient deity they call Sleep. The Vessel relinquished half of his soul to Sleep, and Sleep gave him half of his life force in return. But Sleep did not warn The Vessel of the changes he would experience with his newfound devotion. He did not warn him about the insatiable blood lust he would acquire upon receiving half of the deity's power.

Each life The Vessel takes is not only to sustain and nourish him, but it is also an offering to the other half of the deity living inside him. He is a lonely and miserable creature who longs for companionship but tears apart every person he comes across in a blind rage he has no control over.

It is said that The Vessel begged Sleep for the other half of his soul back, that he no longer wished to kill for him and that he wanted control over his own mind, body, and soul once more. But the deity refused. And now he is doomed to an eternity of solitude all because he was seeking a little faith.

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

The brisk autumn wind blows your hair back as you walk, reddening your cheeks from its cold kiss. The sound of the dead leaves crunching under your sneakers as your feet meet the earth with each step. Walks through the woods are one of your favorite things, even if people tell you to be cautious of them. You grew up in this town, and of course, you've heard of the cryptid that supposedly lurks in the shadows of this vary forest.

You don't believe in it, though. You think of it like The Boogeyman, just a made-up thing used to scare children into behaving. You smirk to yourself at the thought as you reach into your pocket to pull out your pack of cigarettes and lighter. It's a nasty habit you have yet to kick, though you tell yourself that you're still young and you have time to indulge a little longer in it.

You place the cigarette between your lips and light it, feeling the smoke burn the back of your throat as you inhale. It's a burn you've always liked, one that took your mind off your loud thoughts and made you forget just how lonely you are. You have always been an outsider in this town. You don't really have any close friends, and you find you don't really have anyone to confide in. You think to yourself that maybe you should just abandon everything and live in these woods. Maybe you will make friends with The Vessel that everyone talks about. If he doesn't eat you first.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. You then see three guys who look to be about your age smashing empty beer bottles on a nearby boulder. They laugh and egg each other on while stumbling over themselves, obviously drunk or high. One of them turns around and sees you watching them. The man flashes a sickening grin at you.

You can tell that whatever he is thinking isn't good and you aren't one for confrontation. You take the cigarette out of your mouth and stomp it into the dirt before attempting to turn and walk in another direction.

You hope he takes this as a clear sign that you don't want to talk. You have never seen these guys before, so you are almost certain they are from out of town. That being said, you don't know if these guys are friendly, but they certainly don't look it.

"Hey! What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in these woods?" You hear one of them shout to you. You freeze in place, panic starts to fill your insides. You don't have any way of defending yourself if things go south. No pepper spray, no fancy taser, you don't even know any martial arts. You were defenseless. You turn around slowly and spit out a nervous response.

"I'm just passing through, I'm on my way to my boyfriend's place," you tell him. Of course, you're lying. You don't have a boyfriend. You actually live alone in a shitty apartment a few minutes away, but they don't need to know that. You just need to get away from them unscathed, and you figured they would leave you alone if they knew someone was expecting you. The other guys turn around to look at you. The three of them then look at each other, and you can practically hear the gears in their heads turning.

"Sure you can't stay and have some fun?" One of them asks,"Maybe your boyfriend won't mind. " All three of them walk closer to you now. Creeping in on you like wolves to a small prey item. Your heart starts to race, already knowing what their intentions are and fearing for your life.

"N-no, i really need to get going." You choke out, trying to sidestep them. But before you can react, one of them pushes you to the ground and holds you down by your wrists. You attempt to scream, but one of the guys covers your mouth with his large hand, muffling any sound that comes from you.

"Don't fuss you bitch" the one holding you down spits. "We'll be quick with ya, then you can run home to your little boyfriend and tell him how we ruined you," he said through gritted teeth as he fights to keep you down while you thrash against his hold. It's no use. He's much stronger than you. The guy that isn't doing anything then crouches down and unzips your jacket with a hungry look in his eyes. You're breathing heavily and on the verge of tears as your heart pounds in your chest. You have never been so afraid.

Before the torture can commence, however, a guttural growling sound is heard by you and the men. The men stop and stare all around, looking for whoever, or whatever, that sound is coming from. You look to your right, and you see it. A figure of a very tall man in the moonlight. He looks exactly as eye witnesses have described him. He wears a long black cloak with his torso exposed, revealing his skin, which is the color of midnight. His hood is up and over his head, and his face is adorned with a white mask with a strange red symbol on the forehead. The mask has six eye holes to see through, and it leaves only his mouth exposed with red accents around the mouth area.

And his mouth, God his mouth, it's turned up in a sickening grin, barring his teeth like a rabid dog about to attack. He makes the growling sound again, and the men turn to him now, seeing what you see. All three of them stare at the figure, obvious fear etched into their faces. They all stand up slowly, removing their hands from you while you remain on the ground propped up on your elbows. You are too scared to move. These guys don't know who or what he is, but you do. It's The Vessel.

"H-hey man, we don't want any trouble. We were just messing around. " The man who was holding you down a second ago said shakily. All three of the men start to slowly back away from you. They must think The Vessel is angry with them after catching them attempting to assault you, but they don't know why he's really here. They don't know like you do that The Vessel is attracted to the scent of fear. It's you he is here for. Your fear attracted him, but now the three men are afraid too. The Vessel must choose who he wants to feast on first.

Without any warning, The Vessel runs at full speed towards the four of you, but not before letting out one of the most nasty snarls you have ever heard. One of the men panics and starts to run away, a fatal mistake. The Vessel lunges for him and tackles him to the ground. The man attempts to fight back, but it is futile since The Vessel is much stronger, especially in a state of blood lust. The Vessel grabs him by the back of the head and sinks his pointed teeth into his neck like a vampire. Instead of sucking his blood like a vampire would do, he takes a giant bite from his flesh and rips it off like he's biting into an apple.

The man's screams are unlike anything you've ever heard. It puts all the victim's screams you heard in slasher movies to shame. The sound of ripping flesh and animalistic chewing however, even worse. The two other men run in opposite directions, leaving you alone with the creature and their now dead friend. The Vessel lifts his head once he hears the rapid foot steps of the other two men. Blood is dripping from his chin and he wipes his mouth with his wrist in a oddly human way of thinking. Nobody knew if The Vessel was human or not, so to see him do that felt strange.

You take his distracted state as an opportunity to run away yourself. You quickly get to your feet and dart in the direction that is the opposite of where The Vessel is facing. You know running is probably a bad idea, but sitting there idly and waiting to be his next meal doesn't seem like a good idea either. You don't look back as you run. You run until you eventually decide to take shelter behind a tree. You did not hear his footsteps, so you hope he did not follow you. You peek behind the trunk of the tree cautiously and you don't see The Vessel anywhere. You let out a quiet sigh, relieved that you managed to get away unscathed.

You think you are safe until you hear the sound of heavy breathing and low grunting in your ear. You slowly turn your head forward and jump out of your skin at the sight of The Vessel right in front of you. You are practically nose to nose with him until you jump back, hitting your head on the tree trunk to get as far away from him as you can. Your back slides down the tree truck once you realize there is nowhere else for you to run. You are trapped.

The Vessel kneels down to your height and places his hand beside your head on the tree trunk. You stare into the eye holes of his mask as you tremble with fear. He takes a deep inhale through his nose, no doubt taking in the intoxicating scent of your fear, and gives that awful smile once again. He slowly leans forward and tilts his head to your neck, taking another deep inhale.

Your hands stay at your sides as your nails dig into the bark of the tree. He is so close to you now that you can smell him as he smells you. He has a metallic like scent due to the blood that was on his hands and forearms from the man he just mauled. He also smells like soil and pine, no doubt a scent he acquired from living in the woods. He is all alone out here, just like how you are all alone in this cruel world. You have no one who would miss you if this creature before you kills you right now.

The Vessel starts to slowly open up his maw, preparing to take a bite of your flesh like he did with that man. All you can think about in this moment is how long it would take someone to find your remains if there was any part of you left. You think about how you lead such a sad existence. You had no one who cared about you. You didn't make a name for yourself, and this is how you're going out? By the jaws of a creature that logical people don't believe exists? Pathetic. Sad. Waste of existence.

You start to cry, but you try to keep quiet so you don't encourage The Vessel to speed things up with killing you. You grit your teeth in an attempt to stay silent, but a slight sob escaped your lips anyway.

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

The Vessel halts his actions after hearing a sob come from you. He realizes then that he no longer smells fear on you. Instead, he smells... sadness. None of his offerings have ever smelt like that before. None of them have ever smelt... like him. He knows you can't smell emotions like he can, but he wonders if you can smell his sadness too, his loneliness, his pain.

The Vessel's hunger has subsided since you are no longer afraid. He closes his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you. Your eyes are screwed shut as you quietly sob with tear stained cheeks. His gaze softens upon seeing you this way. You're so venerable, but not in the way he likes, not in the way his deity likes. You're in pain and he doesn't like it. He wonders if he is the reason for your pain and that fills him with pain in return.

Your eyelids relax, and you slowly open them to see The Vessel staring at you with a frown. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion upon realizing you're still alive, and The Vessel is no longer making an attempt on your life. You stop crying, but that doesn't stop him from reaching up and wiping the tears from your cheek carefully. You gasp at the contract and almost pull away from his touch, but you are surprised to find that he is being extremely gentle.

"I am sorry, little one... so very sorry, " he whispers in a warm British accent. He removes his hand from your cheek, leaving behind a mixture of blood and dirt streaked there. You sniffle and wipe away the blood and dirt on your cheek using your jacket sleeve. You stare at the creature in awe, surprised that you just heard him speak. You try to find his eyes through the holes of his mask, but you can't find them. The Vessel is staring back at you, but he is taking a good long look at you for the very first time. You are beautiful, breathtaking even. He is entranced by you, and he can't remember the last time he had felt this way.

"You're not going to eat me?" You whisper back to him, getting the feeling that he is staring into your soul even though you can not see his eyes. "No," he replies softly. "If I did, i wouldn't forgive myself." You furrow your eyebrows again and let out a small chuckle. "But you were okay with eating that other guy?" You say louder now, letting the cryptid know that he is contradicting himself.

He lifts his hand and lightly brushes the hair out of your eyes with his long fingers, causing a jolt of electricity to run up your spine. "He wasn't you" he stated. You are confused as to what is happening at this moment. Why is this viscous creature being so soft and gentle with you all of a sudden? And why do you like it when he touches you? Are you really that touch starved?

"Were those men trying to hurt you?" He asks calmly, tilting his head slightly at his question. You give a small nod, not wanting to go into detail about what those men were going to do if he The Vessel hadn't shown up. He places his hand beside your head on the tree trunk again and digs his nails into it. "If I find the other two, I will kill them where they stand," he says through gritted teeth. Your eyes widen at his statement, and you can feel that his words weren't a threat, but a promise.

"But you're not going to kill me?" You reiterate, attempting to find his eyes yet again. You can't explain the feelings you are having during your conversation with The Vessel. You're puzzled at his actions and words, but you also feel... safe with him? You think to yourself that you should see a psychiatrist after this encounter. It can't be normal to be feeling this way for someone who was going to eat you a few minutes ago.

"How could I?" He says barely above a whisper as he leans into your neck again. "I have waited for you for so long... my Eden." He then places a chaste kiss to your neck right where he was initially going to bite into you. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you feel that jolt of electricity again. Did The Vessel just... kiss you? You know you should be disgusted, but you can't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it's because you are both lonely, both longing for companionship... someone to care for.

He lifts his head to look into your eyes again, the moonlight reflecting off his white mask and illuminating the lower half of his face, the only part that is visible. Your heart starts to race again but not from fear. This time, it's from anticipation. He starts to lean forward, his lips slightly parted. You place your hands on his collarbones to keep him from getting any closer to your face. Is he trying to kiss you on the lips? You let out a shaky breath at the thought, looking up and down his torso and noticing how toned he is. Are you attracted to The Vessel? There's no way... but you have this weird, swirly feeling in your stomach that won't go away.

"Do you have a name?" You ask him after what felt like an eternity of silence. He smiles, but it's not like the gruesome one you've seen before. It was a joyful one, not one of intimidation or eeriness. "Vessel" he responds. You let a small smirk show at the response. You find it ironic that his real name isn't far off from the nickname the locals have given him. "And may i know yours?" he asks in a almost flirtatious tone. You tell him your name and he hums in response. "Beautiful" he whispers.

Vessel holds your face with both hands, but not before wiping them on his black pants so he doesn't get you dirty again. "You are bewitching, my Eden" he breathes out as he slowly leans into you "absolutely stunning." As he gets closer to you, you no longer try to stop him. Instead, you allow your arms to wrap around his shoulders as a clear sign that you want him closer. The nose of his mask meets yours and you let out a shaky breath. He removes one hand from your face and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you even closer. You are now chest to chest and his lips are just ghosting over yours.

You look at him with half lidded eyes, practically begging him to close the distance between you. Vessel moves his hand that is cupping your cheek to hold your chin. You shouldn't want this. You should be running for your life from the cryptid in front of you, not on the verge of making out with him. But the pull that the two of you have toward each other however, it is undeniable. "May I kiss you?" Vessel asks, seemingly breathless despite the fact that your lips have not met yet. You nod without hesitation and within seconds, his lips are crashing into your.

You both sigh deeply through your noses, feeling instant relief from the tension in the air as your lips move in sync. Kissing him feels like climbing into a warm bed on a cold winters night. Or like drinking a tall glass of water after a long time of thirst. This feels right. He feels right. It no longer matters to you that he is a monster. The two of you fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle, you can feel it deep down and you know he feels it too.

He moves his other arm to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer till you are straddling his lap. You let out a small moan at the new position, moving your head to the side to deepen the kiss. He swipes his tongue on your bottom lip to ask for entrance. You gladly open your mouth slightly to allow his tongue in and he groans in delight. The kiss grows more and more hungry as time goes on and you start to wonder where it is going to lead.

The sound of branches being stepped on suddenly interrupts your make-out session. Vessel pushes you off his lap into the trunk with cat like reflexes. He places his hands on either side of your head on the tree trunk and looks around the forest growling with his teeth bared. You then realize he is protecting you from whatever is causing the noise and you were enthralled by it. You both then see a squirrel come into view and realize that was the perpetrator.

You breathe a sigh of relief and let out a small giggle. It's a bit comical to you that a predator like Vessel is easily startled by a small animal like a squirrel. But given the state of venerability you were both just in, it's understandable why he reacted the way he did. He directs his attention back to you and lowers his hands to your shoulders.

"You alright, my love?" He asks breathlessly. You let out a giggle at his question, "I'm fine. It was just a squirrel, silly " you tease. He smiles warmly and lets out his own little giggle, giving you butterflies instantly. He leans down and kisses your jawline and then your cheek. You place your hands on his biceps and rub your thumbs on them idly.

"Vessel, it's getting late. I have to get going" you tell him in a broken tone of voice. "Please stay" he whispers in your ear before kissing the shell of it. You want to stay. You don't want to leave him at all, but you know you have to. "I can't stay," you whisper back, unable to hide your disappointment. "But I will come back tomorrow, I promise." He looks into your eyes and you place both your hands on the sides of his mask. You stroke the intricate red designs with your thumbs and pull him forward to place a kiss on his forehead.

You release him and you both stand up. He takes your hands in his and plants kisses on your knuckles. "I will be waiting for your return, my Eden" Vessel says lovingly with his lips still pressed to your knuckles. You offer him a smile and begin to walk away, allowing your hands to slowly slide out of his. You turn your back to him and walk through the woods till you are out if sight.

You meant it when you said you would come back. In fact, you will be counting down the minutes till you're reunited. And you know he will be too.

[partycatty]

kenshi takahashi > we should know better

warnings: smut :3 sneaky link type shit, possible ooc kenshi bc i know he's reserved but i couldn't get this idea out of my head

notes: i need him so BAYD. hot take, kenshi's hotter than johnny but johnny has a more appealing personality LOL

[ masterlist ]

• kenshi knew better, he knew so much better than to indulge in the sweet little vice you were.

• he was quiet, you were quieter. kung lao and raiden had each other and fengjian, johnny had his fans, and kenshi had a corrupt family ensnared in dangerous practices. for the most part, he was on his own... and for the first time in a long time, there was someone who knew what that was like.

• kenshi expected to think low of the other chosen earthrealmers, not too worried about the competition given his skills and history. but you... you had some bite to you, and kenshi would often find himself aching to the thought of your strength and resilience.

• with a trained ear and shielded eyes courtesy of his forearm, kenshi would slowly pump at his cock in the late hours, drool collecting in his mouth at the thought of you milking him or all he's worth with your soft, plump lips.

• that, or stretching your needy cunt so wide and slapping the tears away from your plush, rosy cheeks. low grunts slipped from his throat as he painted his palm, pathetically wishing to fill you with his cum and thrust it back into your pussy.

• nothing ever undid him like you before, had him so winded by the curves of your body that he'd start to fall behind on training or arrive at odd times from the loss of sleep. upon confrontation, he'd give a gruff rumble about sleeping in or any other pathetic excuse he could muster up with the stoicism he had left.

• just who the hell did you think you were? you had no right to distract kenshi the way you do, but it's not even like you're trying. he wants, no, needs to feel you, maybe then he'll be satiated and clear-headed.

• the day came where you hinted at your shared desires, throwing a flirty comment his way when you were out of earshot from the others. one knowing glance and the sway of your hips was all it took to have kenshi stand in your doorway, tongue heavy in his mouth as he awaits plunging it into your core. he can't find the words to express it, so he instead stands there and hopes you understand the shared intentions.

• you're at each other like animals, clawing away the orange robes and kissing so harshly your lips are properly wet when you pull away for air.

• as much as kenshi wants to take his time, his cock practically aches so hard it hurts in his pants, and grinding it against you isn't getting him where he needs to be.

• he's shy about his carnal desire, too afraid to make eye contact so he puts his palm pressing into your back to force an arch, sometimes even holding your head onto the sheets as he drills into you from behind. the way your ass bounces against his hips leaves him nearly cross-eyed, pleasing him beyond what he could do to himself.

• these become common occurrences, kenshi lumbering in your doorway with a heavy look about him. odd hours of the night became your favorite because you knew it was another night of so many orgasms you'd tunnel vision.

• you're absolutely addictive, making his jaw clench and arms cross tight against his body when he side-eyes you during training. if one of the boys even thinks about drawing your private attention, you're swept off into the gardens where you'll be fucked to tears, pussy molded perfectly to his cock and his cock only.

• it was the only time he'd ever call you his. he wouldn't be physically affectionate, not much anyway. he'd sleep through the night but disappear before morning, whether to avoid suspicion or avoid confrontation you couldn't decipher.

• as good as the dick was, you didn't want a situationship, you wanted more. kenshi was nearly impossible to read at times, scowling your way as if he wasn't tongue-fucking you the night prior. you want to ask him what his deal is, what you two are, but his presence is quite intimidating otherwise.

• liu kang speaks of the tournament, the thing that brought everyone here in the first place. as you exchange glances with the boys, you finally land on kenshi, brows knitted in concern. what was to come of you two ate away at you, and there was an underlying fear that once the tournament was over, you'd return home and he'd go back to japan. the so-called meaningless sex would claw away at you forever as you'd dream about what could've been.

• your mouth feels sewn shut, as much as you want to ask all the questions burning away at you, but kenshi just stares ahead, expression never faltering.

• he couldn't look at you, he couldn't bring himself to face the idea of losing you... but he didn't quite know how to escape the situation he built. would you even accept him for who he really is beyond the sex? was it really meaningless? kenshi wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.

[theoncomingchaos]

Episode 11 vs. the Original Novel

The time line has gotten a little jumbled here, but key dialogue and moments are mostly the same.

Biggest Differences:

Huai'en gets the flower from Yuzhan's base first WITHOUT saving Xiao Yu. She is very clever in the book, so she puts a knot on the box that Xiaobao recognizes as hers. So, when Huai'en asks what he has to do for forgiveness, Xiaobao tells him to rescue Xiao Yu.

This also means that Xiaobao is healed BEFORE Xiao Yu is saved.

In the book, Huai'en breaks his mother's pendant in half so they each have a piece.

The battle was MUCH more brutal in the books. Huai'en faces off against all his old teachers (that crew following Yuzhan around) They are all masters and have this crazy formation they can do and they nearly kill him. Even when Prince Shen and others arrive, as he is escaping he still gets shot in the back with arrows, but he continues to cover Xiao Yu so she doesn't get hurt. Their horse also goes down. (They get another one). But it really showed just how far Huai'en was willing to go to try and earn Xiaobao's forgiveness.

Homophobia: The book doesn't have homophobia really. In fact, Xiaobao explains that a few years ago it was a big fad for people to have male lovers. Xiaobao wasn't really into it at the time, but he did try it because his friends kept pushing. He never fell for a man until Huai'en. So, while the homophobic comment is weird, Su Yin, DOES think that getting married and having children (which is what his best friend had always wanted) is still the best way for him to live a happy life. He still sees Huai'en as someone who can't be trusted and will just hurt Xiaobao again, so he is doing all of this to protect him.

In the book they make it very clear early on that Master and Madame Jin, as well as Xiao Yu herself, want Xiaobao to marry Xiao Yu. Xiaobao is NOT interested and only sees her as a sister. Su Yin, being close with the family and knowing how much they love each other, thinks this is a better future for him than being with Huai'en.

Xiao Yu does NOT forgive her adopted parents right away, but there is a feeling of one day she'll try to reconnect with them. So, having some note from the mother for her and having her wanting to go home to them is pretty different.

Si Ming & Jin Bao have no past together in the book, so this was MUCH better. I'm also really happy they included my favorite line about not touching other people before touching Si Ming.

Overall, I think not having Xiaobao ask Huai'en to rescue her makes it seem more like he is being caring and selfless on his own which is better character growth.

As for Su Yin, I stand with my cancelled wife.

We REALLY missed out on the banter between Huai'en and Xiao Yu. It is so good (unhinged):

With the wind whistling past her ears, Xiaoyu shouted, "If you can't hold on until I see my brother again, you're worthless."

Gritting his teeth, Huai En replied, "If I don't see him, you'll never see him again in your life."

"If my brother knew you killed me, even if you died, he wouldn't forgive you."

"I won't give him the chance to know if I kill you. He'll never find out."

[heavens-moonlight]

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟴 : 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘, 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘, 𝗪𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘

𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

Author’s Note: Another chapter to start the week off with! The next one is my favorite and I can't wait to share it! Happy reading and see you all in the coming update ♡

The world outside was a blur of gray, skies heavy with the weight of an incoming storm, the streets shimmering beneath the water's sheen.

Rain pitter patters against the glass doors of the school entrance, and you watch as the drops roll down, playing a game with yourself to see which one would reach the bottom first.

Your eyes trace the path of a single droplet, racing its way to the base. It moved quickly, like it knew where it was going, journey already determined.

For a fleeting moment, you felt connected to it—a small thing carried by forces it could neither understand nor control.

You let your gaze drift to another droplet beside the previous. This one, however, moved at leisure. It was slower, like it could afford all the time in the world to figure about where it was going, and you wonder if it would join with one of the other drops or keep going, continuing forward at its own pace, all alone.

Pressing your fingertip to the cold surface, you draw along with the trail that the raindrop streaks, following its non-linear descent as it winds its way downward, seemingly struggling against gravity.

The drop splits into two at a particular curve and you ponder at the ease of separation.

Finger hovering, you lean forward, trying to decide which of the two to follow as they slither in opposite directions.

On the left, it is longer, winding and hesitant. The right one was a quick drop, straight and definite. Blinking, you feel a strange pull to the left, toward what is less clear.

Subconsciously, the leftmost one lingers in your mind, and in that inadvertent choice, it winds up reaching the end of the glass paneling first.

The rain only seemed to grow heavier, tapping a staccato rhythm, the sound somehow both soft and insistent, like the murmur of a secret.

With your forehead against the cool glass, you stare at the droplets as they gather and scatter, running into one another before pulling apart, reforming only to separate again.

How easy it is for things to slip away, unnoticed.

How easy it is for one moment to disperse into a hundred different ones with barely any interference or effort.

The spectacle in front of you fogs up with every breath but you cease to move.

You didn't quite know what you were anticipating, but it felt like waiting for something that wasn't going to show up—for something that wasn't going to stay forever.

Maybe the thought laid in the melancholy of the rain or the anemoia of the atmosphere.

Maybe it was because of the rain drops themselves, so fragile, so temporary.

Maybe it was premonition.

A sudden gust of wind rattles the door behind you, and you instinctively turn to the sound,

"Seol-Hwa?"

You recognize the familiar voice as Jun-Hee walks toward you. Although you haven't known him for long at the moment, he was still one of your cousin's closest friends, and you wanted to get to know him better.

"Oh! Jun-Hee! What are you still doing here?"

"I had a student council meeting," he tells you as he stands across from you, tilting his head. "But what about you?"

"Waiting for Hyun-Ho." You roll your eyes, but it's more fond than anything. "He doesn't want me walking home alone but he's always late staying after for extra practice."

Jun-Hee chuckles lightly at the expression on your face.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

He tries to suppress his smile but fails.

You cross your arms across your chest and stick a foot out, tapping it against the floor, lips pressed together.

"Is my misery funny to you?" you tease.

He puts both hands up and shakes them in a show of refute. "That's not it."

"Then, what is it?"

"Cute."

"Huh...?"

"You're cute when you get angry—or at least try to. It's like watching an upset kitten."

The expressions on your face grow ever more animated by the second but his brown eyes are warm, remaining unchanged, with that half-smile he always seemed to give you when he catches you off guard—the same half-smile that had always made you feel both seen and invisible all at once.

"I-I'm not cute!"

Jun-Hee looks to the side, trying to hold back his laughter as your face heats up, a pink hue dusting the tops of your cheeks.

"Opinions are allowed, you know?" he continues to poke fun at you.

"Alright that's enough of that sir, time for you to go home."

You grab his arm and tug him toward the door as he chuckles, letting you drag him along easily, only stopping as a strong breeze blows a gust of wind between the slight opening between the cracks in the door, sending you shivering.

Jun-Hee pulls out a folded umbrella and takes your hand resting by your side, putting it against your palm to fold your fingers around it. "Knowing Hyun-Ho, he won't have one on him, but he's strong enough to fight off anything, so I'm not worried about him getting sick on the way home." He tilts the umbrella toward you, a subtle offering. "But I am worried about you."

As hard as you try to tamper down the fluttering in your stomach, your heart refuses to still, stuttering unsteadily like the rain dripping down the window—slipping, wavering, falling.

You look up at him in shock. "What about you then?"

He smiles down at you, pointing a finger up the road. "I live only a few blocks from here, I'll be fine."

"But—"

He ruffles your hair as he dashes outside, backpack raised atop his head, a makeshift cover. Jun-Hee turns back around and waves, shouting over the pouring rain, "See you tomorrow, Seol-Hwa!"

Despite the touching gesture, you felt an odd tightening in your chest as water from the sky continues its descent, gradually hazing his image in your sight as if this was more than just a simple parting—as if you had already seen the split that was coming, not knowing in which ways your paths will diverge, akin to the falling raindrops.

"See you tomorrow, Jun-Hee."

Will I ever get to see you again?

You've protected me time and time again, yet why is it that I can't protect you—not even once?

The events of last night come surging back and you nearly crawl in your haste toward the door, barely registering your friends around you.

"Seol-Hwa!" comes Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won's worried voices behind you as you throw the door open but you don't bother to slow your pace, seeing Hyun-Ho stopping the two with an outstretched hand in your peripheral vision.

"Leave her be."

You wipe your streaming tears with the back of your hand as you run aimlessly, no clue as to which direction led to the pool from your starting point, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that you can get to Jun-Hee.

The hallways are a blur—whispers of your thoughts swirling like smoke and the hum of the glaringly bright fluorescent lights overhead, but all you can hear is your heartbeat, thudding, rapid, and disjointed, still echoing in your ears.

You couldn't wrap her head around it. There had been screams, a splash, then silence.

The pool.

The water.

Where was he now?

You stumble forward, steps sluggish and eyes unfocused.

He's waiting for me—just as he always has.

As tears blur your vision, you're forced to look down at your feet, one tripping over the other, all sense of balance off kilter.

Paying no mind, you run straight into someone's chest. Only then do you pause, breathing raggedly, swaying on your own two feet. Hands come up to firmly grip at your upper arms as they steady you, holding on, trying to tether you to the present.

The first words that come out of your mouth make no sense, but it's all that your heart knows—the one person who would always be there for you. "Jun-Hee...?"

"He's not here anymore."

Why must you be reminded?

This isn't the reality you wanted to wake up to.

You finally look up, a single teardrop falling from your left eye. "Yes he is," you whisper weakly. Blinking, you try to refocus, but your vision swims, heart pounding harder like you can still feel his presence. "He's waiting for me," you mumble, eyes glazed as you inch backward, mind half-drowned.

Kyung-Jun's lips tightened. He was used to being hated, avoided, and feared, but being ignored is unfamiliar. There was something about the vacant look in your eyes, the way you were moving soullessly, that made him pause.

It gnawed at him.

He wasn't used to people walking past him like he didn't exist.

He wasn't used to you walking past him like he didn't exist, in search of the ghost of someone else.

"Jun-Hee's dead!"

Kyung-Jun's sharp voice does nothing to snap you out of your trance, but it hurts all the same. "No...no..." you start repeating, shaking your head. "No!" Attempting to remove yourself out of his grip is futile, even as you squirm with all your might, fighting against both his hold and words.

"He's gone! Why can't you accept it?"

"I don't want to."

It shouldn't be this easy to read Kyung-Jun, but it is anyway. Although his words are harsh, his eyes are flitting back and forth between your own, the crease between his eyebrows betraying his veiled concern.

"You need to. Once you see it, you'll have to."

"Even if I see it, I still won't. I never will."

"You can't live in that fantasy forever," he reminds, his face so close to yours now, his breath harsh against your skin. "He's not coming back. Not today. Not ever."

"Then, I'll go to him. Today...or forever." Your eyes search his face, unfocused, like you were seeing past him and not through him.

Kyung-Jun's eyes flicker, and for a brief second, something close to regret flashes through. He wants to say more, to make you understand, but the tightness in his chest— the way his pulse races with frustration— keeps him from speaking.

You didn't get it.

You wouldn't get it.

With the last ounce of strength in your trembling hands, you finally manage to push his away, although with your current state, the harsh intent falls short, and Kyung-Jun pretends as though it doesn't, letting you cast him aside.

He releases you, hands falling to his sides in what he tries to convince to himself is disgust.

You don't move at first, eyes still locked somewhere in the middle distance, but the moment you step away, your head spins and you tumble.

Kyung-Jun reflexively shoots an arm out, fingers moving toward your wrist to steady you, but in your desperation, you pull your arm away with a sharp and instinctual yank, the contrasting movements sending your bracelet flying, ultimately landing on the floor.

You stare lifelessly as the red threads unravel, frayed ends splintering off in different directions.

Without saying another word, you kneel down to pick it up, cradling it in your cupped hands, the weight of the hanging jade stone much heavier than it did last night.

"Why are you like this?" Kyung-Jun probes lightly, much softer than the tone with which he spoke earlier. "You're still alive."

You don't notice.

You never noticed how close he was, how his words dripped with something more than anger.

Kyung-Jun's chest tightens as he watches your fingers graze the string, trembling as they curl around the delicate woven strands.

His throat clenches.

His whole body was on fire with something he couldn't comprehend.

The emptiness inside him was suddenly too much. Too raw.

Getting back on your feet, you tuck the bracelet into your skirt pocket and fix him with a stare devoid of any emotions.

Shaking your head, you get the last word in, to a flash of pain and hurt reflecting in Kyung-Jun's eyes. "I died last night...and you were the killer."

And then—without another word—you turn on your heel to walk away, leaving him standing in the hall, torn between wanting to stop trying and wanting to follow.

But, Kyung-Jun doesn't move.

And you don't look back.

You stand frozen outside the glass doors, breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The sun had just begun to climb over the horizon, casting pale, pink light across the pool, reflecting off the water's surface, still and peaceful.

But it didn't feel peaceful. It felt wrong.

Everything felt wrong.

Your hands shake as they hover just inches from the door handle but you can't bring yourself to touch it, knowing you'd rather face anything than the aftermath that awaits you on the other side.

You couldn't go inside.

Not yet.

You weren't ready.

Your mind is a whirl of frantic thoughts, none of them making sense, all of them circling around the same unbearable truth that everyone else except you seemed to be able to fully grasp even though it had been there all night—growing darker and heavier with every passing hour.

He was gone.

The truth hits you again, stinging as if you had only realized it for the first time.

You had tried to deny it last night and even this morning, even if avoiding the acknowledgment made your feet feel like lead and your stomach twist in a way that bordered on the brink of collapsing.

There is nothing else but the sound of water lapping gently against the tiles, yet the silence had screamed at you. It still screams at you.

He's gone.

You thought—no, hoped—that maybe you'd wake up and find everything to be just nightmare.

But it wasn't a dream. It was real. Too real.

You close your eyes and bite your lip, trying to stop the onslaught of tears accumulating at the corner of your eyes.

You couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not in a way that you couldn't fix.

Drawing all of your strength, you pull the doors open with a soft whoosh as bright light slants across against your face from the ceiling high windows, a complete contrast to the darkness that enveloped the space last night.

When you finally step forward, your feet drag as if they weigh a thousand pounds and the lump in your throat refuses to disappear.

The sunlight had risen fully now, turning the water into a glittering, sharp expanse that makes your eyes sting.

The strong smell of chlorine permeates around you, sharp and unmistakeable, cutting through the morning air. The chlorine didn't mask anything; it just laid over it, as if to hide a truth too ugly to bear, as though it sought to try and erase something that couldn't be cleaned. It felt heavier and thick—suffocating.

For some reason, you can only imagine the lingering metallic scent of blood.

Before you can so much as take a few steps forward, you can already spot Jun-Hee's lifeless body floating atop the water's surface, splayed out face up in its midst.

You stop short, breath hitching in your chest, sharp and jagged as if someone had taken the sharpest point of a blade, flaying your heart layer by layer.

He wasn't supposed to be like this.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

He wasn't supposed to be dead.

Your legs tremble as you take a hesitant step toward the pool, then another, and another, neither able to stop nor turn away.

It isn't until you're almost at the edge that your knees buckle, and you have to catch herself against the metal railing, vision blurring. Passingly, you wonder if you were going to faint.

But then you see it: the pool ladder, the way the water swirled around it in small, gentle ripples, the way his hair spreads out, black and damp against the smooth surface of the water, the way his eyes—his once warm eyes—stared up at nothing.

Your stomach churns.

Bile rises in your throat and you clasp a hand to your mouth, in denial—in grief.

You don't know how long you stand there before finally being able to move again.

Only when you jump into the shallow pool, wading your way toward him that your defense mechanism of denial fails, your breath caught in your throat as though you too had drowned, the water rippling in waves between the two of you.

The sound of water splashing echoes in the empty space, devoid of anyone else aside from you and Jun-Hee.

You belatedly wonder if the tears you've shed could fill this entire pool, so that he could float in the oceans of your affections rather than sink in the cold waves of betrayal.

Although your wet clothes continue to weigh you down, you push through it and manage to pull him up and over the poolside edge, leaning his back against the wall as you sit beside him.

His body goes limp and his head falls onto your shoulder, making the water droplets from your hair trickle down, splashing onto the pendant of his bracelet.

He's still wearing it.

You reach out your hand, warm fingers touching his cold ones and hold on tight, almost as if it was possible to will him back to life.

"Jun-Hee, I'm so sorry," you whisper to the air. "Hearing is the last sense to disappear when someone passes, and I know it may be futile, much too late, now to say what I've kept in my heart all this time, but I want you to know that you meant the world to me�� you always will mean the world to me. I should've told you when I had the chance that I—"

You never knew. You never knew how I watched you, how every word you spoke made the world lighter and my days brighter. How your smile made me believe in things I didn't understand. You never knew how I felt...because I never told you.

It is in the silence of it—the answerless answer—that crushes you. It is as though you were existing in a hollowed-out shell of yourself where everything you'd held back was caged, imprisoned in the silence of the words you never uttered.

I should've told you, I could've told you, and maybe you might've...

But now there was no might-have, no more could-haves or should-haves. Only the what-if's lingering in the space between, growing wider by the minute.

A second chance can't exist when you never dared to pursue the first.

Love is the most innocent weapon, yet regret is far too bitter of a remedy.

[ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ɴᴏᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟ. ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴡᴀs ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟ, ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. ]

Your eyes waver and you feel goosebumps rise all over your skin, in disbelief at the odds.

Beside you, Jun-Hee starts coughing and spluttering out water. His lips and skin are still far too pale, but the moment his eyes lock on yours, back to their deep chocolate brown rather than the opaque white of last night, he musters up all his strength to smile faintly at you and your entire world stops.

Without wasting another second, you fling your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, afraid that if you don't hold onto him, he'll disappear once again—this time, forever.

As you cry uncontrollably into his shoulder, he wraps one arm securely around your waist to hug you even closer until there's no semblance of space between the two of you and the other winds it's way to your hair at the nape of your neck, pressing the side of your face against his.

You're so close that you can feel his heartbeat against your own chest. "You don't know how scared and how hurt I was, but none of that matters now. You really came back."

You pull back slightly to look at him but he only draws you right back into his arms, breathing out a sigh of relief. "I promised, didn't I? That if I had to leave, I would always come back to you."

"I forbid you from ever doing that again. Rather than promising you'll come back, just stay here with me. That's all I ask for."

"Alright," Jun-Hee whispers on an exhale. "No more making promises neither of us can keep."

You nestle deeper into his shoulder as his hand runs up and down your hair, comforting you when you should be the one comforting him. "I won't forgive you if you put me before yourself again."

Jun-Hee chuckles softly as you feel him nod against your head. "Is that all you're going to tell me? What were you saying earlier about a chance to let me know something?"

"I—"

[ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, sʜɪɴ sᴇᴜɴɢ-ʙɪɴ, ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ, ᴡᴀs ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ, sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs.]

You sit back at the announcement and Jun-Hee drops the subject as the two of you remain in stunned silence, the cruel reality once again dawning.

He runs his fingers over your bare wrist, and you finally look down to see his downcast expression at the missing bracelet.

You withdraw it from your skirt pocket and hand it over to him.

"Will you put it on for me, again? It fell off."

His eyes widen in realization. "So that means—"

"My wish came true, yes."

Jun-Hee delicately ties the red strings around your wrist and you look at the strands, now once again side by side.

"Can I ask what it was?"

"For you to come back to me."

He turns to you, looking upon you with all the fondness in the world.

"You spent a wish on me?"

His fingers reach out to lace against your own, and this time, it's nothing but filled with warmth and life.

"That price was still far too little for what you gave up for me."

Jun-Hee caresses the side of your face with his free hand, eyes staring straight at yours.

You hold your breath when he leans in, but as you close your eyes, he places a soft kiss on your forehead instead, squeezing your hand still in his, the press of his lips still lingering on your skin.

"You'll always be worth it and more, Han Seol-Hwa."

After a piercing scream erupts nearby, you and Jun-Hee dash toward the source, following the sound all the way to the cafeteria where Eun-Chan and Na-Hee are sprawled on the floor in shock while Eun-Ha, Yeon-Woo, and Mi-Na shield their eyes by the farthest corner possible, Seung-Bin's body a bloody pulp laying in the middle of the floor.

Deep gashes mar every inch of his stomach, skin mangled and covered in blood. If you looked close enough, parts of his intestine and abdominal organs were visible just below the surface.

As you survey the scene, the rest of your friend group come running in, looks of relief upon their faces at seeing you and Jun-Hee.

The silence is immediately broken as Jin-Ha stumbles in from the direction of the bathrooms, shirtless and bumbling as if he's seen a ghost.

"Yah..." Yeon-Woo utters. "Did you...kill him?"

Jin-Ha immediately goes on the defensive, shaking his head every which way. "It's not what it looks like!" Despite his insistence, his reactions and behavior make him appear to be far guiltier than he claims. You can't tell if it's sweat or tears rolling down his face but he wipes at it in haste, eliminating all traces. "When I woke up this morning, that's how I found him," his voice cracking at the end. "It wasn't me." As everyone looks from him to Seung-Bin's corpse and back again, he emphasizes hurriedly, "Guys, it really wasn't me."

Putting the growing suspicion aside for the moment, you kneel down beside the body, deftly braiding your long hair to keep it out of the way.

Next to you, Yoon-Seo has her phone at the ready to take pictures of the surrounding shoe prints, imprinted on the floor in blood.

"You two have got to be kidding me," Jung-Won intones from behind, though you pay her no mind.

As Da-Bum brings in a long white sheet to cover up the gruesome scene, you signal for him to wait, extending your hand towards the wounds, pulling the skin back to investigate.

When more blood gushes out of the opening, Yoon-Seo has to clamp a hand over her mouth, getting up to walk over to a trash can, dry heaving.

With your parents having been surgeons, it allowed you to watch more live surgeries than you can count, and you knew your way around the human body fairly well, particularly fatal landmarks.

Jun-Hee hauls you up and away as you sit there staring, trying to connect the dots, preventing the others from clearing the body.

"The three of them were inseparable," Yeon- Woo whispers, referring to Kyung-Jun's group.

"Talk about some loyal friends..." Eun- Chan admonishes, clucking his tongue.

"Between life and death, loyalty is no priority to them," Eun-Ha says openly and the statement hangs heavily in the air, everyone far too privy to the weight it holds.

Jung-Won sighs. "We should go. The smell of blood is sickening."

"Not yet," you refute. Turning to the group, you tell them what you found. "There are multiple stab wounds littered across his body, all inflicted at a particular site. The length and depth of it can be estimated to be by a knife."

"Stop talking about this," Jung-Won cuts in tiredly. "I don't think anyone wants to know the gory details."

You turn to her. "It may be scary to hear, but aren't we all wondering why someone would take things this far? There are far less cruel methods if the Mafia wanted someone to die overnight just so they can add on to their kill count, no?"

"Maybe the Mafia members are just that cruel," Jung-Won deadpans.

"But this..." you pause, eyeing the puddles of bloodstains still on the floor, "...This is way too morbid."

"What do you mean?" Yoon-Seo asks quietly, scrolling through the evidence she was able to gather.

"From what I saw, it looked like Seung-Bin was stabbed even after he had already died. There were wounds far fresher than others, as well as far deeper. To attack his internal organs in such a manner and especially in the stomach where you can quickly die of hemorrhage, the intent to kill extends beyond the reasoning for this game."

"You don't think—" Hyun-Ho starts.

You nod your head sadly. "Yes. In this case, whoever was involved wanted revenge, not simply for him to die. Up until this point, no one's death has been this gruesome or out in the open."

"I can't take this anymore," Mi-Na mutters. "Maybe we should all leave this for now and see what else we can find."

Your huge group ends up in agreement and exit forlornly, ultimately ending up in the annex where the other half of your classmates are crowded around a wall with what appears to be writing on it.

From the Police: Jun-Hee is a Citizen.

"Is this your doing?" Da-Bum turns to Jun- Hee, questioning.

"How can it be? Have you forgotten where I was last night? It's impossible."

Da-Bum shies away in embarrassment as Eun-Chan speaks up, "Did the Police actually write this?"

"Maybe they're finally putting their skill to good use," Eun-Ha suggests before rounding her immediate friend group to go back to their rooms.

"It wasn't here yesterday, right?" Dong- Hyun inquires as he surveys the handwriting.

"No, I don't remember seeing it," Hyun-Ho answers. "If I did, I don't think I would forget to bring it up."

You squint your eyes at the odd shade of the writing, a burnt orange color you've yet to see in typical markers.

On instinct, you reach a hand toward the font and swipe at it with your forefinger, drawing it toward your nose.

Providine.

The silence is defeaning as you all gather in the classroom where the discussion the night of Woo-Ram's elimination took place.

It feels like deja vu: the unending sense of unease, the suspicions leading to betrayals, and the unyielding curse of false accusations.

You sit beside Jun-Hee atop a table as he addresses the group. "I had no choice but to lie yesterday. I'm a Citizen. I don't know who the Doctor who saved me was but I wanted to give a word of thanks."

When you look up, you catch Yu-Jun's eye at the far corner of the room and hope that it's able to convey the enormous gratitude you felt toward him. He wasn't obligated to use it for Jun-Hee, or for your sake for that matter, but it means more than he could ever know.

Kyung-Jun leans forward in his chair and sends Jun-Hee a dirty look. "Living is one thing, but your identity in this game is a separate matter. Just because you came back to life doesn't clear you of suspicion."

"Right," Mi-Na chimes in, and you outwardly roll your eyes. She always bandwagons, going along with whatever someone else tells her rather than come to her own decisions or simply even having her own thoughts. "How come his identity wasn't revealed yesterday? Usually it's customary when they die."

"He wasn't out of the game completely given the resurrection, so why would it be announced?" You turn to Mi-Na and shoot her a look, one that conveys without words your feelings, that makes her lower her head, discouraged from pursuing the issue further.

"It really wasn't you who wrote the message on the wall?" Kyung-Jun changes the subject, but once again, it still targets Jun-Hee, and your fingers tighten around the phone in your hands, tired of this back and forth.

"Do you think I had the time to do so?" Jun- Hee grits out through his teeth, trying to remain civil. "Would it make sense between my waking up and yours, that I would have been able to run to the annex just for that?"

"Who knows?" Jin-Ha intones childishly. "Maybe you wrote it in the middle of the night while we were asleep." He shrugs his shoulders mockingly, before adding, "Why would you willingly choose to be eliminated unless you were crazy and knew you would be saved? You Mafia bastard."

"He's a Citizen," you comment confidently as you stare down Jin-Ha. "Can we say the same about you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Isn't there something you want to tell us?"

Jin-Ha stands up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. The screeching sound has everyone turning to him. "Don't talk in circles, you bitch!"

"Quiet!" Kyung-Jun shouts, and Jin-Ha turns his head toward his leader, still shaking in anger. "Stop embarrassing yourself."

"You can't so easily cast accusations on someone else when you were the most suspicious this morning," you spit out with venom. "Don't act as if none of us saw you behaving weirdly earlier when we found Seung-Bin's body."

Jin-Ha deflates quickly, dropping back down into his seat, seething as to remain strong and in control. "How was I weird?!" He barely restrains himself from full out screaming at you.

"Since you came out of the bathroom without a shirt on pleading with everyone that you weren't the killer, was it before or after you discarded your bloody top?"

"How did you—"

"Shut up!" Kyung-Jun bellows at him. "Right now!"

Jin-Ha presses his lips together tightly, chin quivering. He knows he's been silenced, his interjection alone more incriminating than he intended.

"What would you do if the Police actually are trying to communicate with us?" Yoon-Seo speaks up beside you.

"Have you ever thought of that possibility?"

"I also think the same," Na-Hee voices meekly. "Perhaps the Doctor knows more than we do and was sure that Jun-Hee's a Citizen. They wouldn't just risk saving a random person most likely to be Mafia."

"Rather than interrogating Jun-Hee, isn't finding the person who killed Seung-Bin a more pressing matter?" So-Mi's words echo yours and that has everyone turning steadily toward Jin-Ha, seeking answers.

"It wasn't me!" Jin-Ha stresses. "He was already dead when I woke up!"

Yoon-Seo shifts on her feet and starts her investigation. "You said it was just you two, right?" At Jin-Ha's nod, she continues on. "Was there anything unusual that happened that you remember of?"

Jin-Ha runs a hand down his face, trying to recall details late last night and early this morning. "Nothing stands out." He looks around and noticing more than a few narrowed eyes on him, backpedals. "The Mafias could have easily smeared the blood on me when I was out cold, but I swear I wasn't trying to get rid of evidence or anything a few hours ago!" Met with silence, he expectantly turns to Kyung-Jun. "Isn't that right? You know me better than everyone here. I wouldn't do that."

Kyung-Jun scoffs, and his next words has Jin-Ha's expectant expression dropping, betrayal written all over his face. "Maybe I don't know you as well as I thought."

"What?"

"More than a few people witnessed you covered in Seung-Bin's blood. Isn't that clear evidence?" Kyung-Jun looks Jin-Ha dead in the eyes, no regrets evident. "Is it not because he kept picking on you, belittling you, that you found the perfect chance to end him completely? It's getting more likely that you'll be voted out."

"Is this how you repay me?!" Jin-Ha questions, and your blood runs cold at the way Kyung-Jun so easily casts people aside, readily sending them to their deaths without so much as a blink of his eyes. "Gaesaekki."

Kyung-Jun kicks his chair aside and it upends after tumbling over its own legs, winding up upside down a few feet away, the sound reverberating in the now still- room. "You must have a death wish, scumbag."

He grabs Jin-Ha by the neck of his shirt and the two wrestle one another, throwing the other onto the tabletops, their strengths nearly equal.

That is, until Jin-Ha bumps into the edge of one and lands on the floor, holding his hip. Seeing the lucky advantage, Kyung-Jun immediately makes the most of it, kicking the former relentlessly, showing no mercy or regard for their past friendship.

Yoon-Seo dashes over in an attempt to pry them apart, but with a quick fling of Kyung-Jun's arm, it sends her straight to the floor with a yelp.

You hurry over to get her back to her feet, supporting her with an arm behind her back and one in the front across her shoulder line as she stands up, moving her farther away from the chaos.

Ultimately, it takes both Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun to pry Kyung-Jun off an already battered and bleeding Jin-Ha, new scratches littering his face and lip cut, fresh bleed oozing out.

"Vote him out!"

"How can you be so certain it's him?!" Yoon-Seo admonishes. "What if you're wrong? What then?!"

You squeeze her shoulder and pull her back even more as Kyung-Jun swivels his head to glare at her. "Shut your fucking mouth and do as you're told."

While he's momentarily distracted, Jun-Hee strides toward him and snatches his phone from his shirt pocket.

"Give that back, you fucker."

"For what? So that you can keep doing whatever the hell you want?"

"What's it to you? You do as you wish and so can I."

"If you keep this power trip up and behave like a dictator, there's no guarantee that you won't wind up getting every single vote." That shuts the taller one up for the time being as he realizes no one is on his side. "We'll meet again at eleven tonight to decide as a whole. Let's not act rashly until then," Jun-Hee concludes.

Although everyone is still skeptical and more confused than anything, the crowd ultimately disperses, including a peeved Kyung-Jun who is allowed to have his phone back, courtesy of Jun-Hee.

In a final show of defiance, he kicks a lone table so hard it slams against the wall though no one bats an eye, too used to his anger issues by now.

In the meantime, Dong-Hyun and Hyun-Ho place Jin-Ha's arms, one on either of their shoulders, and hoist him up.

"Let's get him to the infirmary," Yoon-Seo leads, Jung-Won and you trailing behind the other four.

Before you can leave, a hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist.

Sensing you no longer following, Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won look behind them, but seeing the hold up, they nod and head out first.

"Is everything alright?"

Jun-Hee simply nods as he slides his fingers down until they reach your hand, holding them in his own.

"So-Mi," he mutters, startling her as she's cleaning up the fallen tables and chairs in the room as a result of the fight earlier. "Can we talk?"

She immediately stops and turns to him, all bright-eyed and lips curling upward.

"I'll go," you yield, ready to take your hand away.

"Yeah, you really should."

So-Mi can barely contain her smile as she straightens out her skirt and hair quickly.

"No, I want you to stay."

Her smile falls as quickly as it appeared, expression turning ever darker when Jun-Hee laces his fingers through yours.

"Didn't you have something to tell me? Only me?"

"This isn't something just between us," Jun-Hee straightforwardly settles. "Whatever I have or need to say, it will always be in front of her."

"What is it then?"

"Don't ever frame anyone, especially Seol-Hwa, for me."

So-Mi scoffs, hatred burning in her eyes. "Jun-Hee, can't you see that I was trying to save you? All I wanted was to help."

"I never asked for it."

"How can you say that to me?"

“You can blame me all you want, but the truth is you didn't do it for me. You did it for yourself."

"Yah Kim Jun-Hee," she mutters in disbelief. "Don't you remember what I did for you, or are you just that heartless? Who sided with you when you were suspected?" So-Mi points a finger at her chest repeatedly, tapping it against her sternum. "It was me!" Her lip quivers, eyes enlarged. "Get a hold of yourself! Do you really want me to consider you a Mafia?"

"Suit yourself," Jun-Hee replies with utmost disinterest, turning to walk away while pulling you along. "I've only ever cared about what Seol-Hwa thinks of me."

With your back against one of the bed frames for the bunk beds, your brain is elsewhere rather than in reality.

Seated around the table in the middle of the room, Yoon-Seo, Jung-Won, Da-Bum, Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun all stare off into space, lost in their own thoughts.

Jun-Hee takes a seat beside you, looking at you warily from where you're not moving your gaze away from your phone, eyes scanning across the device, counting those remaining over and over again.

"Eat even if you don't want to," comes Jung-Won's voice as a triangle kimbap and soda are placed in your field of vision. "I can't remember the last time I saw you eat something ever since we got here."

You look up at her then glance to the kimbap in her outstretched hand. She still remembers your go-to convenience store food, even after all these years.

Hesitantly taking it, you push the soda back toward her. "This one's your favorite. It always has been."

Jung-Won sends you a small smile and immediately cracks the soda can open, taking a long gulp from it.

The break in the silence of the room spurs the rest to take tiny bites of snacks atop the table that up until now had remained untouched.

Da-Bum, Hyun-Ho, and Dong-Hyun all rise shortly after, and you call out to them,

"Where are you three going? Should I be worried?"

Hyun-Ho shakes his head. "Dong-Hyun and I are just going to check around for any more trouble." As he walks past you, he ruffles your hair. "Don't fret so much eomma."

"You—" you retort, but the two are already out of the room before you can follow.

Da-Bum juts a finger in an arbitrary direction. "My laptop is still in the basement so..."

"Oh, right," Jung-Won acknowledges, a light slap to her forehead. "I'll go with you then."

You close your eyes momentarily at the much needed silence, Jun-Hee's and Yoon- Seo's rummaging around the room not at all deterring your peace.

"Hey, Seol-Hwa, Yoon-Seo," Jun-Hee suddenly calls. Your eyes open, one first then finally the other, after seeing him hold Woo-Ram's camcorder in his hands, not a bit worse for wear. You hadn't seen it since the hiking incident, not wishing to ever relive those memories. Huddling around Jun-Hee on either side, you and Yoon-See peer at the small rectangular screen, following the path of Jun-Hee's pointer finger. "Watch." He presses play and it captures a far away image of what appears to be a couple on a cliff outcrop overlooking the ocean. Neither you nor Yoon-Seo had seen this in person, with her having stayed back at the building and you with Dong-Hyun on the other side of the trail. "They don't move at all. Isn't this strange?"

"It doesn't look real."

Even seeing it, you couldn't believe it. The footage enters in and out with static, though the image is permanently at a standstill.

"How is this possible?" Yoon-Seo angles the screen more toward her and Jun-Hee lets her have it as she fast-forwards through the video, eventually zooming in to the couple's faces. "Uh...guys."

"What is it?"

Yoon-Seo quickly flips the screen your way at your concern, and you catch sight of the scratched out faces, exactly like that of the school photos you found.

"What do we make of this?"

Jun-Hee runs a hand through his hair as Yoon-Seo closes the camcorder shut, fingers rubbing her temples.

"I think we should revisit the teacher's lounge."

The two nod as they readily follow your path straight toward the offices.

It's left completely untouched and in the exact same condition you all found it the first night upon arrival.

"Nothing's changed, yet everything has," Yoon-Seo murmurs, more to herself than anything.

You plop down behind one of the computers and reboot the system, hoping something— anything—comes of it this time around.

A flash comes from the corner and you overhear bits and pieces of Jun-Hee's and Yoon-Seo's conversation, although you're too busy looking below the desk for possible clues you've potentially missed.

"A picture of me? What for?"

"I tried with inanimate objects in this room, and the result is fine, but human subjects... the face is distorted. It's so unsettling, Jun-Hee."

As you're about to pull yourself up, the faintest whisper of movement catches your ear. A sound. Faint at first, like a breeze running through paper, but unmistakably...human. Your pulse spikes as you spin around, your breath hitching as you scan the cubicle walls. The air feels thicker now, charged.

Then, the crawling sensation creeps in, running from your neck to trail down your spine as goosebumps start to litter your skin.

When you look over, thin spindly black fingers inch into view, cold, spectral— ghostly and translucent—crawling up the dividers.

The first one appears from the shadowed corner, stretching like a long, spidery limb. Your heart pounds against your ribs as you stare unmoving at the digits sliding up the wall, bending and curving unnaturally, moving without sound.

You recoil back, eyes locked onto the fingers as they continue their slow ascent, unable to look away. There was something hypnotic, something awful, in the way they moved, like they were searching for prey, creeping closer, pale nails directed at you.

You shake your head as you blink, trying to rid yourself of the hallucination, and suddenly, a shiny golden key drops from thin air.

Your fingers are clutched so tightly around your phone that they turn white, gradually losing feeling.

A ping snaps you out of it and with shaky hands, it takes you multiple tries to finally open the animation announcement, a perfect picture replica of the key you just obtained.

[ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ʜᴏsᴛ. ]

As you sit stunned with the key still in your outstretched hand laid face-up atop the table, the door swings open and closed again.

"Seol-Hwa...?" Da-Bum whispers, drawing the attention of the others. "Are you... okay?"

Jun-Hee makes to touch your face, but thinks better of it seeing you in total shock. "You look really shaken up. What's wrong?"

Jung-Won leans her elbow on the counter beside you, studying you worriedly.

"I saw a ghost earlier." Everyone's varying reactions would've been comical in any other situation if the stakes weren't so deadly. "It gave me this—"

You present the sole key to them.

"Do you know what it's for?"

Jun-Hee leans over from behind you to peer at it, curious.

"I have no clue, but since there's a message for it, it must be something important."

Jung-Won stands closer as Yoon-Seo and Da-Bum also crowd around to assess. "What did it say?"

"What we've all been wanting: to find the host." You tilt your head at her, confused. "Did you not get the instructions?"

Jung-Won pulls out her phone and scrolls before peering up over the top edge of glasses, staring long and hard at you. "I didn't." Addressing the group, she asks, "How about the rest of you?"

Met with three matching shakes of the head, you gaze at them dumbfounded.

"Was it only for me?"

"Can you show me what it looks like?" Jung-Won gestures toward your device and you readily unlock it, going straight to the notification center within the game.

You bite on the inside of your cheek as the inbox reads empty. "It...disappeared." To your own ears, even you sound odd, but who would lie about something this out of the ordinary. "Regardless, there must be a reason to find the host. Why don't we alert everyone and make the search easier, hmm?"

"Is that really necessary?" Jung-Won exhales and her tone suddenly becomes curt. "I have to be honest with you Seol-Hwa, I can't keep up with the things you tell us. We never find anything based on these half leads. What if you get suspected as Mafia again for saying that?"

The others can sense the tension growing between the two of you as your voice changes from hopeful to one of annoyance. "This has nothing to do with my intuition or pieces of clues. The game itself sent me the message."

Shaking her head, it seems as though Jung-Won can hardly contain herself from iterating something she'd regret. "Yes, to you only, and for your eyes only. We don't even have evidence of it. If other people don't believe it, there's nothing you can do."

"Are you saying I made all of this up?" your voice rises, and Da-Bum jumps in anxiously, hoping to shift the conversation elsewhere.

"It's not that we're blaming you, but rather, the situation..."

"Right," Jung-Won placates. "I just think it's better for all of us to be careful until we find solid evidence. We can't afford to end up in the same position of sacrificing one of us like the previous nights."

Yoon-Seo remains quiet, glancing back and forth between all of you sadly.

As a last resort, you turn to Jun-Hee, but you can already tell it's a lost cause.

"Seol-Hwa, you know I believe you—no matter what it is. It's the fact that the rest doesn't in the way I do that has me worried. Maybe we can keep this between us for the time being?"

You look around at all of them in quick succession, feeling more hurt than you expected. "So the final verdict is what?" you say aloud bitterly. "That you all trust me— just not enough?"

"That's not—" Jung-Won interjects, but you push your chair back, walking away from the desk, key in hand.

"Seol-Hwa..." comes Yoon-Seo's kind voice as you head for the door.

With your hand around the doorknob, Jun-Hee grabs your free one, making you swivel back around.

"Let me come with."

For the first time, you find it hard to readily accept his companionship as you slip your hand out of his.

You know that the look in his eyes as you leave is one of regret, clashing with the look of dejection in yours.

The retreat center was vast, empty in its isolation, with the kind of oppressive silence that swallowed everything—every breath, every thought.

You wander down the narrow stone path outside the entrance, careful not to overstep the borderlines, each step hesitant against the asphalt.

The air is thick with the smell of damp earth, despite no recent downpours, the faint whisper of the wind through the trees, and the looming unsettling knowledge that another night would soon begin.

It wasn't that you didn't know the game was still unfolding, like a nightmare that couldn't end, but you thought you had adapted—that you were resilient enough to brace yourself against the horrors.

However, it was the quiet moments that cut the deepest.

Your heart weighed heavier than usual. You were foolish to think that friendship and loyalty could turn the tides of this situation, but the longer you were all involved, the greater the distance between you all grew with each passing day.

The looks.

The half-formed glances.

The doubts that override trust.

Perhaps no one had outright said it, but it was in their eyes—the fear, the suspicion. You couldn't blame them, regardless of your personal disappointments.

In a game to the death where everyone is forced to play the villain in one way or the other, who could find fault in anyone for becoming paranoid—for not being able to trust anyone fully except oneself?

Exhaling on a long outbreath, you lower yourself onto the curb, sitting down with your legs outstretched in front of you.

"Hey."

A voice cuts through the silence, startling you from her thoughts. Turning, you instinctively gaze upward, eyes landing on the lone figure approaching.

Yu-Jun.

There weren't many instances where the two of you interacted, little in this game, and even more sparingly before it. He had always been distant, even in the halls of school, and just as he had perceptions about you, so did you about him so far as concerning his character, by association of the friends he kept around him.

He had been one of those people who didn't care enough to pretend, too consumed with his own world to notice those of others.

Truthfully, you never liked him, and he'd certainly never been kind to you.

But, things were different now.

Both of you were resurrectors; it was your shared responsibility to bring back those chosen by the game's cruel hand—to give them another chance to survive.

You could see the weight of that responsibility was starting to show on Yu-Jun's face. His eyes were heavy, hollow. There was also something else there now—a weariness you couldn't place, a kind of sorrow you hadn't seen in him when Ji-Soo was still around.

"Hey," you repeat, voice softer than you mean for it to be.

Yu-Jun takes a step closer, his footsteps deliberate, debating whether to sit beside you. "You're out here alone." After a few more awkward shuffles of his feet, he takes a seat on the same curb as you, a respectable distance away.

You shrug, arms crossed tightly over your midsection. "Just needed a little bit of space to myself."

He nodded as if understanding, then looked away, line of sight drifting to the ground. The silence stretches thin, until finally, he speaks again, low and almost detached.

"I can't save anyone tonight, but I know I made the right previous choice."

"Why did you choose to save Jun-Hee?" You dragging the toe of your shoe against the gravel, rocks crunching beneath your feet, finding the right words to rephrase with. "Not that I'm not thankful, it's just... don't take offense to this, but I didn't pin you to be the type to do so."

Yu-Jun doesn't meet your eyes. Instead, he stared off into the darkness, his jaw tight, like the words are hard to force out. "I didn't want you both to end up like me," he mutters, his voice cracking, though he quickly clears his throat to mask it. "I couldn't save her. I couldn't save us."

Your gaze flickers to his, and for the briefest moment, something vulnerable flashes in his eyes. "Do you see you both in Jun-Hee and I?"

He looks down at his hands as if can still feel the weight of Ji-Soo in his arms.

He pauses as if her name still lingers on the tip of his tongue.

"That night I... I should've saved her. I was supposed to—choose between myself and her. Like a coward, I..." he halts, words choking on the air. "I chose myself."

You didn't speak, letting him continue. Something in the way his shoulders hunched told you that talking about this wasn't easy for him and you could sense the bitterness, the guilt, so thick in his tone.

The confession hangs in the silence, suffocating on its own weight.

It was too easy to hear the regret in his voice, the sorrow that he hadn't been able to shake. His past was now a living ghost that haunted him, and you felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"Why didn't you save her?" you ask softly, words careful, far too gentle.

Yu-Jun turns toward you, a mixture of pain and sadness in his eyes. "Because I'm a fool —I have always been a fool. I truly thought I could beat the game. I thought I could make it through. I believed that if I just played the right way, I—we—could survive. But I know now how wrong I was." His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible. "Now, every time I bring someone back... I ask myself if I'm just choosing them to make up for the one I lost?"

You reach out, placing your hand lightly on his shoulder. It wasn't much—just a small, quiet gesture of comfort.

"All grievances are settled at the end of every life. Ji-Soo will hear you and she'll understand. I know so," you reassure, certain.

Yu-Jun stiffens at first, before his shoulders fall and he breathes out, long and slow, nodding in acceptance as he sits in silence to ponder.

You brush off your skirt as you stand up, turning to leave and allow him to be with his thoughts on his own, sensing the end of your talk.

As you take one last look back, you can't seem to shake the feeling that this might be the first and last conversation you'll ever have with him.

𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

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