#a person who thinks all the time has nothing else to think about except thoughts

[sapphicvalentines]

☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆ pt4

pt1 , pt2 , pt3

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

wlw,fluff

wc:5k

warnings: none except violence

On a rainy Friday night, when a storm was raging, you were more worried about your father than yourself, even as the whole house shook violently.

He finally came back home, soaked clothes clinging to him, and bruises marking his face.

You felt relieved that he still had all four fingers, after his gang had taken one for letting an enemy escape.

As tears streamed down his face, you quickly wiped them away as he sat before you.

It was clear to you, even then, that you would never choose the same path as your father.

"I'm not interested" you responded to ellie standing in front of you.

The way you beat up the man who stole your purse surprised Ellie, but the fact that you stood up for yourself and didn't ask her to make him pay got her even more interested. It felt like a waste not to have you in Dina's gang, but she still respected your decision; she knew she couldn't force you into criminality.

Also, who the hell would fight in a frilly dress?

Ellie understood that you had your own reasons (she thought you couldn't bear wearing anything other than Lolita dresses).

You couldnt perfectly hear the low whispers from Ellie's friends, but you guessed they wondered why Ellie was asking you to join the gang.

Ellie turned to them and introduced you, saying, "she sells really cool stuff,i got a new jacket for Himeko."

The gangsters shot you a more appreciative glance before talking with Ellie. She explained the whole thing about your stolen purse to them while you were just standing there like this 🧍‍♀️.

After a while, Ellie turned her attention back to you, telling you she has to go do what she usually does while out with her gang.

The girls' motorcycles roared once again, with Ellie sitting behind one of her friends since she had left hers at home. They respectfully said 'goodbye' and left, disappearing into the dust.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the idea of Ellie finding out you had sold her fake brand clothes. If she ever told her whole gang, they would certainly not spare you any trouble and might even do worse than chopping off your fingers...

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

The next day, you were met with peace, but you also had mixed feelings.

You hadn't seen Ellie all day, but out of sight didn't mean out of mind.

Every time you'd do anything, it felt like you were trying to distract yourself from thinking of her.

You kept thinking about how she was willing to help you catch the thief and find your purse, how she tried to lift your spirits up no matter how tired you were, and how proud and impressed she was when you made the thief pay.

It was cloudy that day, but her smile was outshining the sun.

The 200 bucks she helped you get weren't used to buy a new purse; you looked at it and put it in your wallet. Instead of saving up, you thought about giving it to Ellie as a sign of gratitude.

After all, you would probably still be waiting for the police to find your purse if Ellie hadn't been here for you.

Ellie also gave you her phone number,

'just in case you need my help.'

You saved it in your contacts; in fact, she was the only person you've ever had in there.

As you were thinking about texting her, you were also contemplating your emotions.

Bitter, but also sweet; you've never felt lonely before meeting Ellie.

Perhaps it was because you spent such a great time with her that you finally acknowledged a hole you didn't even know was there in the first place.

A hole that was created when you made the mistake of getting attached to people who weren't worthy of your love.

You only realize it now that she's gone, that it actually felt pleasant being around her.

You closed your glittering flip phone, making a 'clap' sound as you sighed. You were comfortable being alone but uncomfortable feeling lonely.

"she's probably having fun with her friends," you thought. So instead of texting her, you tried to distance yourself.

And it started with getting rid of your thoughts about her. So you cleaned your room, baked with your grandma, had tea time, listened to classical music as you sewed a brand new headband, and tried on different outfits for the next time you go out. However, you were spending more time trying to distract yourself than actually enjoying yourself.

You fell into a restless sleep after this long, tiring day, still with the feeling you failed to make go away.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

One, then two, then three rocks were thrown at your window. You were already awake, lying on your bed, but too lazy to start changing.

Or just start this day, in general.

Then another rock hit your window. The rocks were too small to break the glass, but you still wondered why this person kept persisting at getting your attention.

Although you already had your own idea of who that person was.

After slipping out of the covers, you walked towards your windows and opened them, pushing out the curtains, letting the morning sun enter your bedroom.

You weren't surprised to see her once again.

Ellie looked up at you with a faint smile and waved at you without saying a word.

You had no idea why she showed up in front of your house, but the reason was probably not as important as buying your fake luxury clothes.

After a moment of silence, you started to close the windows, making the auburn-haired girl scream to stop.

That was not so discreet of her.

"i'm just going to change, I'll be right back," you reassured her before closing the windows and putting on the curtains.

About 15 minutes passed by before you showed up in front of Ellie. You didn't wear something extravagant, unlike other days, just a simple baby pink and white dress matching with your old-school lolita bonnet.

To Ellie, you took a lot of time to dress up just to put on a simple outfit. "you know, that's kinda rude", Ellie referred to you closing the windows when you saw her.

"I was going to sleep in, but you interrupted me".You didn't only close them for changing, but mostly to annoy her. Her reactions were so funny.

"sleeping that much is bad for your health though",Ellie replied, looking at your face. You looked like you had enough beauty sleep, unlike her and her eye bags.

On the other hand, you didn't mind her eye bags; they looked cute. But the cute freckles adorning her face were adorable.

"what do you know about health? you smoke", you retorted. It was enough to make her face instantly turn as red as a tomato. She was thinking of a violent comeback but couldn't reply. "anyways, why didn't you just knock at the front door like a decent human?"

"your grandma's there"ellie pointed at your front door where your grandma was. You suddenly remembered when your grandma was trying to tear her ear off; it was hilarious now that you think about it.

"oh yeah, I forgot, she's guarding the house from people like you",you said, holding back your laugh. But Ellie wasn't pleased by the slight insult/teasing. You didn't forget when she revealed she stalked your dad though.

"hey, who gives you money? you better watch your mouth," Ellie said, half-jokingly, but you still enjoyed teasing her; it was like a guilty pleasure.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn't come to see you at all yesterday, but Ellie suddenly grabbed your arm, remembering why she came here in the first place. "come with me, I wanna show you something."

Her touch was as warm as the weather. You couldn't explain why, but it brought you a feeling of comfort, knowing that today was going to be as pleasant as a few days ago, or maybe even better.

However, you still felt reluctant.

What's with the excited look on her face?

Ellie didn't directly voice her intentions and it didn't convince you to follow her. "what is it?"

The fact that you spent a whole day with her, even if the reason was looking for your purse, was enough for Ellie to consider you as a friend.

Ellie wanted to keep it a surprise, but she also knew you wouldn't go with her if she told you what she had in mind. "do you trust me?"she asked.

She looked deep into your eyes with a faint smile, she couldnt convince you , so she tried persuasion.

"absolutely not",you replied honestly. The last time she told you to trust her was before the spicy food contest, and this girl couldn't eat spicy noodles to save her life!

The truth was that she just wanted to help. If lying about the most random things could get you to do fun things with her, she would certainly do it.

And that's exactly how she managed to get you behind her on her black bosozoku. You were gripping the sides of her motorcycle for dear life, not having any seatbelt on.

Ellie pushed the key, turning on her motorcycle, before looking at you to make sure you felt safe.

You caught her smirk before she turned her head back to look at the road; the gangster could tell you've never been on a motorcycle before.

"gimme your hands," Ellie said.

You did as Ellie said, and she placed your arms around her waist. You didn't mind being this close to her since it was for your safety, especially when she smelled so good.

You felt safer holding Ellie like this than wearing helmets and protection from head to toe.

But that quickly changed as soon as she drove off, speeding as if she owned the road.

Many drivers honked, surprised by how fast and how close Ellie was approaching them. You could swear you would have died right there if she wasn't used to doing this.

It was almost miraculous that both of you arrived safe and sound in Shibuya, but not without feeling so dizzy that you couldn't walk straight.

"c'mon, was I really that bad?" Ellie complained at your reaction. She forgot it was your first time on a motorcycle as she was driving; she was purely guided by adrenaline and kind of felt bad about it.

"are you expecting me to praise you after driving like this?" You left home without eating breakfast, and Ellie promised you'd eat once you guys arrived in Shibuya. However, you were too nauseous to put anything in your mouth. You wondered if it wasnt part of her plan

The worst part is Ellie wasn't even drunk,she was driving like this sober !

As she was driving, you forced yourself not to blink, too scared that you would see your life flash by at any moment.

"you're such a drama queen. also, I like physical touch over praises if that helps," the auburn-haired girl chuckled. She saw how nauseous you felt and decided to get you straight to the place she had in mind, skipping breakfast.

"shut up"you retorted but you didnt let this information unregistered in your head.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Entering this luxurious building felt like stepping into a hidden world. You felt excited, but it also felt wrong.

Everyone gathered around everything. Younger adults were drawn towards slot machines, whereas older people gathered around tables playing games you knew your dad had played before.

You immediately recognized you had entered a casino when you saw the elders playing roulette.

It was during this game that your dad met his ex-gang for the very first time, managing to befriend the members despite losing all his money to them.

That must be a gangster thing because Ellie was literally the one dragging you here. You had passed in front of the building multiple times but never entered it due to lack of interest.

Ellie walked towards the back of the room, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn't run away.

You felt eyes on you as Ellie continued towards a colorful door at the back of the room, its colors contrasting with the white-beige walls of the room but blending perfectly with the one she led you into.

The pink and yellow machines immediately caught your eye.

Ellie knew what she was doing.

Upbeat music played, setting the atmosphere, and unlike the other room, these games attracted both elders and younger people.

"what game is that?" You turned to Ellie, who was already taking a seat. There was no way you could refuse playing pachinko after she had won you 200 bucks last time.

"just another way for us to make money,who knows...we might even get rich by the end of the day." Ellie had played pachinko multiple times before bringing you here for the first time. Luck wasn't something she believed in, but she had learned tricks that often made her win—maybe not every time, but more than everyone in the room combined.

It was also the occasion to see you and make up for her absence yesterday since she was busy kicking ass with her friends.

But mostly, she wanted to show off after losing the spicy eating contest to you. She still hadn't recovered after this, being the bad loser she is...

"sometimes your confidence is kinda tricky," you replied, looking at her hands taking out shiny balls from her pockets.

This girl never carried a bag, so she had the most random things hidden in her pockets.

"just sometimes, not every time" Ellie took your hand, giving you a handful of pachinko balls without giving you the choice but to play with her.

It's not like you would say 'no' after making all this way here, and especially after she helped you find your precious purse.

Her finger softly grazed next to the silver bow ring adorning your middle finger.

"did you know that you can make jewelry out of pachinko balls?" Ellie asked as she pulled a lever, launching the balls in the machine. Colorful arrows of lights flickered on the Pac-Man backboard as upbeat music started to play.

"really?" You mimicked Ellie's action with your Dragon Ball Z-themed machine. You weren't particularly into shonen anime, but the other machine to Ellie's right was already taken by a young guy.

Ellie elaborated as she adjusted the pressure on the lever, launching the shiny balls in the machine, trying to get them into the winning pocket. "you can drill small holes into the balls to string them together for necklaces or bracelets. I've seen some girls adding beads and charms, it's kinda cute."

Your eyes followed the balls bouncing off pins and obstacles as you pressed the button, trying to control their trajectory. Too focused on the machine in front of you, you nodded in response to her random facts.

Ellie then closed her mouth, fully dedicating her attention to putting the small balls in the winning pocket. The balls kept launching in the machine as she applied pressure on the lever, but not a single one would hit the jackpot. She considered this as a warm-up, hoping she would quickly get the hang of it.

On the other hand, despite having absolutely no experience in playing pachinko or gambling games, you were doing perfectly, having each single ball thrown straight into the winning pocket as if you'd been playing for years.

It was not strategy nor how many times you were pressing the button that would make you win; there was simply no other explanation than luck. You never went outside without putting on your favorite silver ring, convinced that it would bring you luck. And here you were, getting more balls in the tray ready to be exchanged for money.

Ellie looked at your machine, purely intrigued. She thought she was going to impress you and not the other way around.

Not a single ball missed the winning pocket!

"hey, did you know why the pachinko ball went to school?" Ellie went back to playing but not without trying to distract you.

"I have no idea." You knew what Ellie was doing; you were starting to know her a little better. Her stupid jokes weren't something that would easily distract you; in fact, you kept accumulating new balls in your tray.

"because it wanted to be a little brighter." She was the only one laughing, but she managed to make you smile, which satisfied her.

She was convinced she could make you laugh out loud soon.

"trying to distract me won't make you win." You would occasionally glance at her, desperately trying to get at least one ball in the winning pocket, noticing how her confidence disappeared instantly from the minute she started to pull the lever.

You almost pitied her. (you kept playing anyway.)

Ellie thought there was no other explanation than a machine problem; maybe she picked a defective machine that would only make her lose.

After a few minutes, you noticed Ellie wasn't beside you anymore; the seat on your right was empty, and instead of her, you caught the envious gaze of a guy looking younger than you.

The sound of people whispering behind you, along with balls aggressively flipping at every corner of the machine, made you turn around; Ellie was behind you on another machine.

Luckily winning, she'd get new shiny balls in her tray after 30 minutes of playing, already imagining how full of cash her pockets were going to be.

However, if money could bring luck, it could also do the opposite; you were too focused on your game to notice how much attention it gathered.

"It's her, right over there with the child's clothes," the door in the back of the room opened before loudly being slammed. Two men in suits walked straight towards you.

Ellie noticed them and stood up before they could try anything.

"she's cheating, sir! I saw her with my own eyes!" It was the same guy looking at you with pure envy from earlier, now talking. You didn't even notice him leaving. You wondered how he was going to prove it.

"miss, stand up and step aside," the taller guy ordered, not even considering the younger guy lying.

"how is winning cheating? this dude is just mad that I have good luck," you defended yourself, but you could tell the taller guy didn't want to hear anything from a woman like you, even if you were telling the truth.

You desperately wanted to keep your jackpot, so you had no choice but to do as he told you, hoping this misunderstanding would quickly end.

Suddenly, you felt a hand forcefully pushing you towards the two men. The three of you fell to the floor like bowling pins, with the two men's heads bumping into each other as yours was cushioned by the tall guy's abdomen.

You didn't even want to apologize when the younger dude yelled at you for trying to kill them, claiming it was an attempt to get away with your 'cheating'

You sighed at how chaotic the situation had turned in just a split second and noticed Ellie behind you.

The two men slowly stood up, and the taller guy pushed you away before he went to check the pachinko machine.

There was no proof that you were cheating, and the look of envy on the guy's face was now mixed with jealousy.

He added another lie, determined to make you lose your jackpot. "aren't minors forbidden in this place, sir?"

His tone was so cocky; you were more trying to control yourself from punching him in the face than keep explaining yourself.

"shut the fuck up. I bet your pubic hair is still growing for the first time," Ellie walked towards him as she cracked her fingers, her patience quickly wearing thin.

The guy stepped back anxiously as he recognized the golden signature on Ellie's jacket.

You've never seen anyone get in such a state just by looking at someone's jacket, but this also explained why everyone would give Ellie a 3-meter of private space in public.

"excuse me? watch your mouth, otherwise not only her, but also you will be expelled," he wasn't even denying what Ellie had said.

The tall man looked you up and down, wondering how the guards even let you enter the casino. You and Ellie didn't even see anyone controlling people at the entrance.

Ellie's gaze shifted from the young guy's face to the tall man's, coming up with a quick lie too, even though both of you were legal. "no, seriously, she's uh... she's my mother. she's just dressed in child's clothes."

Both of the guys looked at each other before looking at you, searching for any sign of old age.

"Yeah, I brought my daughter here so we could get money and get a lawyer for divorce." Your brain worked faster than you'd think. You glanced at Ellie before looking at them, hoping to make this lie sound like truth to the stupid men.

Unfortunately, their level of stupidity was so high that they would only believe men lying, but never women, regardless of whether they'd lie or tell the truth.

Because you had tried both,but it didn't stop both you and Ellie from being expelled from the casino, thrown outside of the building like useless trash.

You brushed the dust off your dress as you stood up with Ellie. "I hate men," you complained as you looked at the front of the building.

The reason both of you got kicked out wasn't because of your age, but because Ellie violently headbutted the two men who were going to call the police on them.

You didn't blame her though; you got kicked out without your jackpot, but she did what you restrained yourself from doing.

Ellie looked at you, making sure you weren't hurt or anything. "same, they didn't have to throw us out like that", her voice dripping with annoyance as she looked back at the building.

Although you were safe, with no police to track you down and no men trying to threaten you, you still felt bad and for losing the jackpot you won.

But you stopped worrying once you recognized the shiny balls Ellie was taking out of her pockets. "no need to be grumpy now,i got these just in time" Ellie said proudly as she handed them out to you. Ellie was usually chill and carefree, but in serious situations, her brain would always work faster than she'd think. That's how she got the quick reflex to push you to the two douchebags so she could put your pachinko balls in her pocket.

There was no way you were going to get in trouble AND lose what belonged to you.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Impatiently, both of you went to exchange the pachinko balls for money secretly. It wasn't your first time doing something illegal for your own interest; in fact, it was starting to become a habit.

Ellie counted up all the money while you stood next to her, ensuring there was no one watching around, but your eyes would always turn back to Ellie with a focused look on her face.

You couldn't see her beautiful freckles because the roofs of the houses were blocking the sun, casting their shadows on the ground.

The darkness reflected the mystery of Ellie's mind to you.

You wondered what her childhood was like, why she liked darker colors, how she always appeared tough and fearless. You wondered if she ever showed her vulnerable side to her gang members.

But mostly, you wondered why she kept helping you. Was there a deeper meaning behind her smile, a message conveyed through the way she looked at you, and why was she desperate to hear you laugh at her jokes?

Ellie wasn't an attention seeker, but she loved it when you would give yours to her.

The way you stood up for yourself and kicked the ass of the asshole who stole your purse that day was undeniably attractive.

Ellie was still thinking about it; she also imagined how it would be if you joined her gang. The day after that, although she hadn't seen you all day, it didn't mean that you didn't leave her mind.

You realized you hit the big jackpot when Ellie gave you the amount of money your luck was worth; those 500 bucks were easy money for you.

Ellie had a bit less money than you, but when you handed her half of what you had, she refused respectfully.

"we said we'd split up," you insisted. You still had the 200 bucks she got you doubled up in your purse. They were the first thing you grabbed before she drove you to the casino. You never had the occasion to properly thank her for helping you find your purse until now.

Ellie looked at you. She knew your intention but still refused, though she appreciated the act. "you won this because you're a good player. It's yours," her tone softer than usual.

So you softened yours too. "at least take it as a gift." You took her hand, but she closed it before you could give her anything.

You knew Ellie preferred actions over words, so why wasn't she accepting the money?

"I swear I'm going to shove it in your mouth if you keep refusing my act of gratefulness."

Ellie just laughed at how quickly your tone changed, insisting for her to take the money you offered her. She liked how fast you started to understand her.

"Wow, so kind of you, but-"Ellie replied sarcastically, but suddenly her phone rang, interrupting your moment.

Slipping the money into her pockets was far from discreet, so you decided to wait.

You weren't listening, just hearing.

You assumed the deep raspy voice talking to Ellie was Joel. He was telling her to come back home soon since the sun was going to start setting, which she agreed to. She couldn't say 'no' after he said he made pizza.

Ellie talked to Joel as she kept eye contact with you, making the call quick.

"' 'mkay, see ya," she closed her flip phone, making a 'clap' sound before fully focusing her attention back to you.

"kiddo..." you muttered. The way Ellie and Joel conversed told you a lot about their relationship. Joel had a caring yet friendly tone, while Ellie would give short and direct responses. Something felt off between these two, but what caught your attention the most was the nickname Joel would call Ellie. "he calls you kiddo, how cute."

Ellie put her phone back in her pocket, giving you an unappreciative side eye. "don't call me that."

"I was just saying that the way he calls you kiddo's cute." You noticed how embarrassed Ellie got; it showed all over her face with how fast she blushed.

Ellie sighed. She regretted not lowering the volume of her phone during her call; she knew you would tease her about it. "yeah, but he's the only one allowed to call me that."

"but I wasnt calling you kiddo."

"say that one more time and I'll kill you." Ellie shot you a glare as she playfully threatened you. You forgot this side of her for a moment. It wasn't the weed making her chill and goofy whenever she's around you; it was just the way she was with you.

You smiled playfully before leaning your face toward her,you knew perfectly how to annoy her "kiddo"

You ran as fast as you could away from her, with her chasing you.

The wind was blowing against you, making your hair fly as you ran.

Ellie was catching up to you, but before she could grab you ,you stumbled and slipped headfirst on the floor !

Too embarrassed, you stayed on the floor when you heard Ellie exploding into laughter as if she had been holding her laughter in for centuries.

"you don't even wear platforms, how the fuck did you slip like that?" Ellie walked closer to you still refusing to budge. You wanted her to feel guilty

Ellie noticed the lack of response and instantly got worried, already imagining the worst scenarios. She crouched down, gently moving your hair out of your face. "hey ♡, are you ok?" Her voice was caring and gentler compared to earlier.

If she only talks to you like this when worried, you'd stumble on the ground more often.

#Spotify #ellie fluff #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #mini series #tlou #ellie x reader #wlw

[pasteloctoz]

Redacted what ifs- Hero AU shitposting

might bring this series back i still need to write up mafia solaire clan.

They have the same powers as they do in the base universe, and unempowered people barely know about empowered people apart from heroes and villains, and D.U.M.P. is a corrupt government that controls people from reaching their true magical potential or whatever.

● DAMN Crew

-Vigilante Freelancer

Feel like Freelancer would initially be some kinda low level villainbc of how they were brought up, but then they meet Caelum and try to do more good than bad.

-Goofy Sidekick Caelum (i miss him so much)

Caelum would be Freelancer's gauge between good and bad. They'd probably become dependent on him at some point because they don't want to loose their temper.

-Hero Gavin

Gavin and FL have a complicated relationship initially and then find out abt eachothers identities and fall in love.

Also Gavin is probably the furthest thing from a hero he's just chillin with the lifestyle mandated by the corrupt government tbh.

Like he knows the government is bad but nothing compares to his life on Aria (forgot how to spell it)

-Support hero Lasko

Lasko is a support hero because of his relationship with Gavin.

-Civilian Damien

-Civilian Huxley

Lasko, Damien, and Hux are less involved in hero life bc they don't know about Caelum. Not to mention I like the idea of people who don't know about someone's trauma helping the person through it.

-Villain Vega

Hes more of a Vigilante but specifically for demon kind (i think ive barely listened to his audios) but in general hes a villain from FL's POV (cus he hurt caelum)

-Hero & Rival Kody

He's not enough of a bad guy to be a villain but he is enough of a parasite to frequent cameos in FL's routine.

● Shaw Pack

-Freelance Hero David

He takes jobs for money, and is indifferent to politics unless it effects his pack.

-Civilian Angel

Genuinely thought Davey was a normal guy (except for the moodyness n shifting). When they find out its about a year into the relationship and Angel isn't having any of that shit. Of course David told them about him being a shifter after a while but not THIS. Safe to say they'd be angry for a while.

-Civilian Asher

He's Davey's chairman, just cannot realistically be a full time hero because its too boring for him. Though he will help David any chance he gets.

Also probably the quipiest mother fucker ever-

-Civilian Baabe

They'd find out about Asher and Davey waaay before Angel and probably keep the secret too. Angel would be real hurt but heal a lot faster with Baabe.

-Hero Sweetheart

-Anti-Hero Milo

He definitely has SH realize the realities of government shit or whatever

Also Davey and Asher know about Milo being an Anti-Hero they just don't give a shit 😭

(I've lost all knowledge of what the fuck is going on with the vamps so im not caught up)

● Solaire Clan

-Support hero Sam

-Vigilante Darlin'

They're kinda on the run after getting a bit too violent with a villain. Then found out that the government is protecting certain villains because of the money they get if they do.

-Villain Quinn

Yes, the villain darlin' got too violent with is Quinn, who tf else would it be?

-Civilian Lovely

They'd still be a civilian after finding out they have magic, despite the government pushing them to be a hero. Although, they'd probably help a lot more after turning.

Another thing- the letters from the government asking lovely to be a hero would stop after their turning. They'd probably be even more angry when realizing that than when the government harassed them. Probably resulting in a breakdown and them thinking theyre worthless now.

-Hero Figure head Vincent

I don't think Vinnie would get too much into action unless absolutely needed.

-Hero Adam

Adam would've been a hero but gave into his cravings when lovely came around looking for vincent. But he wouldve been pushing his hero reputation a lot, if anyone knew of him before he died for good, they would've said hes a terrible hero.

-Hero Alexis

I dont think i need to say more, she'd still be on thin ice after sam's turning, though.

#☠️ hcs #redacted headcanons #redacted damn crew #redacted shaw pack #redacted solaire clan #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted caelum #redacted lasko #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted vega #redacted kody #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted asher #redacted baabe #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redacted lovely #redacted vincent #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted adam #redacted alexis #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted what ifs

[ratdogbutworse]

It’s Friday the 13th in October. You know what this means.

Do the Macarena but not to the Macarena song, but to All I want for Christmas is you by Mariah Carey with seven other people in cloaks and shirts that have an image of bibble at 11:39 pm circling around 67 plastic babies formed in a pentagram.

Crazy? I was crazy once-

#Forbidden #friday the 13th #mentally fucked #somehow gay #biseuxal #Totally sane #normal people things #bibble #spoopy #ranboo #gay #cursed #a person who thinks all the time has nothing else to think about except thoughts #oh god oh fuck #memes #crazy? i was crazy once

[tender-rosiey]

plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾

robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna

sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.

it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.

in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.

so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.

uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.

the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.

he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.

considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.

so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.

so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.

he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.

perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.

that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.

and no one knows about that door except—

“y/n.”

you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.

you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”

keyword: try.

he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”

he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”

your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.

you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.

sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”

he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.

you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.

and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?

he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”

you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, he also wants to know what’s wrong.

if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.

his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.

“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.

“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.

he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—

—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”

he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.

so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”

after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”

you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”

“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”

a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”

you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.

you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”

a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from you husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.

sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”

“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”

he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.

you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”

you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”

he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”

you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”

“good,” he smirks.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #sukuna imagine #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna x you #jjk sukuna x y/n

[imafoolishfragilespine]

i'm just like ugh i gotta figure out where to get this x ray and when i should do it this week and i'm just worried about walking in without an appointment even though it says you can and like them not having the machine or a person to do it or whatever since i went into one place on the list already and they did not have x-rays

and then i've got this birthday thing which idk where it's going to be so idk if i should take a lyft or not and then i'll have to either exercise in the morning or choose that as my skip day

and then i'll just be worrying about my test results and not knowing if the doctor is going to call before my follow up or WHAT is going to happen and i just. cannot relax.

i just want to be done with doctors i really fucking do like just tell me what's wrong and let me be DONE like this follow up is gonna be the eighth fucking time i've seen a doctor in some form since all this weird shit started and if i don't get any answers i'm gonna be mad. i mean i'd rather not get bad news of course but i figure things are already mildly crappy in my body so like it's not like i can't get used to that i just can't stand the idea of it getting worse

#personal #like it'll be nice to see my friends but idk i'm just like too stressed #i thought it would be okay to say yes bc i hadn't gotten horrible news yet #but i just have that ugh i don't feel like being social rn especially bc i know people are gonna be asking what's going on #and i really don't like talking about it bc if i DID have answers it might just be like ah well it's not that bad #but since i don't have answers i keep thinking of how horrible it might become and everything it might take away #including my ability to say yes to plans every time they come around which already is a rarity #like how much less could i end up seeing my friends when this is the only person who ever actually asks to see me #i feel so bratty but like. why does no one else include me in anything except for their birthdays if that #this one friendship that i kind of assume is over doesn't really bother me but at least i sometimes got invited to hers with everyone else #though there were plenty of hangouts that i knew happened seemingly often without me #but yeah at least when she was in the mix i had a chance even if they weren't hangouts i particularly enjoyed #like it was better than nothing #and this year has already been so hard that feeling like i'm even more isolated than i was the couple years before #just makes it all that much more impossible #i just want to be thought of and like i know i do plenty of thinking about loved ones without reaching out #so it stands to reason it works the other way around #but the thing is i very rarely initiate plans so i know i'm not like inviting one person and never another or whatever #whereas SOMEONE has to be making the plans and i'm virtually never invited #i used to have the luxury of being invited often enough that i didn't have to go to a random hangout if i wasn't up for it #and now it's not like that and i have to say yes when i'm too mentally exhausted. who knows what the physical limitations are gonna be now

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

#first post #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #matheo riddle #pansy parkinson #matheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #had a hard time writing on here #realised it was mattheo and not matheo after completing the whole fic #had to manually copy paste each para into google doc

[radiance1]

So, Ghost Prince Danny. Except that he also, ALSO, is Damian's younger twin brother who was sent to keep an eye on the Fentons because of their discovery of a substance that looked like Lazarus Water yet isn't Lazarus water.

In truth, it was really just Talia's way of getting Danny out of the way because he lost against Damian in the battle of heirs (No Danny did not hold back, Damian was just better than him) and she didn't want him dead so that was the next best thing.

Danny does pop up in the League at odd times, mostly to report about the research done by the Fentons. When he became half dead he's around a lot more, mostly to be monitored for his unique condition (somehow someway they don't know about Vlad) and because Danny can just come and go as he pleases cause ghost powers.

So, Danny gives Damian a flute that he handcrafted himself as a birthday present because really, what can he buy that Damian himself couldn't? Also, because he didn't actually want to spend money on his older brother.

They're brothers, but they don't have the most cordial relationship. They don't hate each other, but they don't like each other either.

So, Damian takes this flute and is like: "Fuck you gimmie this for I don't need this shit."

And then Danny is like: "Just take the gift you stupid ahh fruitloop."

So, Damian takes it while berating that Danny would give him something as stupid as this, but then does a full one 180 by keeping the thing on his person at all times.

Not that Danny knows that, really.

So, cut forth to Damian being known by Batman and taken in. Trying to kill Tim and being an overall little shit, I can see one of the Batfam coming across this flute just, randomly really, and then Damian is fucking pissed that they dared to touch it and then takes it back.

Leaving basically everyone stumped over the significance this random ahh wooden flute has but decides not to touch that landmine.

So then the Batfam don't know that Damian has a half sibling (Danny came from Jack and Talia, so he isn't blood related to Bruce but is to Damian) running around out there and Damian isn't gonna say anything and you already know Talia isn't since Danny AIN'T his kid.

Plus, he got a job to do that being with Bruce Wayne would make harder.

So then Damian becomes robin an allat, then the entire Batfam pull up to the Justice League for some big threat and then both Constantine and Zatanna are like: Yo why do you kid carry round an item drenched heavily in death energy to the extreme

Batman is obviously like: Excuse me?

Damian, meanwhile, just does not give a fuck about the flute given to him by his half-brother on his birthday is apparently drenched in death energy to the extreme because that is his and he isn't going to just give it up.

So then one way or another Damian ends up playing it, maybe he was told to play it by both Batman and Constantine just to make sure it isn't actually anything dangerous or whatever and also because Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold it, let alone play it.

Which Damian smirks at because he's played it before and literally nothing happened aside from very good music, but Damian hasn't played it since he came to the Wayne household and has missed it. So he reminisces over how he got it, thinking of his half-brother and their relationship.

He plays it, but this time, since he genuinely thought about Danny death energy just condenses in waves. Damian couldn't see it since he was too focused on playing and reminiscing, everyone isn't really that calm and tries to get him to stop but the death energy blocks them.

Then a summoning circle appears in front of Damian and Constantine recognizes it as being from the Infinite Realms category and it seemed to be a high-level summon circle too so he's like: Well fuck.

Then, contrary to their expectations of some eldritch abomination, it's just Danny. Who, fun fact, was in the middle of his coronation as prince and such, dripped out in royal wear.

Safe to say, Constatine goes: Well double fuck.

The tension is just broken, as all Danny does is cry. Like, genuinely, he just cries because Damian still kept his flute that he made, he genuinely thought the guy just threw it away since he hated it so much.

Danny: Ancients, my big brother actually liked what I made this is making me emotional.

Damian: Why the hell are you crying this thing is still trash btw.

Danny: Yea whatever you say big bro, you love it.

Batman: What do you mean big brother?

Danny: Who in the hell is that-

Damian: Right, I never told him about you.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #ghost prince danny #demon twins #danny and damian are twins

[surftrips]

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]

first chapter >> last chapter

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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.

All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.

John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 

“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 

You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 

“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”

His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 

Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 

“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 

“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 

It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.

“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”

You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 

Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 

“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”

“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”

“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”

“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 

The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 

He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 

That gets you to zip your lips. 

When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 

A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 

He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 

John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 

Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 

Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 

It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 

“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 

His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.

“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”

“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 

“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 

John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 

And then he’s on you.

He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 

You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 

“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 

“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 

John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  

You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 

“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.

“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”

He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 

The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 

It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 

“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”

You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 

“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 

“I—I’ll—”

“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”

“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”

At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 

Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 

Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 

You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 

“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 

You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 

The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 

He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.

Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 

Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 

It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 

It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 

From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 

When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 

He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 

You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 

When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 

Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 

Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 

Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 

The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  

The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 

Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 

The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 

The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 

When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 

You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 

She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”

You frown. “Gaz?”

“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”

“Way back when?”

“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”

You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”

The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 

The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 

“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.

Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”

“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”

You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”

She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 

“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”

Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 

You nod instead of answering. 

“Did you give it to him?” she asks.

“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 

“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”

Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 

“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 

Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 

“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 

You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 

When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 

If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 

It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 

If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 

You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 

It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 

It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.

“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 

He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 

You understand. It sits under your skin too. 

"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."

Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.

And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price

[libraincarnate]

astrology notes: 19 ☼𓂃𓃗𓂃

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences based on astrology. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!

˚♡₊ pisces & them not knowing if something they remembered was from one of their day dreams or an actual dream they had.

˚♡₊ moon or chiron in the 2nd house can indicate an emotional eater. they can be someone who eats for comfort or just because they're bored.

˚♡₊ virgos are known to be judgmental towards other people & things but they’re judgmental towards themselves as well, being that they typically struggle with perfectionism. for this reason, they probably cringe at themselves and the things they’ve done quite often. they can be quite regretful and hard on themselves when they make a mistake. but virgo, you guys are imperfect just like everyone else who has lived and died. and although it may be easier said than done, breathe, live, and just be. try to view as your mistakes as an opportunity to learn & improve.

˚♡₊ asteroid juno (3) in 4th the house can make people think you’re the type to bring home to meet their mom/family. 

˚♡₊ uranus in the 2nd, 5th, 8th, and 11th house can cause the native to feel frustrated and experience disturbance in those areas of life that are represented by those aforementioned houses. that’s because uranus is a planet that represents constant change and unpredictability & those houses are fixed houses that represent exactly what the name suggests, it’s fixed, it desires stability and regularity.

˚♡₊ capricorns are known to be controlling/bossy but aquarius tends to have those characteristics too. i’ve often seen it happen with their friends, like they can be the leader of the group and tell people what to do or they make decisions for others. i guess it’s the saturn influence since we know that cap is ruled by saturn & aquarius is traditionally ruled by saturn too.

˚♡₊ those with gemini moon are the type to laugh at themselves while they’re crying. and if they’re not, then they’re definitely going through it because it’s often hard for them to take themselves seriously like gemini risings, but in this case it’s more focused on their emotions.

˚♡₊ those with their venus aspecting saturn could be the type that always has a loved one/former loved one, like an ex, coming back even if it’s 6 years later. the person that tries to come back may realize what they had a little too late, they may realize that the loyalty & love you gave them was one of a kind and it’s hard for them to find that same or similar level of stability and commitment elsewhere.

˚♡₊ scorpio risings are lowkey mad funny because of their gemini in the 8th house, but especially if they have planets like sun, mercury, or moon there. & because it’s in the 8th house, it’s not something that many people know about them except for those that are close to them or those they have 8th house synastry with.

^ but when it comes to those with a gem rising or gemini in the 10th house, everyone thinks/knows they’re funny. 

˚♡₊ uranus dominants or those with uranus in aspect to mercury/neptune may really enjoy reading/watching sci-fi & dystopian books/movies or tv shows.

˚♡₊ taurus moons are typically blessed with the ability to remain calm & grounded but their emotions can be a bit stubborn and linger for a while. it may take some time for them to get over a breakup or separation from someone they really love.

˚♡₊ those with chiron, pluto, or mercury retrograde in the 5th house could have stage fright. they may dislike doing presentations in school or at work. if they have to do something in the presence of others they’d rather it be in a group. but even if they are in a group, like a small choir, they’d prefer to stand in the back or behind others.

˚♡₊ the house where aries falls in your chart can show you the type of men you usually attract:

in the 1st house, if you’re a girl you may attract men who you’d describe as the male version of you, or men who are childish or younger than you.

in the 3rd house it could be your classmates, those in your neighborhood, or those that you see as more of a brother, even if they’re not related to you. for this reason, you may be quick to friend zone them.

in the 6th house it could be the men at your place of work who are always hitting on you or trying to flirt. or men that have an unexplainable desire to take care of you, they may see you as a damsel in distress.

in the 10th house it could be older men who are already established or successful. maybe you easily attract sugar daddies or men that just want to provide for you whether that be money, opportunities, or guidance.

in the 11th house your male friends may be the ones crushing on you or you attract men from all walks of life, meaning you might be "everyone's" type. even if you're not the type that some of these men may usually go for, they could be willing to ignore that when it comes to you.

in the 12th house you may have a lot of secret admirers and men that often day dream about you but won't tell you.

the attraction could be stronger or more noticeable with planets/asteroids like venus, mars, or eros in aries. & due to the characteristics of aries, these men may find you intimidating and they could be a bit scared to approach you at first, or they could come on to you a bit aggressively, or they just try too hard to get your attention.

˚♡₊ libras are the type to ask you if they should wear this or that, just to choose the opposite of what you chose or they’ll go and ask someone else 😂. sometimes another person’s input is helpful & sometimes it only makes them even more indecisive.

if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astrology notes #astro notes #astrology observations #astro observations #libraincarnate

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #56

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.7k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Your trip is slowly but surely coming to an end. 

Minus some bumps along the way, it's safe to say you had a great time either way. You and Jungkook have managed to talk like proper adults and it went well. But most importantly, you've made up. It is sad there's goodbyes soon to be said. You kind of wish you could stay here for at least another day.

But all of you have to go back to adult life. The weight is lifted off your chest, practically non-exist as you and Jungkook share a soft smile while all of you pack your things. Well – except Taehyung who's sitting on one of the portable chairs with sunglasses on, too hungover to help his best friend who's been complaining for the past ten minutes. 

"I take it you finally made up." Maya comes up to you, folding up a thin blanket when there's no one nearby. 

"We finally talked." you answer. 

She surely notices the relaxation behind your tone and features, causing her to smile knowingly instead of saying anything for a moment. 

"And? How did it go?" 

"Good. Great, actually. I explained myself well and we both had something to apologize for. It's not even about the apology. I think us talking is more important and even though I was pretty scared and unsure to just walk up to him and talk, I'm glad I got it off my chest." 

"Being honest is not always easy but I knew you guys would work it out. From what I heard, your friendship has always been strong." Maya grins. 

"How do you know that?" 

"Namjoon," she chuckles simply. "But that doesn't matter. Even I can confidently say it's true. And I haven't known you for too long and I solely know this just from seeing you and him, plus hearing you talk about him." 

You avert your gaze to the ground, your shy smile causing you to feel even more shy when you feel her eyes on you. 

"I'm jealous though. The sex after such an argument is gonna be amazing." 

And just like that, the air shifts and your gaze snaps toward blunt Maya who's already grinning, expecting your reaction of shock and disbelief. 

"Yeah, that's not happening." You cringe, muttering. 

"You don't want to? Wow, I mean—shit." Maya's the one who's shocked which has you snickering under your breath. She's unbelievable. 

"Not that I don't want to, but we've decided to take a break from... the sex part." 

"And whose stupid idea that was?" she exclaims, a laugh escaping from your lips the moment you see her face while she dramatically leaves her mouth open. 

"Mine." 

"That explains it." 

"Hey!" 

She laughs, letting you know she's only joking. 

"I thought it would be for the best. I can't really explain it. I just think it's time for a break."

You're not going to tell her he fucked you in the woods while you both were unable to communicate together and were pissed off at each other. While you don't find it uncomfortable to be talking with her about your sex life, there are some things that are better left between you and Jungkook only. It's not like you're embarrassed about it but it feels too personal and intimate to talk about it openly. In the end, just like you told Jungkook, you wanted it at that moment and you don't regret it happening. He was right when he said the sex was good. It always is. 

But anyway... you two hooking up surely changed a few things between you and him. You let lust control you and while you believe sex like this doesn't necessarily have to mean a bad thing, you wonder how else would you solve it if you weren't hooking up. 

It's all frustrating and it seems like there are a few things you can't answer because it's that confusing. And you don't understand them. 

It might sound all dramatic but it's nothing like that. It's no big deal. You'll continue your friendship the same way and the only difference will be sex. You can't think about it too much, knowing once your hormones get the best out of you, you're going to have a hard time accepting your own idea. 

"What about you guys? Are you ready to go back home?" 

Maya groans, tilting her head back as she nods. "Yeah, I could do another day here. Though we've got a wedding to plan." 

"Do you know what month it's gonna be?" 

"We don't. We're about to make some calls and meet up with a few people to see which place is closest to our terms. I'm excited, don't get me wrong, but it's so stressful to plan everything. We definitely want it to happen this year after having a conversation. But summer is pretty much all booked everywhere, unless we want some unaesthetic and cheap place." 

She sighs before smiling. 

"But it's okay. Joon is a huge help and he's very much involved. We're doing everything together." 

"That's great. Let me know if there's anything I can help with. I'm not sure how I'd be able to help, I know shit about weddings but just call me if there's anything I could do." 

Maya gives you an appreciative smile. "You're a sweetheart." 

With a smile on your face, you start folding a sleeping bag which you're sure belongs to Yoongi, who (surprisingly) is cleaning up the truck of his car so everything is neat and good to go. You're unaware of Maya's stare that's aimed behind you until she speaks up. 

"A stupid sweetheart if you decided not to fuck him." 

"What?" you mumble, following her eyes. 

There he is. 

Jungkook stops his task to grasp the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and dabbing the tiny droplets of sweat covering his forehead. That wouldn't be the issue if he didn't expose his abs to everyone's eyes – even though only you and Maya are staring – showing his bulky chest. Dryly gulping, you quickly turn around and nudge Maya to look away. 

She gives you a knowing look, offering you a friendly pat to your shoulder as you click your tongue in annoyance. 

They're just abs. Ones you've seen multiple times. You're fine. 

You're going to be fine.  

You still rush to pack your things, not even glancing in Jungkook's direction. Too scared to see him doing bare minimum and look absolutely hot while doing it. 

Everything went back to normal. Well, new normal.

Yoongi acts like he hasn't spent a whole weekend with you, still patiently waiting for his lunch every day. Even on the way back home, he barely said a word and hummed quietly to his playlist. Surprisingly, you took a decent nap, catching up the lost sleep you experienced the night before. 

After four days of constantly buying Yoongi a lunch, you regret ever inviting him more and more each day. The man demands his lunch, holding you up to your deal. Are you surprised? No. Were you hoping he would leave you alone after a few days? Yes . 

The group chat is full of memes and possibly dates to hang out again, reminding you of your supposedly summer vacation. After the camping trip, you're a little bit more wary to plan something longer and serious than just a casual hangout. It's pretty stupid. One argument shouldn't hold you back from experiencing new memories with your friends. 

You and Jungkook haven't really spoken since the camping trip. You got to say a warm goodbye and ever since then, both of you have been too busy jumping back to your lives to talk. You know you're fine though. In your friends group chat, you've replied to one another a few times – mostly reacting to the memes or just to joke around. So far, there's not much change in your relationship with Jungkook. It feels pretty same and you know it's only because you haven't had the time to hang out and be alone. Is it stupid of you to say that you're a little bit nervous when that time comes? 

However, it eventually comes just when you anticipate it and you don't avoid it. This has been your idea after all. 

You and Jungkook text back and forth, this time in a separate chat without prying eyes of Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook's days and evenings are fully packed. There's not much time to hang out typically at your or his place – which again might be dangerous and too soon for you. You're being dramatic, that's for sure. But once he comes up with a plan, for some reason you agree even if his plan is the least common place to hang out for you and him.

Stepping inside the building, you're surprisingly met with a nice scent of freshness instead of sweat and testosterone. The gym Jungkook visits is certainly popular and modern, based on the fully packed gym and its interior that has a sweat already rolling down your back. 

“This is most certainly new.” you mutter, eyes wide staring around you as Jungkook cackles, leading you toward the front desk. 

There, of course, is a young female receptionist wearing a cropped tank top with leggings as if she's the one that's about to work out. Once again, Jungkook's often visit here shows when she easily recognizes him and both drops formality, which you don't expect.

While Jungkook goes to equip your gym access after you greet each other with the receptionist, you silently standby and listen to their conversation. You're aware of Jungkook's membership here and judging by the clear sight of the receptionist recognizing and knowing him, he doesn't have to show anything to prove his identity.

“Are you interested in getting a trainer for this session?” she asks, eyes jumping between you and Jungkook. 

“No.” You and him speak at the same time.

Nodding, she clicks off a few things on the computer before she says the price for a single access which has your eyes almost falling out their sockets. You and Jungkook both pull out your wallets. Desperately trying to beat him, you're too late as he pulls out his card sooner and pays.

“I could've paid for myself.” you point out, pursing your lips in a mere annoyance. Can't lie though. Your heart surely feels lighter knowing you haven't had to pay such a price for a full hour and half of torture.

Suddenly, Jungkook's plan doesn't seem that good at all. You would very much test your willpower back at his or your place. 

“I know you could've.” he sings out annoyingly, leaving you to roll your eyes at him as he thanks the woman, leading you away. “It was my idea, I know this gym is a bit pricey and you're not exactly the type to spend money on something like this.”

“Yah!” you nudge him, met with a toothy grin as he teasingly nudges you back. “What are you saying? Maybe I'll enjoy working out. I should work on those muscles.”

You and him share a look, grinning at each other after cracking up a few moments later, knowing very well he's right and you're full of shit. Working out is not exactly your priority. You have enough exercise when working, constantly on your feet all day. Not mentioning how much you walk and sometimes rush to get Yoongi his fucking lunch. But well, that's completely on you. It's a nice reminder to never do that again. To involve him in your stupid plans. 

While Jungkook leads you to the gym equipment (you're sure he would know his way around blindfolded), you're trying your best not to stare at all those muscular and slim people around you. Damn, you're really out of place right now. They all seem to know what they're doing. 

“You wanna lift some weights?” Jungkook asks, tossing down water bottles and two towels he grabbed from home for you and him. “Wait, you did some stretching before coming here, right?”

When he's met with silence, he looks up just to see your brow raised with a frown on your lips. He sighs, disapprovingly and not very subtly shaking his head as he mutters your name.

“I got into this bizarre outfit right after I got from work!” you exclaim, pointing at yourself. 

You tried your best, alright? A simple black leggings and an oversized shirt. It's definitely not the hottest outfit you would often see on Instagram of some fitness model, or just most women who work out and want to look nice. But who cares?

“And I don't ever stretch. Nobody's got time for that.” you mutter.

Jungkook snickers, some of his hair falling and shielding his forehead as he sits down on the bench. “You should stretch every morning, regardless if you work out or not.”

He used to stretch your muscles in other ways.

Oops –intrusive thoughts!

“Alright, alright.” You roll your eyes at him which has him laughing. 

“Okay, do some basic stretching while I do some lifting.” Already seeing your disapproving face, he continues. “Trust me, you're gonna thank me later.”

“But you said you would go easy on me!”

He did say that. In fact, he doesn't plan to destroy you on your first proper work out session. And probably the last because who knows? You're unpredictable sometimes.

But instead of calming down your nerves, he lies down but not before shooting you a smirk. “When have I ever?”

He starts lifting the heavy weight, pressing his lips tightly as he occasionally groans, some of them taking you far away from the gym. Still standing there, you dryly gulp and wonder, why the fuck you haven't invited him over instead? Suddenly, it sounds way more safer than this for numerous reasons. 

Jeon Jungkook is coming for your neck. 

All he does is the same thing he would’ve done if you weren’t here. He’s focused, checking on you to see if you’re really stretching your muscles like he has advised you from time to time. While he’s oblivious to your inner thoughts and how much you’re actually trying to ignore the way his muscles tense and flex during his workout, he makes sure to give you a stern look every time he sees you flaking. 

He would’ve been a stern trainer, that’s for sure. 

One thing about him is that he takes his job and hobbies very seriously. He doesn’t like when people fuck around — maybe that’s why he’s so opposed to take Taehyung to workout with him. You’re clear Taehyung would enjoy being here just as much as some of the female audience clearly enjoy watching Jungkook. Obviously, he would not enjoy them eyeing and salivating over him, but rather appreciate the clear attention because you know they would eye Taehyung just as much. 

But Jungkook stays focused on himself, partly focused on you while you’ve been stretching your legs for the past five minutes until Jungkook reminds you to switch and stretch other parts with breathless voice. 

Once he finishes, he sits up and takes a short break as he watches you with an amused expression, sparkles dancing in his dark brown eyes. 

“What?” you huff out. “Am I doing it wrong?” 

“No,” he laughs. “I just never thought I’d see the day of you working out.” 

Straightening up, you flip him off with a sarcastic smile which allows him to laugh even more. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not working out yet.” 

After a minute, you stop stretching feeling like you’ve done a decent job. Met with Jungkook’s gaze, you purse your lips. 

“You know… we could’ve gone to a cinema or do something instead.” 

“Complaining already?” he asks amusingly, resting his arm over his thigh as he manspreads himself. 

Are you? It definitely sounds like it and to be honest, you're not sure. You thought spending time with him just hanging out would be a great opportunity to get your friendship back to the old ways. Even though there was a thought in the back of your mind of how that was going to go when you simply imagined Jungkook's sweaty body. You've had the opportunity to see him working out at his place and even back then, you had an awful time trying not to gawk at him. 

With the never-ending thoughts, you grow more upset at yourself. Jungkook is one fine piece of man and that's definitely not how you only see him. He's much more than that. When you look at him, you see him . Not just the physically attractive side of him. Not the way those girls are still eyeing him shamelessly. 

Although, you're not complaining for a reason Jungkook might think. You're not the athletic type like him, he knows that – hell, everyone knows it around you. Or perhaps, it's the tiny bit of this reason too. This is what you wanted. 

Perhaps you made things more dramatic and serious than they have to be. Looking at Jungkook, seeing his toothy grin he sends your way while he's completely oblivious to your inner (and annoying) thoughts, some of the weight lifts off your chest. 

“Not at all.” you assure him, ignoring his knowing look but luckily, he doesn't call you out on your bluff. 

“Come on, maybe we should do some cardio now. Get you heated up a little.”

Don't worry, you already took care of it, you think as you nod with a tight smile, following him across the room. 

Jungkook sets up the treadmill for you, setting up a manageable pace for you before he joins you. 

While music hits of this year blasts through the speakers, he advises you to focus on your breathing before he informs you you're going to do a few miles. Jungkook is keeping up with you, not sticking to his usual routine and for that, you're grateful. It feels nice to do the same thing together, just being in each other's presence even though there's not much time to actually have a conversation. 

After a while, you notice the same women who were shamelessly watching Jungkook the entire time since they noticed him, join you on the treadmills. Scoffing a little under your breath, you glance at Jungkook who's too focused to even notice anything. 

As you open your mouth to comment on it in front of him, Jungkook is in his own world as he suddenly tugs his shirt over his head before he tosses it over the handrail. That's when he must sense your prominent eyes on him as he glances your way.

“Seriously?”

“It's getting hot.” he explains, shrugging as he continues totally unbothered. 

Huffing out, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair that has managed to get out of your ponytail. “You're aware of your fanclub here, right?”

“What?” Jungkook breathes out, shooting you a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

You snicker, “There are like three women who have been eyeing you since the moment they spotted you. They even followed us here, so they could stare .” you inform him amusingly, shaking your head when you see his frowned expression. “Oh come on. Don't tell me you're not aware. It probably happens every time you come here.”

You're not dumb and neither is Jungkook. He's definitely not clueless how many female gazes he catches (sometimes even male).

“I wasn't aware of them . But yeah, it happens.” he admits almost shyly, clearing his throat.

You trace his tattooed arm with your eyes for a moment, before saying: “Has anyone hit on you while you were working out?”

“Y/N!” he exclaims, sounding almost scandalized by your blunt question. “I said focus on your breathing.”

Is Jeon Jungkook being flustered? It only spurs you on and spreads your cheeky grin even wider. “Oh, so you do get hit on.”

Jungkook huffs, “Yeah, it happens sometimes.”

Hm, sometimes. You're not sure if you believe that. 

“How fast?”

“What is this?” Jungkook laughs, “Are you interrogating me?”

“Just curious.”

You really are. You haven't experienced being at the gym with him before. It's fascinating how he behaves here. Not that he's different or something, but it is quite interesting to witness this part of his life.

He sighs when she spots your curious gaze and the cheeky grin, rolling his eyes at you before he huffs out his response. “It usually happens by now. But you're here with me, so I'm guessing that's what holds them back.”

Why is that not surprising? Instead of feeling anything negative, you find that fact amusing and it makes you chuckle. “Oh, should I leave? Give them a chance to come here?” you joke, laughing even more when you see Jungkook's glare.

“You're annoying.”

In the midst of your laughing, you notice him cracking a grin which he has tried to hide. Your body feels lighter, despite your muscles growing tired already, but the moment between you lingers. This is how it felt before. Just you and him – teasing each other. 

Turning off the treadmill sooner than you should've (after hoping you've clicked the right button), you take the small towel Jungkook has brought you and wipe your forehead. You bite back the laugh that wants to come out when you see Jungkook's suspicious stare.

“Scared I'm gonna leave?” you tease, causing him to huff out as he cuts off his run and turns off the equipment. 

“Don't you dare.” he says, wiping his own sweat as he grabs the bottle of water and takes a few gulps. 

While his head is tilted back, throat bobbing at the way he gulps, you find yourself eyeing his buffed out chest. You don't expect to see Jungkook's eyes on you as soon as you look away from the amount of naked flesh, cheeks heating up immediately as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“Stop teasing me.” he simply says, moving closer as he drapes his towel over his shoulder.

“Are you sure I'm the one that's teasing?” you ask silently, eyes flickering down to his chest again as he chuckles. 

“I always tend to take off my shirt. I promise I'm not teasing.”

You believe that. Jungkook doesn't owe you an explanation and after all, you do know very well he prefers to be as naked as possible. Looking around, you spot a few guys shirtless as well and it's not that unusual to see the extra skin here.

“Perhaps you could control yourself a little, you know, around me.” you say with a cheeky tone, pointing at his body as he plays your game, humming while nodding.

And then he does something unexpected. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, feeling the softness of it as it feels like he prints his fingertip to the skin he tasted many times before. “You wanted the break, remember?”

The way he drops his tone but still keeps it light and teasing causes your heartbeat to pick up its pace. Stop, stop, stop . Hearing the warnings and red lights going on in your head, you stay rooted in your spot as Jungkook drops his hand, lips twitching. 

He's not oblivious when it comes to you though. He can tell your single body language or expression from miles away. 

“Perhaps you're the one who needs to control yourself a little.” And then he's patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. 

He walks away, laughing and fully content at your speechless appearance, ushering to continue in your routine as you mindlessly follow him. But not before sending a small glare toward Jungkook's fanclub, seeing them whispering among themselves. 

Surprisingly, things go back to normal and there's no teasing happening after that. While your heart still beats a little faster than it should've – and it's definitely not from working out and following Jungkook's instructions – the lingering tension is almost not there. Jungkook is back to being serious, showing you the right way to do things when needed and you listen obediently, doing an actual good job at it. Even if he's back in your mind during all of that, you find yourself to be distracted enough to enjoy your time here. And just you and him hanging out. 

Hour and a half passes quickly. Quicker than you previously thought it would. You get separated when it's time to take a shower and change clothes. Jungkook is finished soon, waiting for you at the reception (no surprise) as he's chatting with the receptionist again. Once he sees you done, he bids a goodbye and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“So, what are you saying? Are you gonna be my workout partner?” he teases, the two of you walking out of the building as he leads you to his parked car. 

All you can muster to do in response is to let out an awkward chuckle. “I would rather not.”

For obvious reasons. 

Tossing the packaged food, beef burger and big fries precisely, onto the desk, you watch the bane of your existence slowly turn his chair in your direction as he makes sure you see his well amused and annoying grin. Delivering him a huge sarcastic and tight smile, you hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and choke him.

Min Yoongi has been nothing but a big menace. The worst thing is that you can't really complain because you agreed to it. 

Today, he requested to get a burger with fries for his lunch. The closest place is around twenty minutes from your workplace by a car, so you spent most of your lunchbreak getting his fucking burger, waiting for them to prepare it and then driving back. Your bank account is slowly starting to cry. Or is that you ? 

“Why thank you.” he beams sarcastically, sniffling the air around him as he leans closer to the packed meal, only spurring your annoyance for sure. 

“It's not like I had a choice.” you remind him sweetly. 

“A deal is a deal.” he sings out, the sound of you taking a deep breath causing his lips to twitch. 

You don't give him the joy of begging him, or even trying to talk him out of this. After all, he's not wrong. You like to think of it as your punishment for making a stupid decision. Overall, it wasn't that bad and for that, you're glad. Yoongi (surprisingly) got along with the guys and for what could be assumed a weak moment, he even told you he was enjoying the time there. It was certainly a weak moment on your part when you allowed yourself to cry in front of Min Yoongi. Somehow, you managed to convince him to hug you. The awkward hug makes you cringe till this day and you're sure Yoongi feels the same. However, he seemed to have his own weak moments for sure. Why else would he ever assure you that he did have a good time? Min Yoongi is not all bad, deep down you know that. 

“So how are things with your boyfriend?” He starts unpacking his meal, the scent filling the room as the office is yet to be filled with your colleagues. Most of them haven't gotten back from their lunch breaks, but that will soon change as it's supposed to end in five minutes. Unless they don't want Junho to come for their asses and spend the rest of the day listening to him complaining. 

“Good?” you ask confusingly. “Since when do you care?”

“I don't, but today has been boring as fuck.” he says simply, taking the first bite of the hamburger you paid for. You ignore the way your mouth salivates. You've managed to eat fries on your way here – something Jungkook would surely scold you for. He wouldn't approve of you eating while driving. Good thing he doesn't know. 

“I told you I'm not here for your amusement, Min.” you remind him.

“Back to last name basis? I thought we're closer than that after our weekend together.” he says loud enough for Benjamin to hear who's passing by, your cheeks flaring hot as he gives you both a weird look, luckily continuing his way toward the breakroom, you assume. 

“Our weekend? First of all, ew,” You cringe, erupting a laugh from him as his cheeks are puffed out with the hamburger. “And seriously? Do you really want rumors to start going around?”

“Nobody would believe I would go for you, relax.” he scoffs while your jaw drops to the floor. Once you collect yourself, you sit yourself on the edge of his desk.

“You did go for me once, as far as I can remember. And if I remember correctly, you did tell me my pu–”

“We don't talk about that.” he cuts you off abruptly, worth enough for you to say the words aloud when seeing his reaction as he looks flustered of you bringing it up. 

It's not like you wanted to, he didn't give you a chance.

“Me and my boyfriend are doing great though. How about you? Have you found yourself a suitable partner that is willing to keep up with your ass?” 

Yoongi chokes on his spit, trying his best for the food to stay in his mouth and that's when you know your job is done. 

“Enjoy your meal, Yoongi.” you tell him sweetly, getting off his desk and walking away with a triumphal grin. 

The rest of your day goes smoothly, even when you haven't had a proper lunch but your latest interaction with Yoongi just brightens up your whole day. The look on his face and the little frown he made sure you see just made your day. And you made sure to let him know that. Not even Benjamin giving you a weird look very subtly could make you ruin your day.

That's how you've felt until you get inside your apartment building, knowing you have to change your clothes and freshen up before the guys come here. Taehyung is still at work and you're pretty sure so is Jimin, so you have a little bit of time before their arrival. Just as you're putting your phone back inside your purse, you lift your gaze to greet the neighbor just for you to let out an audible gasp. One that gets the attention of the very last person you've expected to see. 

In full glory, your ex-boyfriend stands a few doors away as he looks up, surely hearing you before his own eyes widen and mouth opens in surprise. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out, surprised just as much as you are.

“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter, not dropping your eyes off Haneul. 

He hasn't changed, yet he seems different than the last time you saw him. He's sober this time for sure but that's not what you meant. At the sight of him, you're reminded of the moments you've spent together. Still shocked to see him, Haneul carefully walks closer.

“I–uh, my friend moved here. I was just visiting him, I didn't know you live here, I swear.”

The little panicked tone and expression on his face makes your features soften. The last encounter you had with him wasn't a pleasant one. You've had enough reasons to stay mad at him. And maybe a tiny part of you still is because of his own mistake. You wouldn't like to go back to it though. You've talked since then and you ended that chapter in your life. But still. Seeing him in front of you, looking panicked and careful like a lost puppy makes you feel bad for some reason. 

He has gained weight. Not lots of it but he looks… bigger and buff, though his cheekbones and jaw are more prominent.  He's wearing jeans, a simple white shirt with a patterned overshirt over it. He looks… good. Even his hair is darker and longer. That's what reminds you of the last time you've seen him. 

“It's okay,” you assure him slowly, not quite sure what to say. “I'm just surprised to see you here.”

“So am I,” he says, his features turning alarmed once again as he quickly jumps to elaborate. “I mean I'm surprised to see you here too. I really didn't know you live here.”

“It's fine.” you chuckle a little. You know how weird it must be for him too. Since the last time he assured you he wasn't stalking you, and based on his body language and expression right now, you're aware that he is actually scared of you to think otherwise. 

He's nervous. You're actually surprised that you can tell even after all these months.

“I never thought I would see you again,” he says softly. “I–do you have a minute?”

Frowning automatically, you look around and shift on your spot. He is not oblivious to your evident uncertainty and perhaps discomfort, his face saddening. 

“It won't be long. I just want to tell you something. It's been haunting me ever since… ever since the last time I saw you. I understand if you don't want to but…” he trails off, scratching his temple.

Looking back and forth between your apartment's door, you hesitate for a moment. For one, you're still shocked to see him here. To see him standing just a few feet away from you, looking at you in a total hope as he pleads with his eyes. 

Do you want him inside your place? It sounds too… intimate. Your place is private. To have him there out of all people… you're not sure how to feel about it. But one thing is sure, you definitely don't want to have this conversation in the hallway where anyone could hear you. 

“Let's take it inside, this is not a proper place to have any conversation.” you decide to say, slow with your movements as you move to tap your code and open the door. 

“Are you sure? I don't wanna overstep.”

Looking across your shoulder, you find him staring into the distance to avoid looking at your code to give you some privacy. That alone makes you feel safer because you know he wouldn't hurt you. Whatever happened back at the club… it was a mess but that shouldn't define all of him.

Still, you create a distance between you and him, still making sure he sees your hardened gaze as you invite him inside. 

“We can just talk here,” he says as soon as he closes the front door. “We don't have to go further.” He proposes.

Taking off your shoes, you cross your arms over your chest before leaning against the wall. “Okay, then talk.”

For a moment, he seems to be lost at words. But once you cock your brow at him, he shakes himself out of it and fumbles over his words. You're patient though, waiting for him to say whatever he needs to.

“I don't remember much from our last… from the last time I saw you. I mean–I do remember bits of it but I was too wasted to remember or even know what I was doing. I never reached out to you, not that I didn't want to, but I thought it's better if I didn't,”

You give him a look, raising your brow again as if to tell him that he's damn right .

“Listen, I don't wanna take any more of your time or bother you. I owe you a big apology, I shouldn't have ever cornered you like that. I was drunk and out of my mind. I still wasn't over our break-up and when I saw you–I lost it, I drank too much and I had no control over myself and for that, I'm ashamed.”

Squeezing your forearms subtly, you just stare at him before you sigh. “I was drunk too. I almost let you kiss me. And I probably would've if…” Jungkook didn't get between you two. 

 Haneul knows that, nodding understandably. 

“I never had a peace of mind after that. I was dumb and irresponsible. I still wasn't over the first love as they say.”

You stand up straight, arms still crossed. “I do hope you find your happiness.”

“Can I ask you something?” He tries, waiting for your nod. Once he gets it, he takes a breath and opens his mouth again. “How did you get over it?”

“Time,” you say as he nods, knowing that must be his answer as well. “And I had my friends too.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he looks away as he nods. He knows who is included in your friend's circle and his very subtly annoyed reaction proves it. Jealousy is what got you into this mess in the first place. Who knows where you two would be if it weren't for the entire argument that took place during winter. 

“Um, well thank you for giving me a chance to apologize in person. I really needed that and I appreciate it.”

You nod. You could tell him that you hope he truly moved on. That he deserves happiness too and he shouldn't beat himself over his past mistakes too much. Or that you hope he matured into the right person because deep down, you know he's not bad. He had hurt you and you never expected it from him, but looking at you now, you've moved on faster than he has. He is still here, has waited for his moment to apologize again and you appreciate that. But to create more distance and avoid unnecessary affection, you stay quiet. Something tells you it's better this way. 

Perhaps you're being harsh. Or just reasonable and smart. 

Who knows.

He opens his door and you follow him, ready to say the final goodbye which doesn't necessarily mean you won't ever say hi again if you see each other in person. Knowing now that one of his friends lives here, there might be times when you see each other again. But there's no longer any connection there. You won't stay friends like you could've. You think it could only mess with his head.

Once you look up, you wonder why Haneul hasn't stepped out yet only to find Jungkook standing on the opposite side of the door, a prominent frown and glare framing his face.

“What the fuck.”

Getting in between them, you pull Jungkook inside as he spares you a short glance before his eyes don't leave Haneul's figure. You get Jungkook behind you and as Haneul gets the clue, he steps out of your place. 

“Thanks again.” he murmurs, trying not to glare too much at Jungkook who's still standing behind you. 

Giving Haneul one final nod and silent goodbye, you watch his figure retrieve as you let out a big sigh.

“What was he doing here?” Jungkook asks, breathlessly almost getting worked up at seeing Haneul here. 

It's not like you blame him. Haneul wasn't on his best behavior the last time he saw him. And before that too. 

“His friend moved here and we bumped into each other.”

“Great.” he states sarcastically, taking off his sneakers as he gives you a stern look which makes you innocently shrug before closing the door.

“He wanted to apologize.”

“And you let him inside your apartment? Jesus, Y/N.” He rubs his forehead, causing you to shrug.

“He was drunk at that time, Kook. He wouldn't hurt me.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do know that!” you argue, watching his brow raise as you retrieve a little, nibbling on your lip. 

Okay, maybe you don't know that. Haneul has proved himself to be… unexpected. But you don't think he would go far as to hurt you.

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes as he leans his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second. He walks up to you, expression softening. “Y/N, baby,” He cups your cheek to make you look at him. You dryly gulp, having him this close to you after a long time. “We both know sometimes you can get upset and with a guy like him, you don't know how he's gonna react.” 

You do know what he means. Sometimes you can't control your mouth. But that's the last thing on your mind, not with him so close and calling you– “Baby,” You crack a grin. “We're on a break, remember?”

Jungkook huffs out a laugh, dropping his hands as you try to ignore the mere disappointment by that simple action. “Sorry.”

“I liked it.” you silently confess. 

He lifts up his gaze, mouth opening slightly before hard knocks behind you causes you to flinch. That breaks a moment as you see Taehyung's close up face on the display next to your door right after a ringbell can be heard, the system turning on the camera automatically. Jimin is behind him, nudging his head out of the camera. Snickering, you open the door as the lock unclicks and you're met with your friends face to face.

“What's up fuckers? What's the commotion about?” Taehyung cackles, tossing his sneakers off as Jimin sighs and shakes his head at evidently very active Taehyung. 

“Ignore him. He had a few drinks after work with his co-workers.”

“I was celebrating!”

“You celebrate a lot then.” Jimin mutters, ignoring Taehyung's glare before his sharp eyes stop on you two. 

“Commotion? What were you talking about?”

“We heard your voices when we got out of the elevator.” Taehyung answers you. 

“Were you listening behind the door, Kim Taehyung?” you exclaim, shooting him a disapproving look as he gasps and shakes his head, clearly offended by the suggestion. As if that couldn't happen when it comes to him. 

“We really weren't. We just heard voices because surprisingly, this fucker here was quiet the whole time on the elevator and even after we got out of it. We couldn't hear much. Taehyung is just as dramatic as always.”

“I was just joking, jesus. And who you're calling fucker?” 

You roll your eyes. “You just called us fuckers.” you point out, everyone going further down your apartment as you turn on the lights since you haven't had the chance to go fully inside. 

Taehyung just innocently shrugs. “But what's with the faces?”

“Y/N had her ex-boyfriend over.” Jungkook shrugs, your head snapping toward his direction as everyone in the room gasps. 

Jimin and Taehyung stare at you as if you were caught in a lie, their mouths open as their asses drop down onto your couch at the same time. The scenario is funny and you would surely laugh at them if it weren't for their disapproving and scandalized looks.

“Ex-boyfriend as the slut shaming asshole?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes at you as you sigh.

“It wasn't exactly that, thanks a lot Jungkook,” you point at him, just as he shrugs in return before making himself comfortable in your chair. “His friend lives here, on the same floor I assume. We bumped into each other and he wanted to talk.”

“And you invited him here?” Jimin asks, frowning as you sigh just as Jungkook butts in.

“That's what I said!”

“I–” You stop for a second, rubbing your nose before sitting down on the arm rest, close to Taehyung. “I didn't wanna talk about it in the hallway. You guys didn't see him–” They start rolling their eyes and muttering a bunch of disapprovals before you quickly add. “He seriously just wanted to apologize for the last time. I gave him that choice and I'm unharmed. I'm okay. See?”

“You better be.” Taehyung warns. Jimin nods, agreeing. 

“You guys act like he physically harmed me. He's not that violent.” you inform them. 

As much as you appreciate their protective nature, you know Haneul is not the type to harm you physically. They all make it seem like that and you do think maybe they're a bit overprotective in this manner. 

“And I'm perfectly fine to tell him to fuck off.”

“Sometimes that's not enough. Sometimes that can cause more harm than you think.” Taehyung reminds you.

“Yeah, sorry Y/N but Tae's right.” Jimin agrees.

“You never know how any guy can react when they're mad.”

“You guys are being dramatic now.”

“Maybe, but better be safe than sorry.” Jungkook mutters. His elbow is resting against the armrest, fingers nibbling on his bottom lip as he gives you a stern look. 

“Kook's right,” Taehyung agrees. “Wait–Jungkook, you saw him? Was there a fight I missed?”

You snicker, “There was no fight, Tae because there wasn't a need for one.”

He disappointedly leans back with a pout. 

“He left peacefully. Said what he wanted to say and he's gone.”

“I hope you're not planning to see him again.” Jimin wonders, giving you a suspicious look as you stutter over your words, shocked at his suspicion while Taehyung snaps his head toward you, already ready to react.

“Why would she? God, don't be stupid to get back to him, Y/N.”

“Oh my god!” You shake your head, stopping him right away. “First of all, no one is getting back with anyone. I'm not interested in him like that, not that it's any of your business.” You tell them sternly, looking at every one of them, met with frowning Jungkook and then a second after, with the same looking Jimin and Taehyung. 

“We're just worried about you, that's all. But Jimin-ah, she has Jungkook now, right?” Taehyung teases.

“I appreciate the concern, but I'm not that dumb. And please stop bringing up me and Kook. We're not… doing that anymore.”

“What?!”

“You're not?”

Their reaction comes at the same time, bouncing against the wall of your small living room as the duo glance at Jungkook who nods in confirmation. 

You weren't exactly planning on telling them, in fact you and Jungkook never talked about telling anyone but that's simply because there was no need to. As always, that's between you and Jungkook. But now it seems like a good thing to inform them since Taehyung practically assumes you and Jungkook are hooking up. And despite his obvious shock and almost disappointment, his mouth frowns as Jimin suspiciously eyes you and Jungkook.

You don't tell them that you took a break. It's almost embarrassing to admit that you want to continue hooking up with Jungkook. Firstly, you want to focus on hanging out with him only. It seems fresh and nice, despite all the difficulties you have to go through every day.

“So you're no longer hooking up?”

“Who's dumb idea that was?” Taehyung exclaims as Jimin clicks his tongue at him.

“So you're just… friends? Everything went back to normal?” he asks, staring at you before focusing his eyes on Jungkook this time as he nods. 

“Do we have to talk about this?” Jungkook asks. “It's not like you discuss your sex life with me.”

“Well–”

“Not you, Tae.” Jungkook cuts him off, causing you to snicker. “But yes, she's telling the truth. Can we move on? I seriously don't wanna talk about my sex life.”

“The lack of right now.” Taehyung snickers, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at him. 

Everyone knows that if Jungkook wanted to get his dick wet, he could do it anytime. The difference is that he's not that type of person and it's something he and Taehyung don't share. Minus Jimin since he's in a relationship now which still blows your mind to be honest. 

“I'm glad you guys got some sense after all.” Jimin says, leaning back as he makes himself more comfortable.

You and Jungkook share a look, your breath close to hitching once you spot those dark brown eyes from the distance, as you give Jimin a smile. One that you hope doesn't look nervous just as much as you seem.

“What about Greece?” Taehyung asks, filling up the thoughtful silence. 

Luckily, for your and Jungkook's sake, the topic of your sex-life is no longer discussed – even though you know Taehyung is itching to know more details. Each of you has their phone in their hands, searching for the right destination for your first proper friend vacation. 

There have been a few suggestions, though you have to stay realistic. And all of you got bills to pay. 

“Won't that be more expensive?” Jimin questions, not quite sold on the latest suggestion.

“Not necessarily. We can always check.” he responds, shrugging. 

“And what about Hawaii? Many Koreans visit it, it's familiar and kinda verified if that makes sense.” Jimin says.

“Hawaii sounds nice.” Jungkook hums.

“Oh–Hawaii! Let's go to Hawaii!” Taehyung says excitedly, straightening himself off the sofa as you laugh at his sudden excitement. “I saw this TikTok about Hawaii destinations. It was beautiful.”

“Are you sure it's the destination you saw in that video?” Jungkook teases, both of you cackling as Taehyung flips him off.

“Ah, my aunt went there last year. She can't stop talking about it.” Jimin ignores the three of you, sticking up to the topic while Jungkook and Taehyung stick their tongues out at each other. Kids.

“Honestly, I don't care much where we're gonna go. As long as it's a nice place.” you shrug. “Hawaii sounds nice. Let's check it more, so we can finally decide.” 

Everyone agrees with you. When the four of you start searching for more details that entail what island you would pick, accommodation, flight tickets and overall the prices. The tiredness slowly overcomes you, your friends talk too much to the point you zone out. Their voices drift off as your head falls down on Jungkook's shoulder.

You hear them teasing you for falling asleep, but it gets ignored as you simply shrug and continue in your slumber. It's until Jungkook shakes you out of your sleepiness, his soft features are blurry until you blink a few times. In the distance you can see Jimin and Taehyung cleaning after themselves, the two of them in their own conversation. He gives you a gentle smile.

“We're going to Hawaii.”

Over the course of a couple of days, everything is booked and set up. It feels nearly unreal. You've never experienced a vacation that involved a proper beach and island. It doesn't properly kick in, not even when you inform Junho about the vacation leave you want to take in mid July. Not very pleased by that, he knew you do have a right to take one, so he had to accept it. When everyone got a free pass, the group chat was filled with exciting gifs and memes. 

All that is left is to wait.

Taehyung: I fucking need this vacation y'all

Jimin: work?

He expects his job to be the cause of Taehyung's sudden message to the group chat.

Taehyung: no lol

Taehyung: just thinking about all chicks I'm gonna get 

Jimin: dude…

Taehyung: what? you used to be way more fun -_- 

Taehyung: you act like a priest now

Jimin: I don't think priest has a girlfriend 

Taehyung: doesn't it depend on religion?

Jimin: do you know anything about religion man??? 

Taehyung: than you're just stuck up man then  

Taehyung: fyi I do know a lot 

Taehyung: women love to scream for god when I 🍆🍩

“Ewww wtf” 

Jimin: we didn't need to know that

Taehyung: you guys are no fun -_- 

Kook: Just another day in this gc I see 

Taehyung: so boring  

Taehyung: where are my friends?! >.<

“They're responsible” 

Taehyung: like you're one to talk about responsibility

You gasp, snickering.

“Fuck you” 

Taehyung: come here then bby :P

Jimin sends a laughing gif, probably rolling from Taehyung's ridiculous messages. 

Jimin: we've matured Tae, time to find a girlfriend

Taehyung: I'd rather cut my dick off

“Can I do it? 🥺” 

Jungkook sends laughing emojis. 

Taehyung: I knew you were kinky little shit

“Seems like you're the kinky little shit” 

Taehyung: I never hid it ;)

“again… EW! -_-” 

Jimin: petition to cut tae's dick

“Maybe then he'll finally think with his head rather than his dick” 

Taehyung: you little bitch 

You send an emoji sending a kiss. 

Taehyung: y'all are so mean

Kook: I'm in the middle of photoshoot and I'm reading about Tae's dick

Kook: get a grip

“But I love talking about Tae's dick :(((“ 

Taehyung: YES!

Jimin: lmaooo 

Kook: seriously? -_- 

“Yes 😘” 

Taehyung: she can talk about yours if you want kook

Kook: I'm outta here 

“Taehyung -_-” 

Taehyung: just jk omg  

Jimin: let them live bro 

Taehyung: you're one to talk dude 

Jimin: fuck off

“Are the flight tickets returnable?” 

Taehyung: no you're stuck with us

Jimin: actually they are but you're going with us

Taehyung: you have no choice ;)

“I'm seriously gonna slap the shit out of you Taehyung” 

“But I can't I'm working” 

Taehyung: I can visit you ;) just try me 

Jimin: yeah don't do it girl 

“I'm seriously gonna kick your ass” 

Taehyung: I thought you wanted to slap the shit outta me :( 

“I can do both” 

Taehyung: I'm sure you can

Taehyung: Kook??

Kook: leave me alone

Taehyung: disrespectful brat

“Tell him to leave me alone too :<” 

Kook: yeah leave her alone too 

Taehyung: because what? what you're gonna do? :))

Jimin: you're never gonna let that go will you

Taehyung: nope ;) love to tease them

“Just come here, I'm gonna show you what's teasing” 

Taehyung: cumming!! 

Taehyung: oops I meant *coming :))) 

Kook: 🙄

“🤮” 

Jimin: lmaooooo they disgusted

Jimin: me too me too

Taehyung: now that my job's done, enjoy your day you fuckers 😘 

There are no messages for a while. You're guessing all of you are busy. It's the middle of the day after all. 

“Is he drunk?” 

Jimin: no… just taehyung

Somehow, that sums it all up. 

After work, you're in the middle of sorting out your laundry when you videochat with the guys. Much to your surprise, you ended up clocking off early which doesn't happen very often – if ever. Junho has seemed to be in a good mood today, which resulted in letting some of you leave early. Yoongi included who couldn't seem to be happiest as he rushed out of the door as first. 

“Where's Jimin?” Taehyung asks, holding his phone down as he unlocks the door of his apartment. The angle would not be very flattering for most people, but it's unfair it's not unflattering when it comes to him at all. 

“I think he's on a date.” Jungkook answers, one hand on a wheel as his phone is perfectly angled at him.

You laugh at Taehyung's face. “You know, you could try to go on a date too. I've got a few coworkers who would surely be interested.” you tease him, laughing even more when you see his features scowl in a mere disgust and disinterest. 

Jungkook cackles, eyes focused on the road. 

“If they're interested in having the time of their lives, my phone's on.” Taehyung jokes.

“You're so confident about that.” Jungkook laughs.

“You know Kook, you should've known that–”

“Alright, alright. Spare me the details. I'm driving.” Jungkook cuts him off quickly, making a grimace that makes you giggle. 

“Besides, I'm heading to the club tonight.”

“Alone?” you ask, brows raised in surprise. 

It's not like Taehyung is not the type to go somewhere alone, especially to a club. But it used to be something at least one of you went to do together. 

“No, I'm meeting Mark in an hour.”

“Wait–Mark as in the Mark I worked with?” you ask, closing the washing machine's door with a thud as you stare wide-eyed at the screen.

“Yeah.”

“How do you know him?” you ask, “I mean—how did this happen?”

You haven't heard of Mark for months. It's true you've seen him a few times after you quit the job there while visiting, but he hasn't been on your mind since then. It's not that weird because Taehyung knows him, you introduced them and Taehyung is very social, but you would've never guessed they actually hung out. 

“You know.. My friends started to focus on monogamy, so–”

“Shut up.” You laugh as Taehyung grins before giving you a proper explanation.

“I don't really know, I was in this other club one night and he was working there. I remember him from the time you worked together. Anyway, got drunk and we talked. We bumped into each other a few times since then and we kinda started hanging out.”

“Well, say hi to him from me.”

“Will do.” 

A message pops on the top of your screen. You read the name, seeing it's Jungkook texting you. Taehyung starts to ramble, while Jungkook waits at the red light that illuminates his face as he cocks his head toward his phone, motioning for you to text him back.

Kook: movie night tonight? have a free evening

A sudden rush of happiness evokes in your chest and you're too quick to type back.

“Yes!! Got a few movies recs we can watch” 

“What are the two of you smiling about?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Nothing, nothing.” you sing out, seeing Jungkook chuckle as he starts driving again. 

“You can join me.” Taehyung suggests.

“I don't feel like clubbing tonight.”

“Yeah, me neither. ” Jungkook hums.

“Boring, I'm telling y'all. You are getting boring as fuck.”

“We're getting older, Tae.” you laugh.

“You? You're the youngest out of all of us! ” he exclaims.

“I'm an old soul, Tae. What can I say?”

“Old soul my ass.” he grumbles.

The three of you laugh and joke around until the call ends shortly after. A few minutes later, there's a knock at your door signalizing you of someone's arrival. Opening the door with a huge grin, your features falter a little when you see him. Jeon Jungkook stands in front of your door, hair wet as he informs you of the short summer rain he caught on his way here and that you've completely missed. Tattooed hand goes into his hair, swiping them off his forehead as a few droplets drop down his thin black leather jacket.

He looks straight out of a movie. A total heartthrob. 

He arches his brow at you, chuckling. “You're gonna let me in or not?”

Fuck.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #personasintro

[sundaycentric]

⌢  ⌢ yandere choso x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, sfw, headcanons, stalking, choso is weird idk, dependency?, mentions of babytrapping, mahito jumps u btw, mahito warning, general obsessive and possessive behavior, possibly ooc?? idk i wrote this for my own pleasure ... 1.3k words

— Choso has only cared about 3 people in his life. His late brothers, and his alive half-one. Not even his "colleagues" that he has to work closely with on their schemes. Outside of his family, nobody else mattered. At least, that's how it was. Choso doesn't consider you family, so why is it that he seems to care so much about you? It angers him. Has he lost loyalty to his brothers?

Choso tended to avoid you at first, paying you no mind like the rest that surrounded him. The most attention he'd allow himself to give you is subtle glances or the occasional hand when you needed help. Nothing more, as you were nothing to him. Except you were.

Choso realized his feelings, despite not being able to tell exactly what they were, pretty quickly. The weird beating of his heart when you were around, how his hands got shaky, and how he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck as he spoke to you, nervous that you wouldn't approve of him somehow. He became a bit more conscious around you. He wanted you to like him.

Choso thought these weird, firstly platonic feelings towards you were because you were family. Perhaps Itadori wasn't his only half-sibling. However, thinking about it like that made Choso feel awfully weird. You weren't his family, as it made his stomach churn to think of you as such. So, what were you then?

.

.

.

— Choso didn't care what happened to the people of Shibuya during that incident. When planning it out with the other curses, he felt no sympathy or worry for the people who would be present. Yet, upon hearing that you could possibly be in Shibuya on the day on the attack, Choso almost completely forgot about everything else.

Choso had separated from the others to look for Itadori, to try and get his revenge. While walking around Shibuya, he passed many of the trapped people within the veil. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers which Choso paid no attention to. Their conversations did not matter to him, who was focused on something else already.

Choso then heard your name fall from someone's lips. The voice sounded familiar. He turned around to verify, and it was one of your friends. Choso had taken a liking to 'watching' you as you went about your day, so it was no trouble recognizing this person you frequently saw and spoke with. Suddenly, he started paying a bit more attention to the conversation.

Choso listened as the person spoke. He knew he was wasting his time he could be using to search for Itadori, but he couldn't bring himself to move. From what he heard, you might be in Shibuya right now, specifically in a location near the veil. Without a second thought, Choso set off in another direction.

— Choso felt pure rage like this only once before in his life: when he found out that his brothers were dead. He had made it to the edge of the veil to see Mahito toying with you. It made Choso sick to even see you crying for a split second. Without thinking, he stepped in and used his curse technique to force Mahito to step back.

Choso looked furious. His eyes furrowed, brows pulled down in a sharp V. His fists shakily clenched onto your clothes, pulling you up into his grasp. All the while, his shrunken pupils glared at the curse in front of him. A few drops of blood fell onto you from the mark on his nose. Choso made no effort to clean it.

Choso frowned even deeper as Mahito laughed, questioning his behavior. He gritted his teeth together, the grinding sound rough. He wasted no time in telling Mahito off, claiming that you were his and that Mahito needed to go somewhere else. Mahito only looked confused since Choso seemed so occupied with you, what about hunting Itadori down?

Choso breathed a deep sigh of relief as Mahito left, deciding that this wasn't worth his time. After all, he needed to find his natural enemy before Jogo did. Choso watched as Mahito skipped away before looking back at you. How shaken you were, some stray tears still dripping down your cheeks. You looked so fragile, like a doll. Choso, after seeing you almost get into serious trouble, decided then that you were too weak to be out on your own. He'd protect you now, and he wouldn't fail loosing you as well.

— Choso lovingly ran his hands through your hair, the fingers playing with your locks. He had you resting in his lap, consoling you and making sure to wipe every tear that formed at your waterline. He might not know exactly what he feels, but he knows that protecting you is just as important as protecting his brothers.

Choso wouldn't allow you out of his grasp, let alone his sight. However, you are a bit confused because this man is a stranger, but he did save your life. You could tell he was strong, so it was best to stay with him. He tried to be soothing and gentle as well, but it was a bit difficult for him: Choso knew humans were more fragile than curses, and he didn't want to get too happy to finally be in contact with you.

Choso noticed that you began to calm down as he petted your hair, but you were still shaken. He couldn't blame you: Mahito was terrifyingly sadistic. However, he was glad he was able to intervene before things spiraled. He gently pushed your head against his chest, cradling you as he would do to a young child.

Choso began to speak, trying to calm your nerves even more. He apologized for Mahito, reassured you were safe, and even made some subtle comments about some things you liked. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that he shouldn't know those things since you had bigger issues to worry about. Like your friend, who Choso overhead and you knew was in Shibuya.

— Choso blankly stared at you when you inquired about your friend's whereabouts. He shook his head before shushing you. Your friend was in the main building, there was little likelihood of their survival. But why did that matter to you? They weren't your family. Choso's chest felt weird. You shouldn't care about your late friend. You are here with Choso right now. Why are you worrying about another?

Choso felt jealous. Light jealousy, but still jealousy. That's when it finally clicked for him. No, you weren't family. But you were his. When he said you were his to Mahito, he hadn't even realized what he said. However, now he finally realized what he said, and what it meant. He loved you.

Love was such a strange concept. He stared down at you, his hand playing with your hair without thinking. He was in love, with you. His grip on you got slightly more tight as his thoughts wandered. He had saved your life. Did you love him back for that?

If you didn't, that'd be okay. Choso prefers if you love him back, but you'd learn to either way. He needed you. You and his family were what he loved. But what if you and him had a family too? He knew his mind was going too far too soon, but he couldn't shake the idea of having kids with you. Maybe that'd be another way to get you to stay. That sounded like a good idea.

— You gazed up to Choso, who had gone unresponsive while thinking. You frowned slightly, a bit worried. Gently, you tapped him, and he seemed to wake back up. He stared at you silently for a few more moments before fully hugging you. His mouth was close to your ear, hot breath tickling you, "You'll be perfect."

#★ neuviyuan #yandere choso #yandere choso x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #headcanons #yandere headcanons

[astridthevalkyrie]

xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."

"how many more are there?"

"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."

"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.

with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."

he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.

sleep can wait another day.

zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"what do you think?"

he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"

"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."

he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.

"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"

predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.

rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.

he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."

a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."

he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."

you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."

"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.

"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"

his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.

"okay."

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #xavier #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace xavier #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel

[d1xonss]

H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛

Sticks and Stones

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3k

AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!

The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.

The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.

Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.

Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.

For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.

You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.

You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.

You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.

Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.

But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.

“Hey!”

You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.

You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”

“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.

You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.

A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.

You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.

She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”

You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”

“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”

“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.

She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”

Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 

And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.

Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.

His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.

Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.

“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”

You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.

Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.

The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.

Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”

“Get back to the house.”

His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.

There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.

He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.

Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.

You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.

You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.

He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”

“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”

Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.

You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.

And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”

A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”

His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”

“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”

“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”

“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”

The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.

You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”

“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”

You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.

After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”

He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.

“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 

He simply shrugged, “Good.”

Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”

“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”

He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.

You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”

“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”

You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”

He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

.

.

.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

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