#[ and not once had i bothered archiving ]

[unproduciblesmackdown]

one in a million when i watch smthing in the horror genre and don't end up disappointed to/and/or pissed off about it so like "also yeah i liked it. ooo" is like relative to that an off the charts rave review of media of the millennium. also i did think about mh a lot along the way so would recommend its affect/effect if you like mh's horror too

[chaosgenasi]

thinking about. potential leader of the "death-obsessed cult" within paragon's call / inferred worshipper of the duskmaven, otohan thull, using poison that seals souls behind one of the divine gates and prevents resurrection. there's also an interesting piece of dialogue from treshi, who, in relation to the ruidus superstitions of those within paragon's call, said: "i've seen enough interesting, weird things in my life to know that most nothing makes much sense, so you get what you can with the time you are given. and when your time is up, it's up." also, it's very out there, but if the poison is less about preventing resurrection and moreso about redirecting the souls elsewhere if possible -- say, behind a different gate -- there's this interesting piece of lore from c2:

"there is a prominent belief, superstitious as it is largely considered, that most of these meteors that do come through in meteor showers themselves are parts of ruidus, the distant moon, breaking apart and making their way towards the planet. some believe because it's decaying and just showering its decay upon the planet in clumps, others believe it's supposedly distant warriors' spirits that themselves are returning to the planet after being lost on the battlefield."

[mydearlybeloathed]

── ᴘᴀʀᴅᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: usually, he hates being bothered when at work--unless its you, of course.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: dan heng x gn!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: nothing to note

𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕙𝕤𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

A knock on the archives door jolted Dan Heng from his thoughts, gaze lazily gliding to the source. He blinked, eyes threatening to slam shut under the weight of exhaustion. Again, a soft rapping of knuckles spooked him to life, along with a gentle, “Dan Heng?”

You were always so gentle with him, even when he didn’t deserve it—even when he pushed you away like he had that evening. Just before you knocked on the door Dan Heng replayed the crestfallen look in your eyes as he snapped at you and locked himself away.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and there you stood in all your glory. Dan Heng held his breath, lest you realize how it always hitched at the sight of you. This hold you held over him was both infuriating and encapsulating, and he couldn’t afford to let you become aware of how deep it flowed.

You offered him a scant smile, stepping inside and casting a disapproving look around. You didn’t approve of him making the archives his room—you’d told him so several times since you joined the Express. Shaking your head, you swept over to stand over where Dan Heng sat on his makeshift bed. 

“Busy?” you quipped, tilting your head.

“Not anymore,” said Dan Heng, suppressing a grin. 

Your smile became more natural, not tentative like you approached a creature that might skitter off at any moment. You took to standing at his side, hands behind your back as you scanned over the expansive archives. “Having fun?”

While you didn’t particularly understand how organizing information in the archives could be fun, you still smiled every time he answered a mumbling yes. You knelt down, arms folded atop your knees, and quickly lost your balance. You yelped as you tilted into him, giggling away as Dan Heng instantly reached to steady you, winding up with you half on his lap with his arms around your shoulders.

You seemed to be all too pleased with this outcome, a sneaky grin on your face. You relaxed entirely, laying your head in his crossed lap and folding your arms over your chest, gazing up at him softly. Meanwhile, Dan Heng sat stiff as a board, barely breathing, until you gently reached up and tapped the tip of his nose. He blinked quickly, abruptly jerking his neck to stare down at you, and all at once his shoulders, arms, and chest sagged in content. 

He would never be used to this, he thinks. Being with you. Dan Heng barely withheld a shiver when he began to play with your fingers, momentarily occupied before turning half of his attention back to his task; the other half still clutched onto your hand. He was always a quick learner, so he swiftly got the hang of one-handed typing. 

“Dan Heng?”

He glanced down. Your eyes fluttered, absently fiddling with his hand. “Yes?”

“Could I sleep here tonight?” Oh, if only you knew what kind of acrobatics his heart was doing now.

He nodded, tight lipped, his voice huskier as if holding back what he really wanted to say. “Of course. You’re always welcome.”

You gave him a dopey sort of smile and dropped your hands on your chest. You liked to think you had him figured out by now, knowing all his little tells and just what was going on in that busy head of his. Reaching to take his hand, you wrapped it in both of yours, reveling in his soft gasp as the warmth of your skin chased away his cold. 

Shifting to curl further into him, you clutched his hand to your chest, closing your eyes and releasing a gentle sigh. All Dan Heng could do was stare down in awe. This… understanding between you had been going on for some time, long enough for Dan Heng to lose that shock whenever his heart stopped around you. Still, he liked to think he held some of his cards loosely to his chest…

But now it was quite obvious; you weren’t bothered by his aloofness… because you saw right through him. And as Dan Heng quietly shut down his work and shuffled around to lay on his cot, pulling you to rest against his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter four: This is why you don’t leave your Aeon unsupervised (In which you get kissed, again)

Warnings: References to violence, mentions of castration (not graphic) heavily not edited (RIP first draft, you will not be remembered)

“Ohoho this is neat!”

“It’s not neat man— more like dead meat.”

“Come on don’t be a downer! Look bro, it’s your very first wanted poster!” Boothill roughly grabbed you closer to him in good spirits as he grinned widely at the paper he’s holding with another hand— specifically, your very first wanted poster.

“I’m happy I have one but the problem is— it looks so…” You cringed, seeing your pose with a chair. Well at least they didn’t get their details wrong. “I don’t know, fuckass??”

Boothill snorted. “Nahhh don’t sweat that darling, it’s your first one after all. You should have seen mine, it’s wayyyy uglier than yours.”

“I didn’t expect to be known as some chair using murderer though.” You mumbled, it wasn’t exactly a complaint considering it was and had been technically your weapon ever since you occasionally roped yourself in Boothill’s shenanigans. “I’m just gonna have to pray the other people in the express won’t look at me weird once they see my face on the news.”

The chances of it happening were slim— you didn’t like media attention, whether it be for the purpose of turning you into a subject fit for a National Geographic™️ documentary or have your entire face on the news. Thankfully you weren’t in the level of a stellaron hunter yet, but damn the IPC sure knew spite.

“I don’t know why they even bothered with putting a bounty on my head, it was just some lackeys I helped you with sending out six feet under— wait, was it because I castrated one of them using the back of my shoe?” You blinked, brows furrowed as you continued to stare at your own poster some more as Boothill cringed and hissed through gritted teeth.

“Probably.” He said— although lacking balls himself, he felt a tinge of sympathy for the poor lad whose jewels you’ve severed using a blade you have very creatively embedded in your shoe. “Some of their folks can get reeaal petty.” He drawled. “Friend of theirs that escaped probably put that bounty on your head because they’re scared they’d be next on the clock chopping board.”

In your end you did say “Say goodbye to deez nuts!” and brutalized that poor poor man so much his friend pissed themselves and peaced out.

“Pffft.” You laughed. “Clock chopping board—“.

“Yeah yeah laugh all you want.” He rolled his eyes. “That aside, you’re a pretty thing. If you go around killing them while accompanying me they’re bound to remember your face.” He tapped you on the cheek lightly.

“Thank you?” You said, unsure.

There’s a ring in the air that you identified to have come from Boothill’s phone.

“Welp, time to go.” He said, snatching a shot glass and downing the last of the whiskey and swallowed the bullet that accompanied it.

“Later darlin’, still got some business to do.”

“Good luck!”

—————————

“It’s nice to finally meet you, time hasn’t been very kind.”

What the fuck?

Green eyes, blond hair and good looks, the man that stood before you was none other than Kirschtaria Wodime— wait no, wrong name and fandom, it’s Otto Apocalypse?? No, you internally shook your head, wrong again.

This bitch was Void Archives, and he’s the source of Welt’s old man yaoi PTSD.

And you were probably going to have a rivalry, because unfortunately for everyone in this train including yourself; he didn’t pretend he was pretentious, he was the pretentious prick.

“Well, hello and nice to meet you I suppose?” You blinked, unsure of how to approach him as you awkwardly extended your hand for a shake. Void Archives took it, surprisingly gentle with how he grasped it before giving it a firm shake.

“Void Archives.” He introduced himself but you already know that, he didn’t though.

“[Name].” You replied.

In your opinion, this man smelled suspicious. Very very suspicious, and a bigger red flag than you. (If he had the face of Otto Apocalypse then it was an automatic sus banner plastered on his profile for you, but the bit— Void Archives, doesn’t know that you know.)

You scowled the moment he was out of the room, clear displeasure displayed into your face as you thought of another way to deal with another shitshow— except the Express was involved. You didn’t know much about what happened, but you do know he caused some not so good shit for everyone.

On the bright side, you would meet Dan Heng.

Dinner was served and pleasantries were exchanged, with you remaining uncharacteristically reserved towards Void Archives. If the other two people in the express noticed this, they don’t speak of it.

———————-

You retreated to your quarters for that night and returned to your true body, surprised to find Yaoshi there with you, sitting idly as if waiting.

“I see that you already have a name.” They smiled sweetly. “And a more formed body too.. yes….this one suits you just fine indeed.” One of their many hands rested on the top of your head, taking a lock of hair in between their fingers as they looked at you with the thousands of their eyes adoringly. “You have grown well, I am glad.”

“Welcome back?” You managed to utter, much like your encounter with the Void Archives, Yaoshi too made you at a loss for words.

“You were waiting for me?” They came closer to you with a pleased expression plastered on their disturbingly ethereal face as you heard the stretching of branches and the sound of limbs being torn off again.

“You did promise you would come back to visit.” You told them. “Were you here for a while?”

“No, but I was watching you.” They shook their head gently. “You spread freedom and sow in seeds of kindness, will you liberate more from suffering?”

“I mean, I don’t like having to see shit like people being constrained. So technically, yes.” You replied to them, and they seemed pleased with that response, holding your waist with another pair of arms, caressing you in a way you would have felt as a maddening and yet detached kind of love had you been a human.

Now that you thought about it, it was no wonder Yaoshi’s followers seemed.. a little crazy.

However their hold on you seemed to be personal. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

“How kind,” They said, voice remaining sweet and expression tranquil as they pulled you closer and closer, til you’re caged in the branches and the thousands of arms— they’re ensnaring you in a hug, or at least you thought it’s a hug.

“You liberate people of their suffering, lessening their burden in the cycle of being.” They sighed like a maiden in love. Briefly, you thought of the man whose balls you severed with the back of your shoe and felt the urge to rebut Yaoshi of what they said, but ultimately chose not to speak as they didn’t seem to tire in adoring you.

You found it a little off putting but you couldn’t judge; they were free to feel anything towards you as much as you were free to think of anything towards them. They were a fellow Aeon, although if you were a mortal, you would have found this interest towards you incredibly terrifying, knowing full well how their love always ends.

While losing yourself to mara and growing branches and leaves in your body wasn’t sexy, you weren’t going to restrict Yaoshi in feeling things, so long as they don’t cause trouble to your little train.

“May you be as free as those whom you chose to be free, Kind Freedom.” The branches receded and so did their arms, with only two hands to cup your face gently. “May we meet again.” After they uttered those words, they kissed you just as they did before when you were just new to the world, then left.

If you were a human, you think you would have just gone cathartic from too many things happening at once, because what the hell was their business in kissing you in the mouth before dipping??

You did remember that Yaoshi said that they felt as if they knew you before, and thinking about it now, were the Aeons acutely aware of you watching when you were playing the game behind the screen?

No, they wouldn’t be. But you’d like to think they could feel your presence, just not identify you.

It was in the simulated universe too, so there was no way unless they actually fully interacted with you outside of it as the Trailblazer. You thought of it some more, recalling past conversations, then you remembered Lan stating your presence felt familiar too.

It still didn’t really explain why Yaoshi would be compelled to kiss you as if you were a lover— but on god, you hoped not. As disturbingly beautiful as your fellow Aeon might be, you’re well aware and lucid enough to acknowledge they’re a big fat red flag.

For a moment, you wondered if they’d ask you to marry them next, worse, they could just tell you you’re married to them and call it a day.

Could Aeons even marry?

There’s a lot for you to think about, but you brushed the thought of a marriage when you remembered the other train passenger— Mr. Blonde Prick. You groaned, at that time not noticing the noise you made was heard by the cosmos.

It was a groan for you, but for the humans who heard it certainly did not sound like it.

You told Welt to shut off the broadcast in the next day the moment you heard a very familiar intro, not wanting to hear your voice documented and broadcasted for everyone to hear again.

———————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V (HERE),Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII….

And there we go for this chapter! This is just pure brain vomit but enjoy :33

[pokedawriter]

Nymph!Reader x Sumeru!Men

Gn!reader, you're a nymph

How would the sumeru men react to finding you and your grotto

I still have no idea what I'm doing

I've never written for Cyno, Alhaitem or Scara so forgive me if something is out of character

Cyno

He's patrolling the desert. There have been lots of cave-ins in the area recently and he wants to figure out if there is a specific cause that he can solve or if he should just warn people about the area

As he walks, he feels the sand beneath his feet begin to fall and he tries to jump away but it's too sudden and he falls

He braces for impact but lands into a net of vines that gently lower him to the ground

Your standing next to him, arm extended with the sunlight on your back, looking gorgeous and radiant, then you speak

"I can't be-leaf someone fell into here. Water you doing here?"

Archons, he might have fallen in love with you at that moment

He asks you about the recent cave in and you tell him it the Wenut mating season, and they're all trying to make burrows for their young. An inexperienced male has been digging here but didn't dig deep enough, which is why there are so many cave-ins. You tell him to just wait a month or two for the season to end

The hole is fairly deep and so you build him a ladder out of vines and he promises to return

After reporting what happened with the cave-ins, he returns and finds you've been repairing your grotto in the mean time, removing the dirt and stones that fell

You're very excited to see him and take him deeper into your grotto, further underground

It's beautiful, with purple, white and yellow flowers illuminating the area. Glowing stones are scattered in the ceiling like stars

He makes a regular habit to visit you and introduces you to Tighnari pretty soon (but he doesn't visit much due to his incompatibility with the heat). You all like to have Genius Innovation TCG together (Cyno teaches you and gives you cards)

He finds himself falling asleep in your grotto, surrounded by the glowing flowers and flowing water

He has to stop visiting for a few months due to work, but tries to wrap it up as fast can to see you

When be returns, he finds your grotto has been severely damaged, much of the flora dying. He searches high and low for you, going to the deepest part of the grotto where rocks fall away and reveal a very weakened you

You tell him people found out about your grotto and stole as many of your rare plants as they could, weakening you greatly and you had to hide yourself and your remaining plants away

He's furious and immediately takes action

He works with Tighnari and Lesser Lord Kusanali to make you and your grotto a protected space

And though he can't punish the researchers for over-foraging (since you and your grotto weren't legally protected), he does let other researchers know of their actions, resulting in those researchers being shunned

He helps you and your grotto return to full health and always tries to visit once a week to 'keep away any trouble makers" (but he just wants to visit you)

You both often fall asleep together in the deepest part of the grotto, happy in each other's presence

Alhaithem

He was looking through the old archives. The scrolls and books here were no longer scientifically accurate, but were kept for record purposes

He's found an old book about mythical creatures of Sumeru: Aranara, Nymphs, Djinn, Rocs, and more. He decided to rent it out and give it a read

Reading it at his house wasn't an option as it would be too loud (Kaveh, whom he didnt feel like dealing with today), the Academia students and researchers were always bothering him if he was around (especially after the 'hero' title), so he decided to leave the city for a bit.

As he walked, he found a small cave and decided to read there

Inside was larger than he expected, with a small moss-covered shrine and little yellow flowers. He sat on one of the rocks to read

It was wonderfully calm and quiet. The right temperature, the trickle of water from a nearby stream, the rustle of the leaves... it was all perfect

So, he came back here again and again, reading his books late into the evenings

He was in the middle of his mythical creatures book, on Nymphs, when he felt a presence and immediately looked for it

You sat on the shrine, staring at him, head tilted in wonder

He looked between his book and its description of Nymphs and you... and it seems he found a mythical creature. Regardless, he continued to read and you continued to watch him

Eventually, he turned to you and asked why you were just staring at him, to which you shrugged and said "If a man were to walk in your yard everyday and read, doing nothing else at all, wouldn't you grow curious?"

He was mostly surprised by the fact you could respond. The book said that Nymph's were shy creatures who couldn't talk

But to you, this man had been a regular visitor to your grotto for months now. His scent was just part of your grotto, like the duskbirds and rishboland tigers. He wasn't a stranger at all

Alhaithem decided to ask you a few questions about Nymphs which you agreeably answered, even showing in the deeper parts of the grotto that he hadn't noticed were there

You both fell into a comfortable routine of him visiting you on his days off to read in comfortable silence while you worked on your grotto

Despite being able to talk in every language he could, he realized you couldn't read at all

He helped you learn how to read and you helped him relax and have the perfect reading spot

You became reading buddies, and even though you would ask him with question on words, it never bothered or annoyed him

He subtly made your grotto a legally protected area so if anyone messed with it, they would have to pay

You were his safe space, and in return, he would protect you too

Scara/Wanderer

Nahida asked him to go outside and touch grass more

Just kidding, she asked him to find a rare flower, only ever found underground in rare Nymph Gardens

She gave him a rough idea where he might be able to find it and off he went, grumbling the whole way

Finding the entrance to the cave wasn't hard. All he had to do then was follow the smell of fresh flowers. It was so simple for him (and most certainly didn't take him several days)

When he finally found your grotto, he couldn't find the flower Nahida had described for him and grumbled under his breath about it

This is where you come in: appearing next to his shoulder asking about what flower he was exactly talking about

You stare at him innocently even as he hold a swirl ball of anemo energy

You ask again and he asks who you are, cautious

"I'm the nymph of this grotto"

That can't be possible, Nymphs aren't real, surely you're pulling his leg

But you have flowers growing on you, the plants lean towards where you step and life seems to exude from you

He'll dispell his anemo attack and tell you about the flower. You nod and scoop it up a bit of dirt and grow the flower on it

He's wondering if there's a cost to it. You tell him it'll hurt you when he leaves with it. He asks what he owes you and you shrug and walk away to play with the springyness of a new fern

He brings the flower to Nahida then rushes back. Not because he's worried! He's just curious about the affects of removing the flower from your grotto (Nahida gives him a knowing smile as he leaves)

When he arrives, you're laying on the ground, looking unwell. He puts his hand to your forehead, and you're burning up

Why would you give the flower to him if it would hurt you so much?

"Because you needed it," you say with a smile

He'll take care of you for the next few days, your waking hours being filled with scolding and mild insults about how stupid it was to give all thay power to a stranger. What if they wanted to take advantage of you?

You laugh and smile. When he's not paying attention, you'll make little figurines out of flower of him

Then he'll notice and scold you for not resting properly, idiot (he does think it's very cute though)

He'll protest even when you insist you are perfectly healthy again

You'll take him to the deepest part of the grotto where you made a picture of the two of you in glowing flowers. He says it looks stupid, but you notice his little blush and giggle

He has to leave for a few days and during that time, treasure hoarders find your grotto

They have no respect for your plants, so you hide, slowly growing weaker and weaker as they pick and burn your plants

Needless to say, when Scara returns and sees you hanging on by a thread, he's pissed

He wipes them out and tends to you once again. It takes months this time until you are healthy, but he's by your side every step of the way

"Clearly, you can't take care of yourself, so I'll have to watch out for you! Hey! Don't giggle! What's so funny, idiot?"

[ihavethedreamies]

Stupid | Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung - ATEEZ)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~10.3k

Pairing: Wooyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Caution: The angst in this story is more familial based. There are mentions of adultery/infidelity, but it's not dwelled on. This could be triggering for those who have had parent's leave or other similar circumstances, so just be warned.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Princess, Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc.), Childhood/Teenage Trauma, Family Issues, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Couch Sex, Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: Hm, just thought I would do this since I made something similar for San.

(S/N) is for the name of your sister.

Move Update: We are headed out next Monday for our new state (back to where I was born actually) and I'm gonna have to live at my uncles for a month before the new house is ready, so I will be writing a lot there, so get ready.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

The only sound you could hear was your own aggressive keypresses. You had paused your music to go to the bathroom and didn't bother hitting play again. Staring hard at the screen, your eyes hurt even with the dark theme applied. The colorful lines of code on the dark screen blurred and refocused, and you blinked, trying to force your eyes not to blur. Sighing, you pushed back from your desk, rubbing over your eyes. Taking your computer glasses off, you let them fall onto your desk and you got back up. It was really hard to work at 2 am, let alone when your thoughts were racing. And the thoughts had nothing to do with your job. The last thing you needed the day before a project was due was to loop on irrational thoughts. Your socked feet thumbed on the wood floor of your hallway as you went down it. Your sister's door was propped open, so you quietly opened the door, peeking inside. The soft teal lighting strip lining her walls cast a faint glow over the room. She was starfish-ed on the bed, peacefully and messily asleep. Huffing, you stepped out and shut your door. How nice it must be to be thirteen. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants, you exited the hallway and went into the kitchen. The large open room of the apartment included the kitchen as well as dining and living areas. A spare room was in the back corner, empty since your friend had moved out a month before. Another room sat across from it, the large windows of the studio covered with tall curtains, but you knew it was just full of boxes of old things. Someday you would have the courage to go through them and get rid of stuff, maybe use the studio for an office or something, but…

Opening the fridge to get the pitcher of orange juice, the door shut, and your eyes focused on the dark on the picture magnetically attached to the front. The picture was of a once happy life you lived. A black squiggle covered the face of the man, the woman next to him smiling like the sun. Glaring at the censored face, you yanked the photograph from the magnet clip and slapped the picture down on the counter. The pitcher followed and as you grabbed a glass, you plucked the scissors from the small utensil-filled mug on the counter. After pouring yourself a drink, and taking a few sips, you grabbed the photo. Holding it up, you realized it would make sense to turn the overhead light of the range hood to see better, but you continued in the dark. Opening the shears, you cut a tiny slit into the white border of the photo and halted. The little line split the man's pants from the shoulder of the little girl's white sundress; she was no more than four. She was sitting on the lap of a girl looking much the same, just about twelve years older. It was weird to see such a bright smile on your face.

The purple-handed scissors clattered onto the Formica counter; the photo still held in the crook of the blades. Resting against the counter behind you, you drank the juice in gulps, hissing through your teeth when it was gone like it was some kind of liquor. The glass-mimicking plastic cup clanked into the sink, and you left the kitchen to shuffle back to your room. As you reentered, you yanked the zipper down of your hoodie, nearly tearing the garment off and throwing it harshly onto the floor. You let the door click quietly closed despite wanting to slam it and went back to your computer. Your chair let out a puff of air when you plopped down into it, the remaining pieces of the candy necklace you had on bouncing over your collarbone. Crunching on one of the sugary beads, you flipped your phone over, so the screen faced up, tapping the black surface and a small white notification bubble showed itself under the white numbers of the clock; 2:13 am. Unlocking the phone with your finger print, you opened your message app and you sniffed at the message in annoyance.

🦊WooWoo🦊: did you get it done?

He had sent it nearly an hour prior. You glared at your computer screen, then to the second monitor, the program running over and over, glitching at the same time stamp each time.

☀️: not even close 🦊: why are you up young lady ☀️: why are you?

He didn't reply right away so you looked back at your computer, clicking your tongue. Hitting save and closing the window, you instead opened up a new email and sent one to your coworker that it might not get there by tomorrow night but that you would try. It wasn't a hard deadline anyway. You worked for an Indie label, not some AAA, so that gave you some flexibility. Closing the window, you stared at your background for a good few minutes, waiting for Wooyoung to reply. The picture used to make you smile, but it hurt your heart. San's cute dimple smile, and his arm around you made you wince. Wooyoung was on your other side, his cheek pressed into the side of your head as he hugged you. You were leaning into San, trying to escape the other man's embrace, at least that was your excuse. The picture was getting close to five years old.

🦊: games 🦊: why are you up ☀️: working. thinking 🦊: about? ☀️: how shit I feel 🦊: you sick??

You rolled your eyes; he wasn't super intuitive sometimes. It was almost 2:30 in the morning though.

☀️: no. how shitty my life is now compared to back then…

Once again, he took a bit to reply, and you almost got up to use the restroom then go to bed. Your phone then buzzed on the desk, the noise even louder going through the wood, and you grabbed it quickly, answering the call.

"Your life isn't shitty (Y/N). I'm here, huh?" His giggle was forced. You just huffed, getting out of your desk chair to move to your bed.

"Livin' the dream."

"What's it this time? Your…da- uh, male life giver?" His little catch at least made the corner of your mouth crook up.

"Yeah."

"How's (S/N)?"

"Good, I guess. She…she was a bit too really remember either of them."

"Even if she doesn't it can't be easy with…how it all played out." He was trying to be careful with what he said, but you were already in a bad mood.

"Our dad cheating, leaving us for his second family and then my mother…" You thought tears who come to your eyes, but maybe you were too tired.

"Where do you think she went?" Your best friend's voice was soft.

"No clue. Neither did Gramma, or the cops. She could be in Timbuk-fucking-tu for all I know."

"Do you want to go out tomorrow with me and San? Or do you have to work?" Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, and you pulled it away from your ear. Opening the email from your coworker, you sighed in relief. Perfect timing.

"Not anymore. The character models are getting scrapped and redone so that means my code has to be scrapped. Might be why I couldn’t get it to move right."

"What about (S/N)?"

"She's thirteen not three. I'll have her sleep over at a friend's maybe…"

"Great! Get some sleep, sunshine. Meet us at 9!" He hung up and you flopped back onto your mattress, feeling disappointed for some reason. Finally working up the energy to get off the bed, you went back to your computer and shut it down, staring at San's smiling face a little too long, before letting it actually turn off.

~*~*~

"Good morning, little lady." You left the hallway, sandals in your hand. Your sister sent you a tired look over her cereal, waving lazily.

"G'mornin'."

"Do any of your friends get to have sleep overs on school nights?" Her eyes opened a bit wider then, then squinted as she thought.

"Uh…probably. Going out with-" she gave a flirty pose, batting her eyelashes, "Sannie?" then dropped the act.

"Shut up, you little shit." You threw a stray cheerio at her, and it nearly stuck to her cheek.

"Wooyoung's going too."

"Oh. You ever gonna tell him?"

"Tell San I like him? I don’t know..."

"San? Oh, yeah, right. Why not?" You didn't answer right away, pouring a glass of juice.

"You're gonna turn into an orange." Your sister rolled her eyes, and you poured just a bit more before putting the pitcher back down.

"I just... I don't think I stand a chance."

"What?! Why?!" Your sister acted like you had personally offended her. Even before your whole messed up parental situation, you two never bickered or anything. Probably because you were nearly thirteen years older than her.

"I'm not his type. He probably sees me as a sister. Also, he looks like that," you motioned down at your white tank with a think blue plaid shirt over and worn denim capris, "and I'm…"

"You better compliment yourself." Your sister glared at you, making you sigh.

"He likes the girls in skirts with makeup and their nails done. The ones that giggle at everything he says and touch his bicep ‘accidentally’…" You drifted off, getting mad at the mental pictures.

"Then do all that." (S/N) shrugged, getting up to put her cereal bowl in the sink.

"Counter." You corrected and she rolled her eyes, taking the bowl out and moving it to the counter.

"(S/N), I don't even own a tube of mascara." You sighed, then proceeded to down your orange juice once again like it was a stiff drink. Your throat burned and your stomach stung somewhat…maybe you did drink too much.

"Use mine."

"What?" You turned fast to look at her and her eyes were wide in panic.

"I only have mascara, I promise!" She lifted her hands in surrender, and you breathed out your nose. She was only a year off being allowed make up, you at least wanted to maintain the rules your mother put on you with your sister. Even if a lot of them never had to be enacted on you.

"Look, I'm just going to go hang out with them and pretend one of my best friends isn't sex on legs."

"I'm pretty sure they both are, but okay." (S/N) muttered under her breath as she passed you to go get her backpack and you pretended to not hear her.

~~~

"Bye, sis!" (S/N) got out of your car and headed into her middle school. She was the one of the few who didn't mind being seen dropped off right in front of the school, but laid-back older sisters are much, much cooler than any parent.

"Just text me who you can stay with!" You called to her, and she turned around with a shocked face.

"Right! What about my bag? My locker's not big enough!" She realized, coming back to your rolled down window, leaning into it.

"I'll bring it by after your club meeting is done."

"Really!? Can you bring WooSan?"

"Don't call them that!" You scolded but laughed nonetheless, "Sure."

"Bye, sis!" She took off again, meeting her similarly uniformed friends by the entrance. You were blessed that the school was willing to take her in for free more-or-less on a scholarship. Your mother wanted both of you to go to the same school, but it was private, and you were in no way capable of paying. If you were, you wouldn't be driving a wine red 2002 Hyundai Sonata with suede upholstery. Pulling out of the drop-off line, you continued down the road till you met the traffic light. It sat at the edge of the academy's campus and the park where you were meeting the guys was just past the light. As you waited for the light to turn, you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel along to the music playing on your radio. The light took even longer because the crossing guard was leading a group of elementary schoolers across. You were watching them pass in their cute little uniforms when you were startled by a knock on your window. You flinched, looking to see what looked to be a high school boy on the other side. You rolled the slightly tinted glass down just enough that you would be able to hear him. He flashed a smoldering smile, and you blatantly sneered.

"What, kid?"

"You obviously don't go to school here, you from the public school?" How dumb was this kid? You hadn't been in high school for seven years. You had a college degree and everything. Most might take it as a compliment to be seen as looking young enough to be a teenager, but…

"Get lost, squirt." You scoffed, looking away but not bothering to roll the window back up. You were a bit curious what his reaction would be.

"I might look young, but I'm a senior this year, princess." He was clearly a little put off by your flat dismissal, trying to keep a flirty tone.

"Fuck off, kid. She's our princess." A familiar voice hit your ears, and you sighed in relief, watching Wooyoung essentially hip bump the kid so hard he fell back onto the sidewalk. Your heart skipped as you huffed a laugh, watching San come up as well and unlocked the doors so the two guys could climb in, right at the light turned green. San barely shut the back door before you took off, leaving the teenager's friends laughing at his sorry state. Crossing the median, you pulled into the parking lot of the park and slumped back into your seat.

"Got your favorite." San leaned forward, toned arm hovering over the center console, holding a plastic bag with one finger.

"Sweet!" You swiped it from him and Wooyoung got out, running around to your side where the window was still rolled down.

"Hey, pretty lady, want to go make out behind the bleachers?" He leaned against the side of your car just like the cocky teen had and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Uh, no." You wondered if he caught you glance in your rearview mirror to watch San get out of your car, holding the drink holder of ice coffees as well. You couldn't meet his gaze though, and surprisingly, he didn't respond, just stood up and started to follow San down the path.

"Hey, wait up!" You got out quickly, nearly forgetting your phone and to lock the car as you dashed after them. Finally getting half-way around the pond that was trying to be a lake, you sat on a picnic bench of the wooden shelter right on the edge of the water. Some ducks quacked as they lazily swam closer, hoping for a snack. As you took a long sip of your ice coffee, you watched San get up and go closer to the ducks, a little bit of his croissant left. Your eyes couldn't help but travel over the wide expanse of his shoulders and back. His arms were on display since he was in a sleeveless hoodie, and you smiled at his as the ducks happily ate the bread.

"That's bad for them, y'know?" Wooyoung called and the other man tossed him a bored look over his shoulder, then went back to the birds. Because you were too busy eyeing over your friend, you didn't notice Wooyoung watching you. He lifted half of his nose in a sneer, glaring at his friend who was taking up all of your attention. Wooyoung wanted to blame it on that San had started working out since you had all started being friends, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

"Just fucking tell him." He whispered harshly to you and his sudden mutter made you choke. San immediately turned around, and you waved him off, but he still went to your side, patting your back some to help.

"You okay?" He kneeled next to you, and you nodded, flashing a small smile, trying not to get red. Not like you could control it. Just then, something green flew through the air, flying past San's head as he stood, and he was toppled over by a mass of blonde fur.

"Jeremy! Get off of him!" A young woman scolded the golden retriever as it refused to get off of San, sniffing him and licking his face. Why am I jealous of a dog? You sighed, slumping back against the wood railing of the shelter.

"Why don't you tell him?" Wooyoung's next whisper was much softer, he sounded very tired.

"And get rejected? Ruin our friendship? No." You whispered back, still watching the cutest thing you've ever seen. The dog was a fat mood, refusing to get off of San.

"I'm so sorry!" The woman finally managed to pull the dog off of the man and he got up laughing. She immediately blushed, finally able to see San past all of the fluff. Looking away and down the path to where the green flying disk still lay you got up to retrieve it, since the dog had failed its job.

"Here." You forced a smile as you handed it back to her and she snapped out of her daze to take it from you, immediately looking back to San. Luckily, she left not too long after and you were able to continue the day with the two guys.

~*~*~

A week passed, and you still hadn't been able to work because the rest of the team couldn't get their act together and finish their parts. So, you had been left to your thoughts which is never good. You sat on the couch, boredly and only partially watching the TV. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and your hands lazily tapped a rhythm on the worn faux leather of the couch. Tilting your head, it rested on the back of the couch, and you stared at the ceiling of your loft apartment, the large ventilation pipes curving around the support columns high above your head. When the doorbell rang you almost didn't recognize it, thinking it might have been on the show. It happened again and you knew it was yours because the TV now displayed a commercial for some kind of sports drink. Getting up with a groan, you trudged over to the door, socked feet shuffling over the wood floor. When you opened the door, a young woman sat on the other side, and her face made you nervous. She looked…

"Hi. Are you (Y/N)?" She smiled gently and you nodded.

"I'm Jena (L/N). Can…can I come in?" When she said her last name, your heart fell. You knew immediately who she was.

"Sure." Your tone was flat, but since she didn't know you, it seemed she didn't notice. You motioned her in and toward the couch and you glanced around your place. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't nice either. She was in a sundress that was at least $300, and she had a giant rock on her finger. You grimaced as she sat on your very well-worn couch and you sat down as well, facing her by sitting sideways. She put her designer bag down, linking her fingers and resting her hands on her knee, legs crossed.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but…I'm assuming you know Daniel (L/N)?" You never wanted to hear that name again.

"Uh, yeah." You shuffled on the couch, the faux leather creaking under you.

"I'm his daughter. I have to admit I was a little…stalky?" She cringed at herself, smiling sheepishly.

"Dad is…well, he doesn't have much longer." When you didn't really react, she continued. On the inside, you just weren't sure how to react.

"They don't know if he drank too much when he was younger or what, but his liver is failing. He's been on a transplant list, but they can't find anyone compatible." She’d better not have come to get you to give him half of your fucking liver-

"Anyway, I was looking over his will-"

"Where's your mom?"

"Huh?"

"How…what about your mom?"

"Oh, uh." She looked down, a sad expression covering her face.

"When he got sick, she left him, so I'm in charge of everything." Rolling your eyes, you huffed, looking toward the kitchen, focusing on the picture on the fridge you meant to cut up.

"Uh. Right, your name is on the will." She pulled a packet of paper from her purse, showing you where your name was highlighted. You didn't even care what he was leaving you, so you handed it back.

"I don't want it."

"O-oh…if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" You raised an eyebrow, and she wilted under your glare.

"You don't know?"

"No, sorry." She hid bashfully behind the papers, "are we cousins or something?" You just stared at her in shock.

"No offense, but it’s a bit weird to have a niece in your will when you have four kids?"

"Look, if you want my part, have it."

"No! That's not… Actually, the reason I'm really here is-" She pulled something else out of her bag and you recognized it.

"Dad kept saying the name Naomi." You stood up at this and she flinched. You paced a bit, hands going to your head, fingers digging into your scalp. Breathing out slowly, you turn back to her.

"Sorry…keep going, I'm just…struggling with this." She seemed a bit unwilling to continue without asking anything, but she did so as you sat back down. Your ire was evident, you were sure.

"Um…well, I couldn't figure out who she was, so I looked in his yearbook. He's…" She flipped to the middle of the book, "with a girl named Naomi." She showed you the page, but you already knew it. High School Sweethearts read in flowery script over the picture of your parents.

"But when I looked her up, I couldn't find anything." Of course not. You never could.

"So, I used Google's new AI search with this picture, and I found a woman…" You hadn’t gone that far, still not really trusting any kind of program claiming to be AI. She pulled out another paper from her bag and showed it to you. It was an article about some town's mayor on the other side of the country, and the caption listed the woman next to him as his wife. It was your mother. But her name was wrong.

"It says her name is Carry, but that looks like the same woman, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Maybe they’re sisters? Twins even? I know it’s a long shot, but do you have her contact information? Even if they broke up soon after high school, maybe she would be willing to see him since he's dying…" As soon as you saw her face on the paper, your anger left, and you were holding back tears.

"I don't…but-" you took a shuddering breath, "uh, I don't think she'll go see him."

"Really?" She deflated a bit, and you looked down at your lap, picking at your torn jeans.

"Uh. No. She's… Okay, I'm in the will because I'm your sister. Those are my parents. She’s my mother." This information floored her, her jaw literally dropping. Sniffing hard, you hated crying, let alone in front of essentially a stranger.

"How old are you?" Your question snapped her back, making her flinch.

"T-twenty." Of course.

"Dad…He uh, left us and mom for…you guys. Then mom fucking snapped or broke or whatever and left us too." You looked at the printed off article, at your mother's smiling face next to some man you had never seen or heard of before. This shocked her even further. You gave her the article back and stood moving to the door.

"Uh, take me out of the will or whatever and just leave us alone please. Thank you." You opened your front door, not able to look at her.

"U-us?"

"Ah. (S/N). My thirteen-year-old sister." This must have really made this Jena girl realize why you acted the way you did. It wasn't that your father left your mother then fathered her, he had both families at the same time.

"M-my brother is twelve." Reality was hitting her.

"Great. That sucks for everyone, please leave." You motioned with your arm for her to get out and as soon as she shuffled out into the hallway, you let the door fall closed. Your shoulder hit the wall, and you slumped to the floor, hot tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your chest heaved as you sobbed, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Fuck!" You screamed, grabbing a cheap ceramic bowl you used for change and chucked it across the room. It hit the column behind your TV and shattered, coins clattering onto the floor in its trail. You buried your face in your hands, breathing harshly, trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. It buzzed again a few minutes later, then again. Again.

"Damnit." You got up, storming over to your phone, looking at it. It was the group chat, Wooyoung and San were talking about doing something the next day, some kind of lawn game competition at the community college. When they saw that you read the messages and didn't reply, your phone rang with a call from Wooyoung.

"I know that we're not in college anymore, but we can get away-" You had stopped crying more or less, but hearing his voice brought tears back to your eyes and you fought a sob.

"Are you crying? What happened?"

"U-um…" You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat along with the tears.

"I'll be there in five…six minutes!" He hung up and you let the device fall onto the couch. Your shoulders fell as you stood in the middle of the main room of your place, glaring at the coffee table's scratched surface. A tear fell onto the plywood, then another. Snapping out of your daze when hard knocks pounded on the door, you only got halfway to the door before he opened it, finding it unlocked.

"(Y/N)?" Seeing the concerned face of your best friend made you feel safe and so your self-erected walls fell. He shut the door as he moved forward, catching you in his arms as you shriveled to the floor. Wooyoung held you tighter as you cried, desperate sobs and whimpers muffled as you pressed your face into his chest. Your tears darkened the red fabric of his sweatshirt, and he adjusted your position, so you sat on the floor, legs over one of his, cheek pressed to his collarbone. A tear of his own fell and mixed with yours on your jaw, but you didn't notice it. He didn't know what happened that wrecked you so bad, but he couldn't stand hearing and seeing you so upset. He even hated it if you cried at a movie.

"What happened, sunshine?" His embrace loosened so you could sit up straighter, tears still falling, but you weren't actively sobbing. Wooyoung cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear from your eye. You had to take several deep breaths through the story, but you managed to tell him what happened.

"M-my mother's alive, Wooyoung." Your voice had quieted so much at the end that, but he still heard the pain.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, come here." He stood, helping you get up and he led you over to the couch. He grabbed your phone, and you rested back on the couch as he easily put in your pin without having to ask what it was. You listened half-heartedly as he called your sister, most likely just getting out of class, about to go to her art club meeting.

"Again? Is this going to be weekly? I think I can stay with Amanda, maybe Emily…" You heard (S/N) sigh, "what about my stuff?"

"Can't you manage with borrowing?" Wooyoung cast you a glance, your forearm over your eyes.

"I guess. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?"

"She's just really struggling with something."

“What?”

“Adult stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, uh-huh.”

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, little lady.”

"You better take good care of her Mr. Jung."

"I will Miss (L/N)." He hung up and put your phone back down. You felt the couch shift when he stood up, then felt his body heat as he kneeled on the floor next to you. Wooyoung gently removed your arm from your face, and you turned to look at him.

"Oh, sweetheart." He sighed, hand going to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the red skin of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

"C-can you call San? And we can watch a movie? Get Indian food?" You weren't sure how to read Wooyoung's expression. He seemed to be thinking, but then he forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, princess." Wooyoung stood and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, and you blamed your turbulent emotions on your racing heart.

~*~*~

About two weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the number you plugged into your phone. You hadn't pressed call yet, the non-local area code of the number glaring at you. It was a long shot, but you hoped calling the mayor's office might get you somewhere. You had been stalling for a long time, his office would only be open for another hour thanks to the time difference. Your sister was getting annoyed with you having her stay the night at a friend’s place, but luckily, she had a slumber party she was invited to. The sun was starting to set, and you finally worked up the courage to hit call, then turned it onto speaker, at 5:57. It was probably around 3 there.

"Mayor Elledge's office, this is Peg."

"Hi, uh, Peg. I'm…I'm trying to get in contact with Carry Elledge, but I'm not sure how to get ahold of her…" The silence scared you, worried that the woman would be too suspicious to help you.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I'm…a relative. It's about…my father's will." Please work.

"I see…I can get you her cellphone number." The secretary relented and you sighed in relief, thanking her several times. Typing the number she gave you into your notes app, you politely end the conversation and went to call the other number while you still had the courage to do so. Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Hello, this is Carry?" It was your mom, no doubt. Tears welled in your eyes, and you swallowed, voice coming out softer than normal to keep from crying.

"M-mom? It's me. It's (Y/N)." More silence.

"I think you might have the wrong number, dear." You felt your face fall, your eyebrows furrowing, your lips trembling.

"This isn't Naomi (L/N)?"

"No, dear, sorry." There wasn't any kind of recognition in her voice, but it was hers.

"O-oh…okay, sorry." The call ended and you pressed your lips hard together, jaw clenched. What the hell happened? You sat trying to wrap your head around everything, about thirty minutes passed and your phone rang. It was a different number, but it was the same area code as the other two.

"H-hello?"

"Are you the young woman looking for Naomi (L/N)?" A man spoke, and you wondered if it wasn't the mayor guy.

"Yessir."

"You must be (Y/N)."

"What the hell happened to my mother?" Your tone didn't have nearly as much malice as you had wanted. Even if this guy did nothing wrong, you hated him. He sighed. He explained that he found her near death in an alleyway. She had malnutrition and was dehydrated. He got her to the hospital, she was in a medically induced coma for a few days, and when she woke up…she didn't remember anything.

"So, she has no idea about her past life?"

"No, miss."

"Thank you for…not letting her die."

"I'm sorry to not be of more help Miss (Y/N). Though, I don't think it’s good for her to be reminded of her past life. I called because she is…having a panic attack. Maybe it was your voice, some part of her recognized it maybe? It’s clear she is traumatized from her past. I think it would be best if you leave her be." You didn't want to. You wanted to get in your car, grab your sister, and drive for the three of four days you needed, and get your mother. But…she wasn't your mother anymore, even if she did remember you, it was clear her brain was hiding you and your sister.

"I…Okay. If you want to know, Daniel (L/N) is dying."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I appreciate you wanting to reach out, but I would like you to lose our numbers.

"Yessir." He hung up. Your body must have run out of tears along with your energy because you just slumped back into the couch. Something rose in you then, something bold. Grabbing your bag, phone and keys, you left your place, heading for Wooyoung and San’s.

~~~

As you rode the elevator to the third floor, you were shaking. Whether it was nerves or pure exhaustion you weren't sure. Going down the hall, you heard voices further down and you finally saw the owners as you turned the corner. San was standing at his apartment door, some bleach blonde girl wedged between him and the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, your emotions were too turbulent. Somehow it felt like your heart finally completely shattered, but you also were relieved, but the latter made you mad. You turned and fled before you could see his lips actually meet hers.

~~~

"(Y/N)?" You heard your name through the door, then Wooyoung's rapid knocks. You were slumped against the island counter, hands stinging and bleeding, shards of glass and ceramic scattered around the room. Tissue paper and packing peanuts were strewn about the main room of the apartment as well, old papers and books torn and discarded. Splinters of wood from broken frames and dismembered toys littered the floor as well, and you ran your thumb over a glass paper weight shaped like a cat.

"(Y/N)?!" Wooyoung jiggled the door handle harder, but it was locked. A red smear followed your thumb on the glass cat, the cuts on your palms still oozing blood.

"Damnit, (Y/N) (L/N)! Open the fucking door, I know you're in there." He was panicking, you could hear it in his voice.

"Fuck off." You sighed, throwing the glass piece as hard as you could, and it hit the far wall. The ear chipped off and broke, the finish over the brick wall flaked off, then it clattered to the floor.

"(Y/N), please princess, let me in." You heard a thump, presumably his forehead hitting the door. You licked your lips, the salt of your tears hitting along with the iron tang of blood. You weren't sure if it was from where you had bitten your lip or the cut on the tip of your nose.

"(Y/N). Please, I need to see you, sweet girl. Please let me know if you're okay." You didn't know what time it was, just that it was late, only the light of the storage room flowing into the room from the door. Your phone had been going off, and you hated the message you saw on it, so you chucked it across the room as well, breaking it instantly. The place was a mess, and you were grateful your sister wasn't home to see your breakdown.

"Go away, Wooyoung." Your voice was hoarse after your crying, but the door was thin, and you knew he heard.

"Not a fucking chance, (Y/N)."

"Just…just let me be alone."

"No! Open the door, damn it!"

"Go home."

"Shit. (Y/N) open the freaking door or I'm coming up the fire escape!" You knew he meant it. You got up, not bothering to be careful of what you stepped on, only wincing slightly as a speck of glass wedged in your foot, joining other scrapes and cuts already present. Shakily, you undid the door chain, and he must have heard you turn the deadbolt and the lock on the knob, because he opened the door before you could. He gasped, looking at your face, pale but red from smeared blood of the small cuts on your face. He looked at your hands too, and the bloody footprints on the floor.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Wooyoung shut the door, dropping his backpack and cupping your face with his hands. They were cold from being out in the early autumn night and you didn't even react when he did so. Wooyoung lifted your head so you could look at him and his brow furrowed in despair at the blank look in your eyes. Finally, he looked around the room in the low light, shocked at the carnage.

"I called her." You managed to get out and he looked back at you, confused.

"Mom. I looked up the mayor guy's office number and called. She didn't… She didn't know who I was. Her husband called and told me she had some kind of amnesia after he found her. Then he told me never to try again. So, I…" you licked your lips, "then I…I decided and went to your place. San was taking some blonde bitch into the apartment." Your breath shuddered and his shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"I…I went to the store, but they were out of Cayman Jacks. The Indian place down the street closed early. The pizza place was out of white sauce… I grabbed some random food from the convenience store and then when I got home… I got a text from that Jena girl, my half-sister," you spat, "dad's dead."

"(Y/N), sunshine, you must… What can I do?" He stepped closer, one hand leaving your face to grab your hand. You flinched at the sting, and he held your hand up to see the cuts in the skin. It looked like you had a few splinters as well.

"Help me clean this mess?"

"I’ll just do it, lets get you cleaned up first."

He picked a few splinters out of your hands and feet, then sent you off to shower. Wooyoung vowed to work on the mess more later, maybe even get Seonghwa to help, but he dealt with the dangerous stuff first. He had shoved and/or swept all the debris into a big pile in the ravaged storage room, leaving the mess for another time. After carefully picking up all the sharp shards and splintered wood, he vacuumed to make sure everything was picked up. He glanced up when you shuffled out of the hallway, a towel draped over your wet hair, a soft light-weight grey sweater draped over your torso, and a darker gray pair of shorts nearly hidden by the shirt. Your head was bowed, hands and feet red and he shuffled over to lead you to the couch.

"Did you use soap?"

"Mm. Conditioner stung." You sat, and he pulled your hands into his lap so he could look them over.

"I'll help you with these." He let your hands go and then his own went to the towel on your head, gently rubbing it over your hair, then scrunching the strands with the fabric to get more of the water out. Gently he laid it around your neck and shoulders to the still damp strands didn't drip on your shirt. When Wooyoung returned with your first aid box from the bathroom, you were still sitting in the same spot, staring blankly at a spot on the couch. Sighing, he went back to you and neither of you said anything as he smeared ointment on the cuts. He went ahead and just wrapped some bandages around your right hand since it was so cut up, but put band aids on the other. Wooyoung did the same with your feet, and you didn't even flinch even though you were usually ticklish there. As he finished some other little tidying things, you ran your finger over the chipped nails of your opposite hand, the polish flaking and cracked as well even though (S/N) only painted them two days prior.

"(Y/N), look at me." He prompted and when you didn't, he gently lifted your head with his finger under your chin.

"I'm so sorry, princess, that your…about your mom. And your father. But with San-"

"It was a stupid thought. I don't know why I got the courage to go." You tried to look away, but he forced you back to look at him, thumbs stroking your cleaned face. The little cuts had already pretty much closed, and he leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the scratch on the tip of your nose.

"It's not stupid, (Y/N). Neither are you, he is." You huffed a wry laugh, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. He's a fucking idiot. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, why?" You pulled both of your legs up under you, leaning with your side into the back of couch, head resting on the back cushion.

"Any many who wouldn't fall in love with you after knowing you is an idiot. I think I'm the only smart person there is." Wooyoung shook his head, throwing the band-aid wrappers onto the coffee table. It took your tired brain a bit to process what he said, but you still barely had the energy to snap your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"You've looked at him like he hung the moon for like two years but you’re still like a sister to him or something. Fucking stupid."

"You love me?"

"Yes! And you're an idiot for not noticing. That's why I'm the only smart one." He stood up to actually throw the wrappers away, using the task to flee since he was flushed from his confession. He stood looking down into the nearly full trash for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next. Before he could turn back to you, he felt your arms wrap around his middle from behind, your cheek pressing to his back. He wasn't very tall, one of the shortest in your friend group, but you were small compared to him. Normally your hugs had a great deal of strength in them, like you did as a whole, but while they were around him, they were shaky.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, Wooyoung." Your voice was quiet, he felt it vibrate through him more than actually hearing it with his ears. He sighed.

"Its…its fine. You can't help how you feel any more than I can." He laid his hand over your arm, gently prying you off of him, but pulling you back into him once he turned around. Resting back against the island, you went with him, letting him hold you close. His fingers ran through the drying strands of your hair, and you shuffled even closer when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I…My brain is too frazzled to give you a response right now, Woo. I…I want to tell you-“

"It’s fine, (Y/N). I wasn't expecting anything back…"

"No, its…I can't put my emotions together right now, but I might like you back, but it could just be my subconscious looking for comfort."

"Can I help? We can talk it out? What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want…?"

"Anything." You pulled back to look at him, looking over his face. He was so freaking pretty, his longer black hair was pulled half-up, a few strands framing his face. The ends of the little strands brushed over the beauty mark under his eye and your eyes flitted to the small one he had on his lip. You bet most people didn't even know it was there. Bringing your left hand up, your sleeve fell so it was no longer hanging by your fingers, and your index finger ran over the small dot. You flinched when he quickly grabbed your wrist, a little tighter than it maybe should have been. He realized this and loosened, sliding his thumb up to your palm.

"(Y/N). Be careful, sweetheart." With his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer.

"Anytime you're close to me I want to hold. I want to kiss you. I want to pin you to the nearest surface and…" He licked his lips, brow furrowing, "Don't let me do something you'll regret because you are weak now." You grimaced, looking down, stepping back from him.

"D-don't…" Your breath shuddered and he could tell you were starting to cry again.

"Hey, hey." He pulled you back in for a hug, "I will hold you as long as you want. I can lie on the couch, and you can lie on me. We can sleep there. We'll watch that movie you like so much that your sister hates…" You sniffed, nodding and he kissed the crown of your head before you pulled back, and he led you to the couch. Not even ten minutes later he was stretched across the old couch, you nestled half on top of him, half between him and the back, the intro of The Last Unicorn playing on the TV. You normally didn't use a blanket on the couch, not unless you were upset, so it was tucked under your chin.

"How did you know to come?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh. (S/N) was freaking out because you weren't answering any texts or video calls, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. I texted her that you broke your phone and that she didn't need to come home." Like it felt left out, his phone buzzed, and he shifted to grab it from the coffee table. You sneakily glanced and saw that it was from San.

🐯: where you at??

He just put the phone down, but it buzzed not even a minute later.

🐯: is (Y/N) ok, or do I need to send Becca home and come over?

"You better not fucking come here." Wooyoung huffed quietly, managing to use one hand and reply.

🦊: She's fine now. Leave us alone.

"That's harsh."

"He broke your heart; I should be much worse." He clicked his tongue, picking his phone up when it buzzed again on his stomach.

🐯: wtf you good? Are you mad?

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed."

"He's calling." You mumbled, looking at his screen while he looked at the TV, trying to think of what to say. He angrily slid at the answer button, having to do it a second time for it to work.

"What?!" He nearly shouted into the phone, his even louder than normal voice sharp in your ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Wooyoung brushed over your hair, "What?"

"Woah, dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Woo." You scolded, and that seemed to make him even madder.

"Is she okay?!" San must’ve not heard.

"Yes, you stupid- She's fine. What do you want?"

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Why?"

"Just go…hang out or in Becca or whatever-" You smacked his chest and he yiped.

"Did you make her upset; did you guys get into a fight?"

"No-"

"I'm coming over-"

"Damnit, no!"

"I don't see why you fucking care, Choi San." Something snapped in you, your last vestiges of rationale fizzled out. Wooyoung choked around a laugh, quickly putting the call on speaker.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He sounded like a whimpering puppy.

"Why are you trying to stick up for me or defend me?"

"Y-you're…you're like my sister-" Your fingers dug into Wooyoung's shirt so hard you scratched the skin underneath some, and you sat up, grabbing the phone.

"You know why I wasn't okay? Huh? I found out my mom's alive but doesn't remember me or my sister. My dad is dead. I couldn't get my favorite butter chicken, and the guy I like is at his place sucking face with some chick who looks like she can't do basic addition. So, fuck off San." You hung up and slid Wooyoung's phone away, so it landed on the coffee table, sliding just a bit further past where it landed. Huffing, you laid back down onto your other friend and continued to watch the movie. You both tried to focus, but after a few minutes, you both burst into laughter, and it was a good five minutes before you could fully calm down.

"I'm so fucking tired." You rested your hand over your eyes, wedged between Wooyoung and the couch and he turned toward you, blocking your view of the TV.

"Do you feel better though?" He brushed your hair off your face, and you nodded, nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Just sleep, sweetheart." Wooyoung pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you couldn't help but listen.

~~~

You woke up sore, not sure if it was from sleeping on your shitty couch or from the destruction you wrecked on your apartment the night before. Wooyoung was still asleep, curled around you, and still so, so pretty. You assumed he thought that if you waited, you would realize you were just wanting Wooyoung for comfort, not because you liked him back. But, after sleeping on it, you weren't so sure. Before, you really didn't know if you liked him back or not, but as you watched him sleep (feeling a bit creepy honestly) you thought about it. When you first became friends, you had a pretty big crush on him. The closer you got, the more it seemed he got on your nerves, and he was just annoying and immature. But after graduating, you got much closer; he really was your best friend. You were genuinely closer with Wooyoung than San, but you almost always hung out as the three of you. Could you have liked both, but chose San because you didn't want to admit you had liked Wooyoung the entire time you knew him? Did he annoy you so much because you had feelings for him, like some elementary age boy who pulls a girl's hair? And says he hates her? Gently, so as not to wake him, you cupped his jaw with your hands much like had the day prior to you.

"Be careful, sweetheart." He echoed the same words from the day before, not even opening his eyes.

"Why?" His eyes finally opened, the intensity in his gaze taking your breath away. Wooyoung scooted an inch closer, pressing you further into the cushion, his knee wedging between your legs. You gasped when he pressed closer, finally feeling him against you.

"If you let me kiss you, I won't stop there." His lips hovered over yours, tongue flicking out and running over your bottom lip as well as his.

"Then don't."

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm sure, Wooyoung. I thought about it, and yes, I have…had a crush on San. But that's what it is, like a school crush. You were right that I was stupid. I don't love you because you're my best friend, you're my best friend because I love you. I’m in love with you." Normally such flowery words would make you cringe, but yours were genuine. He breathed out hard with his nose, brow furrowing, eyes flitting away from yours, down to your lips.

"That was part of the reason I was so upset last night. Yes, I felt heartbroken from seeing San with that girl, but I also felt horrible, because I wasn't nearly as upset as I thought I would be. I was just glad it wasn't you with some bleach blonde bitch. After I found out about my mother…I was really glad it was you that came over and not San." Wooyoung couldn't hold a giggle back, trying to keep his face serious, but he couldn't.

"And I'm glad my sister called you, that you came." You smiled purely, but his turned to a smirk, the arm not under your head curling around you. You gasped when he slid the last little bit closer, hitching your leg over his hip and grinding his hardening cock into you.

"You have ten second to tell me to get off, otherwise I'm fucking you stupid on this couch." You whimpered at his words, hands leaving his face and resting on his shoulders. You bucked your hips, causing him to let out a soft grunt.

"Stupid, huh?" You smirked back and you squeaked when he rolled on top of you, soft lips capturing your chapped ones. The kiss wasn't gentle, his tongue quickly invading your mouth, tasting every inch of your tongue, his strong thigh hitching hard against your mound. Sneaky hands snuck under the waist band of your shorts, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of your ass, pulling up against him, feeling the outline of his dick against your tummy. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss, letting you catch your breath, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. He kneeled over you, pulling his shirt off and chucking it across the room. You whimpered, your own sneaky hands stroking over the skin of his chest and abs, when had he been that built?

"Up." He ordered, and you sat up just enough for him to pull your shirt off, along with your sports bra underneath.

"Fuck!" You twitched as those sinful lips wrapped around your nipple, teeth nibbling the peak before moving to the next, then up. Finally, his trail of kisses stopped at your throat, and he sucked your skin between his teeth there. It was too high to hide, and he worked the skin nearly raw, leaving a large purple welt on your jaw.

"Ah!" You jerked under him when his hand dove under your shorts and panties, two fingers swiping through the slick of your folds.

"You’re already this wet for me, sweetheart?" Wooyoung chuckled in your ear, those two fingers not hesitating to plunge into you. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, the slight burn left your head swimming. He only pumped the digits maybe twice before retracting his hand, and instead shoving his fingers in his own mouth.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, climbing off of you, then shoving you up the rest of the way on the couch, landing on it with his stomach. Your shorts and panties flew through the air, joining the rest of your clothes and he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your skin felt like it caught fire when his tongue wasted no time in wiggling inside your cunt. It was long and he knew how to work it, his nose brushing your clit as he drank from you like a thirsty dog.

"Woo-Wooyoung, god!" Your breath hitched, legs twitching around his head, that deft tongue leaving your core to circle your clit, those two fingers sinking into your heat once more. He pulled back, licking his lips, spread into a sinful grin.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He groaned, crooking his fingers up hard, battering your weak spot.

"W-w-wait!" Your orgasm was coming on fast, and his fingers kept up their antics as he laid over you again, nose nuzzling behind your ear.

"Cum for me, princess." He licked over the crest of your ear, and he chucked breathily as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his fingers, their wiggling spurring your orgasm along. You shuddered and heaved as he pulled out, and you flinched when the slick pad of his index finger lowered, swirling over your pucker.

"Huh?" Your back arched from the odd sensation, but he didn't go further than a few teasing brushes.

"Maybe later, I want to taste all of you. And I want to fuck you full of my cum there too." He sank his teeth into your earlobe, and you turned your head to the side submissively, whimpering.

"Oh, you're a good girl, huh?" His teeth scraped along the column of your exposed throat, your head twisting more to give him better access.

"Fuck, you're gonna feel so good on my cock, princess." Wooyoung groaned, scattering kisses over your neck, shoulders and throat as he wiggled to get his pants and boxers off. Hauling you back down the couch, he easily grabbed your thighs to lead you to wrap them around his middle. You sighed feeling the heat of hard cock slide through your folds, head swimming as the fat head prodded your entrance, then slid up.

"Wooyoung, please~!" You whimpered, wanting him to sear through you, craving the burning sting.

"You wanna know something, sunshine?"

"What?" He chuckled at your slightly slurred speech.

"I plan on railing you so hard you don’t even remember who San is." He hummed and you couldn't brace for his entrance, his fat cock filling you with a hard snap of his hips. Your back arched, breath forced out of you, chipped fingernails digging crescents into his back. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, gummy walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, somehow the pain of him gouging into you threw you over the edge so quickly it made your clit sting too.

"God, fuck, Wooyoung!" You finally caught your breath enough to speak and he groaned long and deep.

"You're so fucking perfect, (Y/N). Oh, sweetheart, you're made for me!" He groaned a laugh, fading into a whine as the clenches faded with your orgasm. You felt like a truck hit you, vision blurry, lower half protesting at Wooyoung's brutal entrance, but you loved it. Your hips jumped again, cunt sucking him in further when he sat up more, pinning on of your knees to your shoulder, holding the other at his waist.

"Look at your cute pussy struggling to take me, huh?" He loved the sight of your tight core weeping around his cock, slick shining along his flesh and both of your inner thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart~" He giggled, and your fingers gouged lines down the skin of his back as he started, pace immediately relentless, battering your cervix with the head of his dick. The hand at your thigh holding it to his side left, sliding down your body and gripping your ass.

"Hm, you like it, pretty girl? Like my fat cock?"

"Fuck, yes, Woo~" Your breath heaved, and you let out a delirious giggle, gasping and whining hard as his rapid pace barreled you through your third orgasm. Your cunt stung, but it was so good. You squealed when his hand left your butt, only to slap the skin hard, the sting travelling up your hip and into your thigh. He felt your walls grip him harder at the spank, so he did it again, harder.

"Oh, shit-" Your head lolled against the couch cushion, face and neck flushed, heaving for air. Your nails clawed down his chest to his stomach and he licked his lips at the sting.

"(Y/N), you're such a good girl, yeah? My good girl~"

"Y-yours!"

"Yes, sweetheart. All mine, oh, you're doing so good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, princess. This pussy's so good too, welcoming my cock home?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, dumb on his cock and he hadn't even come once yet.

"Aw, love, can I cum inside? You on the pill, yeah? Let me paint you white, huh? Fuck you full of my cum, then flip you over and give you more?" He was laughing every few words, sounding almost a bit delirious himself. He had wanted to have you like that for so long, and he was going to fuck you on every surface in the place if he could.

"P-please!"

"Okay, I'm gonna then-" Wooyoung hummed, it faded to a groan, then with a few more stuttering thrusts, you felt heat blossom in your lower stomach. His cock pulsed as rope after rope of hot jizz filled you, a few drops leaking from where he split you open, leaving a mess on the couch. Your body jerked as his orgasm faded, you almost blacked out from your own. Your clit was throbbing, folds swollen and red, but he was still painfully hard.

~~~

"Hold on here." Wooyoung moved your hands to the mount of the shower head, and you wrapped your fingers around the metal pipe. Your toes curled as he entered you again, hot water hitting his back and dripping off of him onto you. Drops of cum hit the shower floor along with the water and he started to pound into you again. The water made the slaps of the skin of his pelvis against your butt and thighs all the louder, nearly muffling your soft whimpers and mewls. Your ass was red, covered in hand-shaped welts, thighs littered with hickeys and kiss-marks. His back, chest and stomach were covered in scratches, a bite-mark etched into his shoulder and a single hickey clung to his jawline. You weren't sure how long it had been since he first got inside you, but it had to have been hours ago. You had no idea where his stamina had come from, and your once burning cunt had more or less numbed to the sting of overstimulation, tiny orgasms shattering through you without warning or reason. You felt the wet strands of his hair on your shoulders as he leaned over you, hand cupping the underside of your breast, the other over your hands on the shower mount.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I love you. I love you so much." He kissed your shoulder, avoiding a sore-looking mark he had left.

"I-I love you t-t-too, Wooyoung-!" You heaved for air as another tiny climax shivered through you.

"Breathe baby, you gotta pace yourself, I still gotta fuck you stupid.” Wooyoung giggled and you just squeaked and mewled, since he already had.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[silent-sanctum]

hiii mijin! hope you are doing well 💕 can i req a beach day with jotaro and the crusaders, y/n getting hit on, joot getting jealous, pol and kak clowning him, those shoujo anime cliche we all know and love 😂 thanks !

Hello anon! Your beach day request has been heard! Initially, I had this planned to only be at most 600+ words, but then I went ahead and found the plot to be... a lot more 😬 Also this takes place in an au where everyone survives post-DIO's World. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! ♡

Volleyball - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.2k

It’s been 3 months since DIO’s defeat and no one else deserves a break more than the Crusaders.

Everyone had time to recover from their injuries and although some had worse wounds than others, they still managed to make it out of the otherwise deadly voyage alive.

It was Joseph’s idea for the team to meet-up once more in a popular beach near New York-to hang out as friends for once rather than just allies or colleagues. He promised that any expenses in relation to this one-time hangout would be covered using the “good old Joestar funds” as the old man put it.

And since the new school year wouldn’t start until a month after, and that being around familiar faces was a nice experience, Jotaro wasn’t opposed into joining, more so after knowing you were going too.

Speaking off, a part of him held onto this ounce of pride when you and Jotaro decided to be something more than being “just close friends” and who would’ve guessed that this decision would be made in the middle of a mission to save his mother.

Now, not only is Holly alive and well but he also gained a new lover for her to dote on and gush with.

And whether it was conscious or not, you both stuck around for each other, often finding ways to meet one way or another. It felt nice to have you here with him no matter the place.

So having to hop on board a plane yet again and fly off to the States for a day or two wouldn’t be too excruciating when he knew you’d be there to make the sudden meeting a bit more tolerable.

Day after arrival, here he was- sitting underneath a beach umbrella in his dark shorts, drinking juice while watching his grandfather and Polnareff compete at a game of volleyball. You were there beside him in the shade, dressed in a loose blouse and shorts, applying sun screen as you attempted to convince him to play a game with the crew.

I’d rather be at home. Despite your many tries, Jotaro stayed stubborn and said he’d be fine watching you play with the guys. You didn’t push the offer again and after a sip of your citrus drink and a quick peck on his cheek, off you went to lead a waiting Kakyoin to the playing field.

And for the next few hours, it mostly stayed like this- Jotaro and Avdol resting underneath the shade, him watching the volleyball match with his Walkman in hand listening to music, the Egyptian reading a worn-out book that’s most probably from his archives, and the rest of the group out in the sun playing their 3rd round.

Throughout his time there, Jotaro kept his eye on the game and on you specifically, mirroring your excited smile and laughter with his more subtle lip curl and huffs. In an addition to having himself be yours, the relationship helped him negate all the passing girls who took interest in him and tried to approach him.

Not that he had a hard time ignoring them to begin with it.

What Jotaro hadn’t considered was the onlooking men taking interest of you, and the thought struck him square in head when as a volleyball match ended, one of the nearby boys- an American with a blonde mop of hair and tan skin- walked over to you all smiling and shit.

Normally, you conversing with someone with the opposing sex wouldn’t bother him this much, but the second he watched the guy offering you an ice cream cone bought from the nearby vendor, he could hear himself scoff and scowl. “Why’d you accept that?” He muttered, continuing to glare at the man consistently keeping up a lively conversation with you. “What are they even talking about this long?”

“Such an irritating sight that is, right?” Jotaro glanced at Polnareff coming over to be annoying and take part in this dilemma. Behind him, Kakyoin followed. Both of them crouched by the delinquent and joined him in watching you talk with a stranger. “Can’t be helped when she’s just as attractive as you are.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when boys from our school approached her though,” Kakyoin said.

“It’s because I know they won’t risk meeting me when they think of trying,” Jotaro replied. “But I got a feeling that guys from here are more gutsy than in Japan.”

To hammer down on that point, the blond began to point to his biceps and not-so-subtly flexed them for you to see, and you responded with a calm, wide-eyed “woah”. Jotaro rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his thick bicep once. “Why not head over there then? If you’re this jealous?” Polnareff said.

“I’m not jealous.” Both the cherry-haired and Frenchman stayed silent, giving him a mere deadpan. “… Fine. Just a bit.”

“So go there and introduce yourself as her boyfriend in your-” Kakyoin gestured over Jotaro’s frame. “-punk delinquent-esque ways.”

“And you can’t judge us for poor advice anymore when Nori here upgraded from telling you how to do things to instead doing things your way!” Kakyoin nodded, bumping fists with Polnareff.

Jotaro judged them regardless with one vertical look-over at the both of them. “I still don’t trust any of your advises. Besides,” he sighed. “After knowing her more, I don’t think she’d like me suddenly walking there and getting possessive.”

“But it’s not being possessive when you’re establishing boundaries monsieur Kujo,” Pol said.

“Don’t call me that,” Jotaro scowled. “Also I don’t get why you two are always in my business. It’s annoying. Leave me alone.”

Not that his “threats” were effective against this duo, who simply shared a look with each other before replying. “What are you talking about? We’re buddies!” Polnareff chuckled, wrapping an arm around the raven-haired teenager. “Who am I to leave a pal behind to wallow in their own self-pity?”

“Also to be honest, it’s entertaining to see you struggle over stuff like this,” Kakyoin said with a smirk. That and paired with those shades he bought from Egypt just made him all the more smug. “Gets all the ladies but can’t handle one-”

“You shut-”

“Hey!” All three paused to look at you waving from a distance with that damn American and his friends still standing near you. “These guys want to play a round but Grandpa Joseph’s tapping out for the day. I’m afraid his bones have become too brittle-”

“No it’s not!” Said the groaning old man plopping down on the sand the moment he reached his and Avdol’s shared blanket. “I didn’t want to overpower those kids that’s all!”

“L-”

“We’re tougher than we look gramps!” The blond called out in return just as Jotaro was about to say something to you. And that didn’t help alleviate any increasing irritation boiling in him. “How about you guys?”

“Us?” Pol asked.

“Yeah! A friendly competition between us youngsters sound good?” He said, ball already in hand. “Just one set of 2v2!”

“I’m down-”

Whatever Kakyoin had to say about accepting the invite got cut off as Jotaro stood from his spot and walked over to your side with his hands in his short pockets. By the time you were beside him, the blond and his posse faltered for a second when they saw how much taller, built, and intimidating this supposed teenager from Japan was compared to them.

“I’m joining.”

You gazed up at him with widened eyes and a dash of pink to your cheeks. “Jotaro-ssi…”

“O-Oh for sure man,” the American cleared his throat, nervous as he looked over his shoulder to his friends. “How about you guys-”

“You chickening out?” Jotaro said in his characteristic blunt mannerisms. “You wanted to play volleyball, looked for a player, and now that he’s here, you’re passing the torch to your buddies?” From the corner of his vision, you crossed your arms facing them, more amused than pissed at his intervention.

He could spot the single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to play off his cold feet with false bravado. “Nothing wrong than wanting to let my pals have a shot at a game, but since you’re asking for it,” he made show as he tossed and caught the ball. “It’s game on. Though I got to warn you, I have a nasty spike.”

“It’s true!” Polnareff yelled out from the sidelines. “I saw how he moves on the other net.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and walked off to your side of the field. “Hey, do you even know how to play volleyball?” You said with a whisper. “You haven’t played once during our time here.”

“I’ve watched you and the others play this entire afternoon enough times for me to figure out how to do it,” he said with casual ease, glancing down at you with a shrug. “If a novice can beat an expert Darby at his favorite baseball game, then this will be nothing.”

“Well yeah but you know playing a video game is drastically different than playing an actual game, right?”

He huffed, unbothered. “Makes this better for me.”

With everyone in their respective spots, one of the blond’s friends served as the referee and starting from the other guy’s side, the whistle blew and the ball flew.

True to his word and his ability to study and adapt on the spot, Jotaro managed to keep up with you and his opponents on the playing field, exchanging the ball countless times without break. All the while, the Crusaders watched this one game like die-hard fans at the Superbowl.

It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker when he knew that both of you had physical advantages: Your lithe self allowing you to be more agile and nimble to traverse the court and catch the ball before it fell, while he had the strength and height to send the ball back to the other side, often times targeted to the edges.

And just as the timer was about to hit the 29 minute mark, Jotaro noticed the American get into a stance with a smirk plastered over his tan face. He cocked his head and rose a brow. The nasty spike I assume.

You sent the ball flying to their side and just as he predicted, the blond took over center field and leapt, arm reared and hand poised to deliver his so-called “nasty spike”.

His palm got into contact with the ball’s surface and with a clear smack, the ball was sent flying over to your side. But as he was about to receive, a glint of rose gold zipped past his vision and next thing he knew, the ball was up in the air as if it was caught mid flight to the ground.

One second glimpse at your knowing look, Jotaro didn’t hesitate to follow your footsteps. He leapt off the sand and rose his hand. In that split second, Star Platinum’s purple gloved hand enveloped his and upon contact with its surface, the ball practically launched itself at the American at a raging speed akin to an incoming missile.

The sand erupted in a loud boom, causing a shallow crater with plumes of sand flying off in many directions as the ball hit the ground. It rolled off the now-incapacitated blond stranger’s body.

His friends couldn’t even move nor make the effort to blow the whistle from the shock of it all.

Jotaro tongued the inside of his cheek, casually pocketing his hands back in his shorts as he glared at the American. “Nasty spike ,” he scoffed. “What a joke.”

You whistled, impressed as you looked down the crater. “You did a number on him.”

He reached over to grab your wrist. “Let’s get out of here.” With a gentle tug, you complied to his wish and followed him out the sandy court. He didn’t even bother meeting up with the Crusaders, who were equally stunned at what had happened.

“You’re not at all questioning why I’m not at all offended at you knocking the man out?”

“I’m questioning why you decided to cheat and use Sanctuary midway.”

“The game was ending in a minute anyways,” you said. “And I wanted to finish it off with a bang.”

“By letting me launch a ball at his face?” You smiled and nodded. “And you’re okay with that?”

“He’s a weirdo,” you grimaced. “His fetishes were showing when he said something about how exotic and pretty I was, and it pissed me off.”

Hearing that made Jotaro want to turn around to the guy for one more solid punch to the face. “But I saw you talking to him for that long.”

“Made you jealous, didn’t it?” You said, smug. “I lowkey wanted to bait you into playing a game with me by riling you up a bit, and for you to finish off that creep with what he deserved.”

“I wasn’t-” He bit his tongue, not finishing his train of thought. “I was a bit jealous and I’m glad I got to wreck that shit-eating face of his in the process, but can you not make me feel like this on purpose? It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Duly noted and I’m sorry,” you said, eyes cast downward as you bowed your head a bit in sincere apology. “I’ll just tell you outright who and when to punch someone next time, promise!”

Jotaro paused in his tracks and with one good look at your determined sparkling eyes, couldn’t help but sigh and smile at you with uncharacteristic fondness.

“Yeah... I’d prefer that.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

I swear I would die for a fanfic or writing of Alpha Trion experience with feral bitey Orion who has no respect for his ancient ways or scrolls and like the experience of finding him.

Coming right up my dear anon! I may have messed with your prompt just a little bit. Sorry for how short this is.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Orion Pax." Alpha Trion put down his quill with a sigh as he looked over his shoulder. The feral monstrosity was at it yet again.

"Primus below, give me strength." He knew exactly what to expect, but it still prompted him to sigh as he looked at the hole in Orion's crib. He had, yet again, bitten his way through the metal bars and clambered his way to freedom. Alpha Trion would need to get a cyber-hound kennel or get a custom crib made from something far more sturdy than whatever the crib was currently made of.

This was the third crib just this stellar cycle.

"Archivists, be on the lookout for Orion Pax. He has escaped his designated space yet again." He sent the message over the private channel used by the Archives. He could almost feel the collective groan of his students as they put down whatever they were doing to find the wayward sparkling traversing the Archives.

He wandered the halls while rubbing his face in exhaustion. Ever since taking in Pax, there had been no peace in his once restful workspace. Orion cried throughout most of his recharge cycle, and barring that, he was plotting yet another escape attempt. It was draining on body and spark alike. Especially when Orion was found chewing on a record dating back to the early Quintesson era.

"Sir, we've located him?" He perked up at the voice coming across his commlink, but he frowned at the almost questioning tone. Was the archivist not sure?

"You do not sound confident." He remarked simply as he strode in the general direction of the archivist's signal.

"Well, we have found him, but he's... in the ceiling?" That was not a good sign. Alpha Trion all but sprinted until he found the archivist and a few others crowded around the base of a huge pillar. It held up the fifth archival level and extended more than sixty feet into the air. Looking up, Alpha Trion wanted to bang his helm against the nearest wall.

"Do we get a ladder?" The question hung in the air as Orion Pax clung to the very top of the pillar, his little clawed digits digging into the metal as he chewed on a datapad. Why he climbed up the pillar and why he was eating a datapad was beyond Alpha Trion. He stopped bothering to ask questions after a certain point.

"Yes, get the ladder." Alpha Trion sighed and died a little inside as, before he knew it, he was teetering precariously on a ladder with the aid of more than a few archivists as he reached out to grab his ward. The feral sparkling purposefully kept scooting around the pillar to avoid his grasp, growing as he did so. Alpha Trion had half the mind to shoot him with a dart gun just to make him loosen up. However, he was not fond of the idea of actually hurting the little monster.

A half groon and more than a few scratches later, Alpha Trion held his screeching ward by the leg upside down as he carefully worked back down the ladder. The archivists vented in relief and one was quick to grab an energon crystal for the screaming sparkling to chew on. The moment Alpha Trion put it in his intake, Orion's optics cycled down and he contented himself by crunching his way through the crystal.

It was a momentary break from what was likely to be a long few cycles of chasing Orion down while a new crib was made.

[charliehoennam]

beyond the badge pt. 1

a/n: request made by @harmonity-vibes. had been thinking about this specific plot for a long time and this lovely angel gave me the inspiration i needed. this will divided into three parts because it's simply too big lmao that's what she said. s/o to @strangergraphics-archive for the cute divider <3

pairing: david loki x f!reader

summary: his fianceé is abducted and a distraught david realizes some rules must be broken in order to save the one he loves.

warnings: 18+, dark themes such as language, violence, eventual smut, suicide, death, physical injuries, threats, abuse of power and blood.

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

two | three | four | five

What was once a home filled with love, laughter and passionate moans is now hollow and empty.

The haunting silence of the house only fuels his self-hatred. He can’t stop blaming himself because he knows, deep inside, that he could’ve avoided all this mess if he had only listened to you.

When a dead body showed up in the river by the old mill, David was quickly assigned the case. It might have taken him a couple of months, but he successfully found the man responsible for a such a horrendous crime.

The man was Frankie Donovan, a bus driver and self-made drug dealer. You would’ve never guessed by simply looking at the man, due to his scruffy appearance and uneducated demeanor, but he had successfully made around 500 thousand dollars from producing and selling meth.

It might not have been much to some people, but to a man who grew on the country skirts of Conyers, bouncing around from trailer park to trailer park and addict parents, that money was more precious to him than his own life.

No one would’ve believed that Donovan was capable of making so much money. Most people underestimated him either because of his job, his poor background or, what appeared to seem like, his friendly nature. He might have fooled many, but not David.

In the empty house that belongs to both of you, David stands in front of the foggy bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped his hip.

He stares at his stoic reflection and takes in the physical effects your absence has had on him. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Hollowed cheeks from the loss of appetite. The prickly 5 o’clock shadow growing out that he refuses to waste time shaving.

The lingering heat from his hot shower constricts the air around him. He leans down to splash some cold water on his face, hoping that it will provide just a little bit of relief. Although the water soothes him on the surface, it fails to subdue him within.

He runs a trembling hand over his face to try and keep his composure, but he’s losing it. His breath shortens as the room spins around him. What feels like rocks settle in his throat. His chest tightens with rage until he finally explodes and punches the mirror before him repeatedly.

“It’s your fucking fault!” he repeatedly shouts at himself.

Dangerous shards shatter into the sink and onto the counter. David doesn’t feel it just yet, but blood drips from his knuckles over the shards. He takes a look at his hand. His fit of fury let out a bit of the steam that he had pent up inside him, but it’s not enough to make him better.

Nothing will make him feel better until you’re home, safe and sound. He promised he would always keep you safe and he feels like he failed you. There's nothing that can silence that thought in his mind.

Once he’s poorly rinsed and wrapped his knuckles with gauze to stop the bleeding, he drags himself into the bedroom that lingers with the scent of you and haphazardly chooses a few items of clothing. He doesn’t bother with the usual button-up shirt. A simple black thermal, a pair of pants and usual boxers. He tries to get dressed as fast as he can.

David hates being in the house for too long, but he tries to avoid the bedroom as much as he can. Not only does everything there remind him of you, but it’s all still the same as you left it before you went to work that day and he wants to keep it that way.

The uncertainty of the future fucking terrifies him. He doesn’t know if you’re alive, he doesn’t know if you’re hurt. His colleagues are doing their best to find you, but the fear he secretly has of you not coming home is ever present. So, he keeps the bedroom the way you left it to create a false sensation that you’re somehow still there almost like a ghost.  Like you're still coming home, even though he's not sure you will.

It’s been almost two days since you’ve been missing. The captain made it very clear to David that he could not, under any circumstances, take the case due to his close relationship to the victim. Being off your case drives him insane, but it’s not enough to make him stop looking for you.

He might not be able to professionally investigate, but it doesn't stop him from questioning the local thugs in the neighborhood about the recent kidnapping. After coming to a dead-end last night, he spent the rest of the night driving aimlessly, hoping he might find you somewhere.

He came home for a quick shower before resuming his illegal search for you. He’s tired beyond belief, but his mind can’t concentrate on anything else besides his missing fianceé.

Sat on the edge of the bed you used to share, he looks over at the engagement ring still sealed in a plastic baggie on your nightstand and reaches over to hold it in his hands. Letting his head hang low, he lifts his bloodied hand and holds his forehead in it. His head pounds as memories flood his thoughts.

When a call about an abduction came in from a co-worker of yours, David could feel his heart sink down to his stomach. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the thought that you could’ve been the one kidnapped scared him to death.

He is in another town, a more populated, small and neighboring town who’s courthouse Conyers was appointed to. David hadn’t been aware of the newly opened case until he made it back to his car and saw 3 missed calls from his captain.

When he arrives at your workplace’s parking lot, he climbs out of his car so quickly that he doesn’t even remember to close the door to take the keys out of the ignition. It all feels like a dream, like nothing is real, everything around his is far from touch and he’s floating through the air

“Tell me it’s not her,” he begs already fearing the worst as he marches towards the blockade of police officers preserving the scene.

“Loki, I’m sorry, but you can’t be here right now. I can’t let you through.”

O’Malley has to hold him up as David’s knees give in and sits him on the curb. Kneeling in front of him, he instructs David to breathe as the air thickens in his throat.

“I-I gotta find her, captain. I gotta-“

“What you gotta do is let us do our job, Loki. You can’t work on this case and you know why. Tell me what you know.”

The truth, at the time where he can barely remember his own name, is that he doesn’t know who could have taken you. He’d put away so many bad guys already and, just like the Keller-Birch case, kidnapping were becoming more and more often in the small town of Conyers.

David is in no condition to answer most of the questions that his boss needed to ask. At least, not right there.

“David, let’s go back to the station. We can talk better there.”

“No. I’m not fucking leave. I need to be here. I need to find her!” he insists, wide eyes locked on the scene as the forensic investigators search the area.

His watchful eye notices one of the investigators lift something up from the ground after taking pictures of the object. As the woman places the small item into a plastic bad to preserve for DNA or prints, he quickly stands on his feet. Despite the dizziness that strikes him suddenly, he pushes his way through the uniformed cops, but there are too many of them to hold him back from the scene.

“Get the fuck of- Let me go! That’s her ring! That’s my fianceé’s fucking ring!” he shouts at the investigator while being restrained.

She looks at O’Malley who nods and allows her to show David the evidence. Walking towards David, he finally calms down enough and complies in order to make sure it is yours. And, just as he fears, it is indeed yours.

His hands tremble as he looks at the plastic evidence baggie containing your engagement ring. He closes his eyes as dread floods his chest.

The ring is technically evidence and is actually supposed with the forensics team to process, but David stole it from the scene to bring it home with him.

Tears drip against the plastic. He just wants you to come home.

The buzzing cellphone he'd left on your nightstand snaps him back to the present. Quickly wiping his tired blue eyes, he looks over at the phone placed beside his gun and badge. The thought of taking his weapon to his head to end the agonizing pain and guilty flashes in his mind.

Before he finds the courage to reach for the firearm, his gaze drifts and lands on a book you had been reading when you were home and he recalls one specific conversation you had had one night.

“You got a strange call today on the landline.”

You’re sat on the bed with your back against the headboard and a book in hand.

“Yeah? What’d they say?” he asks lying tiredly on the bed beside you.

Lifting your arm to make way for him, he nestles himself into your side with his strong arms locked around your hips while his face nuzzles into your waist with closed tired eyes.

“I dunno. I mean, I do, but it was just strange,” you lower your book, combing the fingers of your free hand into his luscious brown hair. “The guy just said told you to call him back or you’d regret it.”

“Probably just a prank call, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.”

“But they asked for you. They said your full name and they know you’re a detective. Isn’t that a bit too personal?”

“I’m a cop, babe. That information is public. Anyone can find that out if you know where to look.”

You nod and stay silent as you try to continue reading, but it’s unsettling.

“I’m just saying,” you start as David groans tiredly. “Why would someone call and threaten you? Not to mention you just recently closed the Donovan case.”

Rolling over onto his back, he looks up at you from his side of the bed.

“Babe, Donovan is a small-town meth head. He doesn’t have the balls to come after a cop.”

“It’s just a strong coincidence, David.”

A lightbulb goes in his mind. Finally, a lead he could work on. How the hell didn’t he think about this before?

He shoots up onto his feet to get dressed and, just after he slides his boxer briefs on, his phone buzzes again with another incoming text.

Due to his close relationship with you, O’Malley didn’t allow him to take the lead on the case. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but he knows the close relationship could impair David’s judgment. David’s already known for his temper and the last thing he needs is him risking the case because he didn’t follow procedure.

Instead, Chemelinski’s been assigned as the lead detective on the case. And, influenced by their close friendship, he’s ignored the direct and important order O’Malley had given him of keeping any new information from David.

The way he sees it, David’s a smart detective. If it hadn’t been for the close relationship, the case would’ve been his because he’s the only one that has solved and closed difficult disappearance cases like this.

“Evidence found at Penn Aire Motel, 46th and western. No vics”

“Didn’t hear this from me”

He wastes no time replying to his co-worker’s texts. His heart pounds with hope and adrenaline as his mind races with a thousand thoughts, wondering what kind of evidence they found. Even without a body or blood, assumptions can still be made based on the scene which is why he needs to be there.

Speeding in his car, his stomach churns contemplating what he might find once he’s there. He knows the procedure in case of dead victims. If you were dead, he would’ve already heard about it, so he’s hopeful it’s not the case.

As his car pulls up, O’Malley sighs already feeling the heavy headache setting in of having to deal with a distraught David.

“Who the hell told him?”

Chemelinski shrugs avoiding his accusing eyes, but mutters it wasn’t him as David quickly marches over to the captain, ducking under the yellow ‘do not cross’ tape with curious eyes scanning the scene to understand what’s going on.

“Loki, I told you-“

“I know, I’m off it. I know, I just wanna know what you found.”

David keeps a strong facade with hands up in surrender as O’Malley approaches him.

“You know I can’t share that information with you. You’re involved with the victim and it ca-“

“Yeah, I fucking know it can cloud my judgement! I know!” he shouts back.

O’Malley watches him take a deep breath to compose himself. He understands how stressful this is, especially for a detective.

“Captain, I-I’m losing my fucking mind. Please, j-just tell me something. I-I need something.”

He can’t ignore David’s pleading blue eyes or the crack in his voice. David’s a strong man who’s endured some of the most awful things life could throw at anyone. It takes a lot to scare him to this point.

He informs David that they’d tracked down the car from the location of your kidnapping. After identifying the vehicle with the help of local security surveillance footage, a dispatcher had ID’d it after receiving a call about an abandoned car in a rundown motel parking lot, just off the freeway.

No one saw you at the motel; the clerk working the desk that night said a man checked in alone, but a maid who had been getting off her shift mentioned she saw the man – who was staying in the room in question – putting something in the trunk of a different car before driving away in it alone.

The forensic investigation is still processing the scene, but the unit was able to find a small earring in the truck of the car, which was now in a small plastic bag labeled evidence in O’Malley’s hands.

O’Malley would’ve asked him if the earring was familiar, but the way David froze and stared down at the small accessory with swelling tears in his eyes is enough to confirm his belief.

He’d given you the beautiful jewel on your first anniversary. He remembers how happy you got when you opened the gift and saw the sparking, delicate pair in the small velvet box. His heart broke a little when you mentioned no one had ever given you jewelry before. You loved them so much that you wore them proudly every day to work.

He never thought he’d be the one having to identify a personal item of a victim.

“Y-yeah,” he sniffles blinking away his tears. “That’s hers.”

“We’re gonna find her, Loki. Loki!”

David can’t stand it anymore. The ring found at the site of the kidnapping and the newly discovered earring leads him to believe they weren’t left there on accident. He knows these are items you treasure more than anything and you would never take them off unless you were at home to avoid the risk of losing your precious accessories due to their sentimental value.

They’re breadcrumbs. They’re clues you’re leaving behind, calling out for him to save you. He needs to take matters into his hands.

[lincolndjarin]

constructive criticisms

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day two - afab!ficauthor!reader x javier peña

prompt : virginity loss [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 5.1 k

summary : javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, oral m!recieving, fingering, mutual masturbation, viginity loss (duh), innocence kink sorta, squirting, reader is completely clueless when it comes to sex, javier is a dumb sweetheart in this, plot w a little porn lol

a/n : yippee! this is an idea ive had floating around for a bit and this seemed like a good opportunity to do it! easily the longest of the kinktober stuff lmao which is why i didnt want this to be day one cause i didnt want to set a precedent haha. also i hate this but it's october so like i can't do much about that lmao. AND the edit was rushed bc i gotta get to work so apologies for any errors!!

  “What’s that?” You slam your laptop shut the moment you hear his voice. 

“Nothing.” You hadn’t heard him come into your office yet here he is, looming over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can’t stand the mocking smile on his face. 

“Did you need something?” You do your best to sound patient. 

“I’ve got some suspect photos I need you to identify.” He’s still grinning from ear to ear as you hold your hand out for the file. You flip through the pictures before tossing them onto the pile of paperwork you’ve been trudging through. You’re waiting for him to leave but he just stays in place behind you until you spin around in your chair. 

“Is there something else?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glowering at him. 

“What were you working on?” For god's sake, drop it. 

“Get out of my office Peña, or I won’t process your suspects.” Thankfully that gets him to leave, sighing as he closes the door behind him. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back you open your laptop again, quickly closing out your tabs. 

The last thing you need is for Javier fucking Peña to read your Star Wars fanfiction. 

He makes your life hell around the office enough as is. He makes fun of how you dress, he only ever asks you to file his paperwork, (despite the dozen others who are just as capable.) and you’re pretty sure he stole your lunch one time. He’s just in general a nuisance. (And it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous and knows it.)

It’s not like you’re ashamed of your writing, you’ve mentioned it in passing to some of your friends around the office but Javier is different. He gives you enough grief without knowing how badly you wanna fuck Anakin Skywalker, you can’t imagine how much worse thing would get if he found you’re writing. 

So you get back to work, trying to forget the interaction entirely. 

You like to work late on fridays, it makes things easier, you don’t have to come in early on monday and no ones around to bother you while you work. You’re just about done with everything as you gather up all the finished documents, going from empty office to empty office as you leave the respective papers on each person's desk. 

You’re nearly done, you’ve just got Javier’s suspect list to deal with as you step into the bullpen to deliver it you’re surprised to see him still sitting at his desk, everyone else is gone, only his desk lamp and computer monitor light the large room. You approach quietly, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible so you can just go home. You’re about to clear your throat to get his attention when you freeze in place. 

You recognize the website he’s on. 

You’d know that red bar anywhere. 

There’s no fucking way. 

You feel your face getting flushed, a deep shame settling in your stomach as you take another step forward just to be sure.

Archive of Our Own beta

And just below that, the name of your favorite song, but more importantly, the title of your fanfiction. 

You’re so fucked. 

You feel a mess of angry tears starting to pool in your eyes as you hear him groan. 

That somehow hurts worse. 

Not only is he reading it, but he also thinks it’s so bad he’s audibly expressing it. You’re livid, and humiliated, you should spend this weekend looking for a new job because he’s about to become insufferable. Knowing him, everyone will know about it before you even get in on monday.

In your rage you walk forward noisily, tossing his files down onto his desk, turning, planning on glaring at him once before leaving, hoping he doesn’t see how truly upset you are. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you’re met with. You’re expecting a smirk or maybe even a look of disgust, instead he’s gritting his teeth, his hair sticking to his forehead, a visible sheen of sweat on his face and most prominently, his hand haphazardly shoved down the front of his pants. 

You both realize the predicament you’re caught in at the same time. You stare way too long. Eyes lingering on the exposed skin where his shirt rides up, a trail of hair running down his naval. Neither one of you moves until you finally snap out of it, squeezing your eyes shut and turning on your heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the exit when you hear the squeak of his chair on the floor as he calls out your name. You don’t dare turn around though, not slowing your pace until you’re out of the building and in your car. 

Thankfully he doesn’t pursue you further as you drive home as quickly as possible. Hands tightly gripping the wheel the entire time. You can see your phone blowing up in your bag, the inside dimly lit the entire length of the drive. When you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot. You grab your bag and hurry inside, desperate to just go to bed and forget everything that just happened, ignoring the throbbing between your legs from what you just witnessed. 

You step inside your studio, locking up behind you as you toss your bag onto the bed, shedding your clothes and stepping into the bathroom, praying that a cold shower will clear your head. 

It doesn’t. 

You feel just as hot and frazzled as you did before. Maybe he was just trying to mess with you. If that’s the case then now he’s just sexually harassing you. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

You pull a tank top over your head and throw on a pair of panties before collapsing on your bed. You don’t want to look but you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t, so you reach into your bag, retrieving your phone. 

Just as suspected you have an endless amount of messages from the man himself. You're about to start scrolling through them all when you read the most recent one. 

[ I’m coming over. ] 

Son of a bitch. 

You quickly scroll through the previous messages. 

[ I’m sorry, are you okay? ]

[ Call me or I’m coming over. ]

[ Please just text me back. ]

[ I really liked your story. ]

[ I’m sorry. ]

There’s about a hundred similar messages but one stands out to you more than anything else. 

He liked your story. 

Why does that make your face burn up?

You start typing, telling him that he doesn’t want to find out what’s gonna happen if he shows up but you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. You trip over yourself as you rush to your dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before peering through the peephole. 

Sure enough, there he stands, he looks exactly like you’d left him, shirt untucked and askew, hair a mess, except now his hand isn’t in his pants. You’re about to reach over and turn your lamp off when he clears his throat. 

“I know you’re in there, your car was out front.” Well, so much for pretending you aren’t home. You hesitantly unlock the door before pulling it open, plastering a scowl on your face. 

“What do you want?” You try to look stern but you know you probably just look nervous. 

“I just wanna talk.”

You’re hesitant but you open the door fully, letting him in as you return to your bed, sitting and pointing at the loveseat in the corner for him. Neither one of you speaks, you watch as his throat bobs, he won’t look at you, staring at his hands instead. 

“How did you get my address?” You finally break the silence. 

“Your file.” He says sheepishly. 

“You can’t do that! That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“That’s what you wanna be mad about?” Fair enough. 

“Fine, why did you do it?” You don’t like that he’s here, in your tiny apartment, the memory of him splayed out in his chair takes up all the space.

“Which part?” He finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze. 

“Why did you read it?” 

“I was curious.” He looks truly apologetic, it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Really?” Your tone drips with sarcasm. 

“You seemed really defensive, I wanted to see why.” It seems genuine but you know better. 

“You wanted to embarrass me.” You say plainly. 

“Why do you act like I’m out to get you?” His brows furrow and his mouth settles into a frown. 

“Because you are.” You say it matter of factly, you honestly can’t believe he’s acting like he doesn’t know. 

“I don’t understand what I did that makes you hate me so much.” You’re tempted to soften your gaze, but the last thing you need to do if this is all just some trick is appear vulnerable. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please, enlighten me.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. 

“You despise me! You torment me every single day!”

“Really? I torment you?” He points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“You make me do your paperwork every single time, even when there are plenty of other people who are capable of it.” You feel the urge to stand and have this argument, you’re getting heated in several ways now. 

“You do it better than everyone else.” He shrugs like it’s a valid excuse. 

“Bullshit.” You snark as he puts his head in his hands.

“And I like the excuse to see you.” He mumbles before looking back up at him.

“You make fun of how I dress.” You’re quick to change the subject, not wanting to fall victim to his charms. 

“I do not.” His voice pitches up defensively. 

“You said I dress like your grandma.”

“That was a compliment.” He can’t be serious.

“How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“I love my grandma very much.” He sounds serious. 

“You’re a nightmare.” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your head swimming with confusion. 

“Have you ever considered that I just wanted to be around you? You assume that I just liked to bother you but maybe I just like being near you.” He stands as you sit up, a look of honest upset on his face. 

“You expect me to believe that you did those things because you like me? Are we in middle school, Peña? You could have just asked me out instead of pulling my pigtails on the playground.” You stand, not liking the power imbalance of having him towering over you where you sit. 

“I did, you said no.” He crosses his arms and you scoff. 

“You did not, you can’t just make things up to get out of this conversation.” You poke a finger into his chest but he just brushes it away. 

“I asked you out to lunch two weeks ago and you said no.”

“I think I would remember that if it happened.” His anger fizzles out a bit as he looks you up and down. 

“I may or may not have thrown your lunch out that day so you’d be more likely to accept.” He gives you a sheepish look. “But you were so mad you brushed it off.”

“That was a serious offer? I thought you were messing with me.” He just stares at you, wide puppy dog eyes you have to turn away from lest you fall for this act. You don’t get a moment's rest though because as you stare at the floor a particularly harrowing thought crosses your mind. 

“How much did you read?” You turn back to him quickly. 

“Enough.” When you turn back to him he’s staring at his hands again. 

You both know what that means. 

“It seemed a little familiar.” He says softly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You want him out, now.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.” You’re going to look at job listings once he goes home. 

“I think you should leave.” You clear your throat, nodding towards the door. 

“I’m not leaving until we talk about it.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sit back down on your bed, your legs feeling unsteady. 

“Well I do.” He takes a few steps in your direction and you immediately regret sitting. 

“I don’t care what you want, get out of my apartment, now.” You head is tilted up completely as you glare at him.

“Do you really not realize exactly what is happening here?” You can feel his breath on your face, cigarettes and spearmint. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him. 

This is exactly what happens in your story. 

“You’re an idiot.” You whisper, willing yourself not to get any more upset than you already are. 

“You wrote your story about us.” He says each word sharply as you grit your teeth. 

“I did not.” Now who’s just making things up to get out of a conversation?

“Everything that I did to you, he does to her.”

You don’t have a response to that. What are you supposed to say? He’s right, straight down to the confrontation where he tells her he wants her and she tells him that can’t be possible. He hates her. 

He kneels in front of the bed, moving to be in your eye line and when you go to turn your head he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“I really did like your story.” You shove his hand away as he says it.

“Don’t mock me.” 

“Jesus, what do I have to do to make you realize I don’t have an ounce of contempt for you?” He stands, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You finally snap. 

“Maybe stop taking my shit and stop giving me extra work and stop invading my privacy and just fucking talk to me like an adult, you arrogant, immature, son of a-“ He grabs your face in both of his hands as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours, you let out a surprised squeak as he cups your jaw. After a moment he pulls back and you’re left staring at him dumbfounded. 

“Now, can we please talk about it?” He mumbles before pulling you in again for a single chaste kiss. 

“Okay.” You feel a little breathless at the abruptness of his actions. 

“I really liked it.” He smiles now, the energy in the room changing drastically. 

“You keep saying that.” You whisper.

“It’s true.”

“Wanna give me some constructive criticism?” You laugh but you can see his eyes flicker to the ceiling quickly and suddenly you want to press further. 

“You know you quoted me word for word a couple of times.” 

“You’re avoiding the question.” You laugh again but now you’re genuinely curious. 

“I guess I thought the sex scenes were the tiniest bit unrealistic.”

“Unrealistic?” You feign offense. 

“Well yeah I mean, it’s written like you’ve never had sex. They go at it all night and he never needs any breaks? And doesn’t she have like twenty orgasms? I’m pretty sure she’d be in terrible pain at that point.” He laughs softly but when you furrow your brows he stops. “I assumed because it’s fantasy that that’s intentional though.” He adds on quickly at the end. 

Your embarrassment is clear on your face as his own expression goes to one of poorly concealed surprise. 

“You’ve never-” He whispers, clearly shocked. 

“I’ve never.” You finish his sentence, not wanting to hear it out loud. 

“I mean, that’s fine.” His ears are burning red. 

“I know it’s fine.” You mumble. “I’ve had opportunities to, I just… I don’t know, I guess I made it too big of a deal in my mind and now I just don’t care but I’ve waited this long and-”

“Cariña, it’s fine.” He interrupts you now, that soft smile on his face never wavering. 

“Do you think my writing would be better if I had more experience?” You say it like it’s a joke but he sees right through you.  

“I’m not sure, how much experience do you have just in general?” He stands, moving to sit beside you on the bed. 

“Well I’ve kissed people before.”

“That’s it?” You glare at him and he coughs nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

“I’ve been busy with work, it's just, it’s never been a priority of mine.”

“You do know… how to do it? Right?” You smack him on the arm. 

“Of course I know how to do it, you read my stuff.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“Oh come on, you said it was good!” 

“It is good! Everything but the dirty stuff is really good!” You groan, putting your head in your hands, he sits quietly beside you for a bit, rubbing your back. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” He says lightheartedly. 

“Seriously?” You glare at him. 

“It’s the least I can do for unintentionally making your work life hell.” He’s starting to sound more genuine in his over, it sends a chill down your spine. 

“So what? We just… do it?” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of losing it to someone who knows what he’s doing. 

“No we don’t ‘just do it.’ we do other stuff first.” He sounds amused but you’re glad he doesn’t outright laugh at you. 

“Can you just- can you just tell me what to do?” You rest your head on his shoulder briefly and he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes please.” You mumble, feeling a strange mix of aroused and nervous. 

“Well, in one of the later chapters she blows him, right?” You nod slowly. “And you say it’s her first time doing it, she probably shouldn’t have been able to just take all of him in her mouth right off the get go, especially since he’s apparently nine inches? Which is a whole separate issue by the way.” You can feel your face getting hot all over again as he explains everything like it’s obvious. “If you want to start there we can do that.” He murmurs, trying to meet your gaze but you just keep trying to look anywhere else. 

“How big is it supposed to be normally?” You chew on your lip, hoping you don’t sound stupid, you couldn’t be more thankful when he once again doesn’t laugh. 

“It depends, but nine inches is a bit outlandish. Have you ever actually looked at that on a ruler? It’s way bigger than you think.” He holds out the estimated size with his hands and you have to stifle a giggle. 

“Fair enough.” You lean against him one last time before sliding off the bed, kneeling in front of him. “So she’s like this.” You watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, everything is starting to quickly become real as he nods. You reach your hands towards the noticeably larger bulge in his strict jeans, stopping just before you touch him. “Can I?” 

“Yeah, of course.” With his approval you gingerly unzip the restrictive fabric, watching his half hard dick spring free. He’s certainly not nine inches but he’s still intimidating. You don’t have a frame of reference but you have to assume he’s on the bigger side of things. 

“You don’t wear underwear?” You scoff, trying to lighten the mood despite the combined anxiety and arousal pulsing through you right now.

“Not usually.” He murmurs, notably softer than before. 

“What do I do first?” 

“If you want, you can start by touching it, just do what feels right.” He reaches down to hold your face for a moment until you’re able to calm down a bit. You reach forward at a snail's pace until finally wrapping a hand around the base, jumping a bit as you feel him twitch against your palm. You slowly stroke him, just once before looking up at him, a reassuring smile on his face as you stroke him a few more times, feeling him swell until he stands fully erect. Almost absentmindedly your other hand drifts between your legs, you experimentally grind against your own hand as you continue to leisurely jerk him off, watching how he grips the sheets when you run your thumb over his drooling tip. 

“What do I do next?” You look up at him. 

“Spit on it, hermosa.” His voice is raspy and you sit up on your knees, a line of spit falling from your mouth onto the head of his cock, drawing a hiss past his teeth. It’s easier to stroke him when it’s wet, you experiment with different speeds, watching his reactions until in a moment of bravery you tentatively guide him into your mouth. You can’t help but feel pleased when his hand instinctively flies to your hair, not moving you in any direction, just holding you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter pre-cum as you open your jaw a bit wider, letting him slide over your tongue. As you take him deeper you feel him against your throat and you quickly gag, coughing a bit as he gently pulls you off. “Go slow, don’t take more than you’re able to.” You cough again, catching your breath before taking him in your mouth again, slower this time. “Use your hands on the rest.” He murmurs, the low tone shoots through you and you quickly go back to touching yourself with one hand while using the other to stroke the half of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

After a few minutes you begin to moan against him as you try to reach your own peak, your hand now haphazardly shoved down the front of your pants. He’s leaning back, his pupils pitch black as he watches you, his breathing unsteady. 

“You think you’re ready for more?” He says sweetly, caressing your hair. You pop off of him, watching a line of spit going from the head of his cock to your lips. 

“Sure.” You feel less nervous than you thought you’d be as you stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You feel all fuzzy and slick between your legs, your pussy aches with need as he takes your hand, pulling you onto the bed with him. You sit up against the headboard as he strips completely, discarding his shirt and shoving his pants all the way down. 

You can’t help but take in the sight of him as he turns back to you. 

His warm sun kissed skin, the wide expanse of his shoulders a sharp ratio to his slim waist. He’s toned but he’s soft around the edges and his cock stands proud against the thatch of hair on his lower abdomen. You tilt your head the way it curves, admiring it until he laughs. 

“I want you to do something for me that wasn’t in the story.” He climbs back into bed with you, playing with the waistband of your sweats. 

“Sure, what is it?” You lift your hips, letting him pull them down, tossing them off the bed. 

“I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” You stare at him, a little shocked by the request, your eyes going wide. 

“Why?” 

“I want to see, I want you to show me what feels good.” You want to feel more self conscious but he’s completely naked and something about the fact that you’re still a little covered up helps you relax, with a soft sigh you gingerly slip your hand down the front of your panties. You go off of muscle memory, recalling what you would do if he wasn’t here. 

Tracing your fingers in delicate circles around your clit, watching as he begins to touch himself, almost matching your pace. This would have been a fantasy of yours that you’d resort to when nothing else worked. Javier Peña in your bed, revealing some sort of secret attraction to you, you just never thought it would ever come to fruition. 

But here he is.

Ravaging you with his eyes as you dip two fingers into yourself with a shuddering breath, his own movements stuttering a bit as you do so. With everything leading up to this it isn’t hard to feel the familiar heat building as you expertly push yourself towards it. After a few moments more you shove your panties down completely, wanting to be unencumbered as you discard them. Without them restricting you, you can easily feel that hot tightening sensation approaching rapidly. Your breathing gets heavy as you grind your fingers against your palm, you feel the familiar fiery sensation in the bottom of your stomach as you start haphazardly fucking your own hand, you keep your eyes on the way he fucks his own until you’re just about to burst and he takes hold of your wrist, stopping you.

“Please I-” You let out a frustrated whine but he shushes you with a quick peck.

“I know, can I do it?” You nod frantically, you’d like nothing more. He gently pushes two fingers into you, you gasp in surprise at the sudden stretch as he slides them in and out slowly, continuing to jerk himself off with his other hand as he watches how you eagerly suck him in. 

It doesn’t take much from there. 

His thumb mirrors the motions you did against your clit and that’s all he has to do to push you over the edge. Your cunt spasming around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, hot white burns the edges of your vision and you keep your eyes open long enough to watch as he squeezes the base of his own cock, groaning as he makes his own attempts not to finish. You're vaguely aware of him murmuring something that sounds like praise in Spanish as you get your bearings, he slowly removes his fingers, leaning forward on his knees to kiss you. You catch your breath through the kiss until finally he pulls back.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” His breathing heavy as he nudges his forehead against yours. 

“Is it gonna hurt?” You’re more curious than nervous at this point. 

“It shouldn’t, and if it does I’ll stop, okay?” He hops off the bed for a moment, searching through his wallet before tossing you a condom. 

“Okay.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” You carefully tear open the condom wrapper, handing him the rubber ring with a nod, watching how he aptly rolls it onto his cock. 

“Probably wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” You slide down the bed a bit so you’re mostly laying on your pillows as he positions himself on top of you. He still seems worried about you so you reach forward, taking his cock in your hand and guiding him between your legs. 

You can’t help but sharply inhale as he eases just the tip into you, your eyes flutter shut and your mouth opens slightly as you sigh.  

God, you wish you’d done this sooner. 

It doesn’t hurt. You expected a stinging, or a tearing, instead it’s just pressure. When you open your eyes you find his squeezed shut now as he slowly works himself into you, rocking slowly back and forth. He keeps your foreheads pressed together, occasionally, bumping his nose against yours. 

“Still good?” He whispers, a noticeable strain to his voice. You nod, watching curiously as he pushes his hips forward in one last motion to fully seat himself in your heat. His jaw is tense and he’s breathing through his teeth. “So fucking tight.” He mumbles before leaning forward, groaning into your mouth. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask when he pulls himself away with a soft smile. 

“No, it just makes me worried about hurting you.”

“I’m okay, I want you to move.” You look down to where the two of you are joined. Watching how he gently pulls himself from you just a bit before pushing back in. That’s when he bumps against that spot inside of you that suddenly has you seeing stars, your hands grip his shoulders as a moan slips out of you, the grin you’ve seen a hundred times before forms on his face, you’d once hated it but now it has you gushing around him. 

“Does that feel good?” He tilts his head to the side, nudging his nose against your temple as you nod fervently. He repeats the motion, pulling out about halfway before snapping his hips forward again, your back arching when he slams into the sweet spot inside of you. 

“Fuck- Peña, right there.” You whine, your nails leaving little crescent indents in the tan flesh of his shoulders. He gets into a steady rhythm with it, crashing into you with precise deliberate strokes, designed to make your head spin. He grits his teeth once more, his breath going ragged.

“Javier.” He pants, gripping your waist to hold you still. For a brief moment you almost see vulnerability in his eyes. 

“Just like that, Javier.” You stammer out as he bends one of your legs up, pressing you into the mattress further as he throws your ankle over his shoulder, the new angle letting him fuck far deeper into you than you even thought possible. The soft and slow Javier starts to dissipate as he bares his teeth, his breath hot and heavy through his tense jaw as he slams into you. The second orgasm building in your stomach isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, it’s molten inside of you, threatening to burst as he brings a hand to your clit.

“Shit- tell me when you’re close.” He growls, your vision’s already blurring again as an unfamiliar pressure settles within you. 

“I- I am.” You pant out, he accentuates each thrust with a grunt and you feel yourself slip as he applies the slightest pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re positive you’ve never come like this before, you soak his cock, a flood of your release pulses out of you as you strangle his cock. He collapses into you, your orgasm sending him over his own edge. You feel him throbbing within you as he groans into the pillow next to you. The two of you lay in a sweaty, breathless heap for a moment until he pulls out of you with a hiss, rolling over, his chest heaving as he lays beside you. 

“Now do you believe that I don’t hate you?” He gasps out. 

“I might need a little more convincing.” You grin, reaching behind you to turn your lamp off before rolling yourself over so you're on top of him.

a/n : I have a very serious love hate relationship w this.

[naomihatake]

Solitude

you can find other zoro fics here: Naomi's archive

pairing: zoro x fem reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, consumption of alcohol

summary: One would expect the swordsman to unwind after a battle, but there are times when he can't help but think. Alcohol doesn't always come in handy when a specific crewmate he grew fond of cuddled a tad bit too close to his heart.

word count: 3.3k

theme song: 'Daylight' by David Kushner

A/N: It can be imagined with both anime and opla Zoro. I don't know if he's slightly ooc or not, but I genuinely wanted to dig into this side of a relationship with the swordsman. The awkward times when he's getting used to it and simply accepting everything as a new part of his life.

I didn't forget about my multi chapter fiction, I just didn't find the inspiration for the 8th chapter. I couldn't help but write this for my own comfort and I want to mention that this original art of @tea917339 inspired me (check it out, it's absolutely amazing!!!)

I'm always open for your opinions and comments, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts with me! <3

Usually, nights with the Straw Hats were lively, even after battles that left the crew members injured and bleeding. They would pick each other up and cheer up by simply bickering — that's what Zoro thought. 

The same way Luffy's hand extended to help him back on his feet after he plopped down on the ground to rest. The same way Zoro reassured Chopper after the kid tried his best not to get emotional afterwards. The same way Sanji threw some remarks and the swordsman spat back in annoyance. And, for fuck’s sake, Nami reminded him for the tenth time that day he owes her berry for something he completely forgot about. Usopp was sighing in relief every time he remembered they escaped with life again while Robin agreed with a soft smile on her face. Truly, it was almost insane — Zoro wouldn't exactly call that a miracle because he's doubtful of its existence. 

However, he couldn't bring himself to cheer up once the celebration of their victory was over and everyone went into their rooms. He was on the night watch and all he found himself capable of doing was burying in memories of all kinds, be it happy or not. With not enough alcohol in his system yet, it was rather hard to push those thoughts into the back of his head. 

The swordsman sat on the deck, his back resting against the wooden cabin. Hidden from prying eyes, he found peace in the temporary silence. Rare were the times when the crew was so peaceful and it was usually during the night, when they were asleep, because otherwise they would've caused a mayhem. 

The side of his mouth curled upwards at that thought. It was equally annoying and endearing, since in the months spent with them he found a lot of things about himself. Like the fact that he found his crew to be a family, like the way he sometimes found peace even in the chaos caused by them. 

Or like the presence he grew way too fond of along the way. That witch — she truly was one, judging by the effect she had on him. Only a spell could've made his mind get so clouded, only some unknown force could've managed to soften his edges so well. She joined the crew from the first day and he believed that a spell had been casted upon him since the first time they gazed at each other. 

Right. Zoro gulped down. The effect she had on him was equally annoying and pleasant. 

Annoying because he should've focused on his promise to Kuina, not get lost in between fairytales. He wasn't by any means the charming prince riding a white horse and he didn't intend on becoming one anytime soon. It filled him up with feelings unknown to him. Zoro might be a fan of adventures and he had rather insane ideas — as one might say —, but such sentiments were an entirely new path to walk on. 

First and foremost, it bothered him the fact that he wasn't sure he could fulfill both his promises and whatever the fuck was going on between him and the witch. He couldn't pinpoint what was happening, it was all in a blur, even if everything was clearing up whenever he saw her. 

That's when he's reminded why he likes their relationship — what kind of, he didn't know. When he saw her, there were always sparkles in her eyes and the smile on her face would grow wider, lines of happiness appearing on her cheeks. The curl of her lips would make his heart skip a few beats and he would relax his shoulders unconsciously. Eyes filled with joy looked at him as if he was the very reason behind her purest sensations. 

Also, not to mention how warm the depths of his chest felt when she was near. The heat would rise to his cheeks, which he sometimes found uncomfortable, but Zoro never ran away. A side of him wished so badly to go the other way and never look back, ignore her and those stupid damned feelings, but he never gathered enough courage to do so. Every single time, he would remain stuck, with his eyes stuck on her frame and fingers aching to touch and lips tingling to kiss. 

God fucking dammit. 

With a curse rolling off his tongue casually as he closed his eyes, the back of his head collided with the wooden wall he rested his back against. Zoro sat with his knees bent and feet planted onto the floor, only his Wado Ichimoji in his proximity. With its hilt glued to his shoulder, the sheathed sword was in between his fingers. By that time, he held it for comfort.

If that's what he could call it. The swordsman wasn't sure what else to associate it with. Or was it familiarity? The white sword was the only memory he had of a long lost friend and his first home at the dojo, by the side of his sensei. It was the only object tying him to his past, to his beginning, to times when he was much weaker, but determined nonetheless. 

To care about his promise was familiar. Zoro wouldn't give it up — proof was the simple fact that he still achieved to become the strongest swordsman in the world. One day, he will meet Mihawk again and when he does, he will be stronger than the first time he encountered him at Baratie. 

Looking back, it's been so long since. So long since a new life appeared before his eyes and he accepted it with no hesitation. He was a pirate, a Straw Hat, Luffy's first mate. The swordsman swore to help his captain achieve his own dream. 

Those promises were familiar. The erratic heartbeats caused by the witch weren't. The sensation settling in the pits of his stomach when her gentle fingers would brush over his arm weren't. It was foreign and it didn't sit well with him. 

Kuina. 

He still saw her face in his dreams sometimes and it was usually her ghost haunting him. Other times, in her place would be one of his friends and each time it was harder to fall asleep. 

When awake, memories of her replayed so vividly in his mind. Swords clashing together and whistling as they cut the air in half. A grin brightening up Kuina's face when he would fall on his butt and cuss her out again. They promised that one of them would become the greatest, but he was the only one capable of that, because her bones lay in a grave somewhere far away. 

Zoro opened his eyes and stared at the night sky with scars scattered all over it. A calming view, even if there was tumult inside of him, hidden in between ribs that broke with each new pump of his heart. His brown eyes fell to the floor and he crossed his arms on top of his knees, gripping the sword tighter. His chest puffed up with air when he inhaled and he let out a heavy sigh. 

“Zoro?” a soft whisper made him jump out of his thoughts. 

The swordsman snapped his head and he was greeted by the sight of someone he didn't even know he was searching for. A side of him wished to say something along the lines of “fuck off” while the other side desperately wanted to soak into her presence. 

A witch, indeed. 

His eyes ran up and down her figure. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, in a rather hidden spot, which meant she didn't search for too long. Did she even search for him or did she also wish to be alone for a while? The first place to search for someone during night shifts was the crows nest. 

She held two bottles of what he guessed to be alcohol and she swung them carefully before stepping closer. His chest tightened and he found it harder to breathe, even if it was inevitably easier than before at the same time. For some reason, she had that effect on him. 

Maybe he knew that reason all too well, but he just avoided thinking of it. 

“You told me we'd drink something together,” she reminded him in that warm voice of hers. 

The sweet melody that calmed his nerves. 

He didn't know what kind of energy radiated off him, but her behavior was far more gentle than usual. She wasn't hesitant, the witch never hesitated around him, she was just mindful of her actions and words. 

He didn't know why for a second he saw understanding in the curl of her lips when she crouched down. Unconsciously, Zoro knitted his eyebrows together in confusion at her gestures. 

The bottles hit the floor and she let go of them. Her eyes sparkled like they always did, but there was something different that time — a warmth they held only when she comforted Chopper or encouraged Usopp. Warmth similar to the shy rays of the sun of the morning, when the cold is still lingering and there's a specific scent in the air. Gentleness he only ever saw in her, because Luffy's kindness was different. 

A warmth so humane that was visible for the crew alone or those in need of it. 

The witch recognized something in his demeanor and Zoro had no clue what that was about. He could only see it in her gaze. 

“I suppose it isn't really the perfect time for me to butt in, hm?” she whispered. 

Like a promise only for him to hear. A secret. 

“How'd you find me here?” he found himself speaking before he thought it through. 

The question made her shrug. 

“I pick up easily on your energy. It's quite unmistakable, y'know?” 

There it was — one of the main reasons why she had the nickname of Witch both on the ship and outside of it. She's spoken about that for a few times and he had to admit he understood what she meant. However, the swordsman only felt those “energies” (as she liked to call them) in specific moments. He remembers that time in Lougetown when everything felt like energy instead of palpable objects, the reason why he won that fight. 

Sometimes he seriously wondered if she hadn't met his sensei at some point in her life. 

“What is it like?” once again, he asked before thinking. 

The witch pulled her lips in a tight line and hummed, gathering the right words to describe it. Her gaze bounced around and she grimaced once, when she probably found her choice of words to be unpleasant or inappropriate — she always scrunched her nose when it was difficult to find the proper terms. 

“It's sharp, but warm. Kind of steady, constantly flickering. For example, Luffy's energy is always all around the place and Chopper's gets out of control easily. Robin has the steadiest energy of all of us, even if it was kind of… strange lately.” 

Zoro arched his eyebrow at the last piece of information and only received a hand waving through the air. 

“Ignore the last part, I'm still figuring it out myself. No need to worry.” 

The swordsman knew the energy she was talking about was different than what he felt when she was in presence, but he wondered if whatever laid in her heart interfered with her ability to distinguish his being from the others. 

He watched as the witch looked at the bottles next to him and then clicked her tongue, deep in thought. 

“I don't know if they'd help you tonight, but I'll let you be.” 

None of those words were accusatory. They were all coming from a place of kindness and patience. 

Suddenly, her fingers curled around his bicep, below the bandana wrapped around his arm. Skin on skin, her touch was hot and pleasant, even if very confusing. 

What was she thinking? 

His puzzled feelings were written on his face. Uncertainty laid in his dark brown eyes and his fingers held onto the sword tighter. He didn't even notice when the grip on his Wado Ichimoji loosened up. 

Her gaze was reassuring as ever and she gently rubbed her thumb into his tensed muscles. 

Zoro had to at least admit to himself that vulnerability was uncomfortable. Without spoken words, she picked up on it. 

“I don't know for sure if I'll get to sleep tonight, so you could cut your night shift in half.” She's having issues with nightmares again? he silently wondered. “I'll be in my room, reading. Do what you see fit.” 

Instantly, she was back on her feet with her back straight and walked away. The swordsman didn't know what happened or what he should understand. 

He was utterly and completely confused. What just happened? 

Oh. The witch gave him space and time to think. She also told him where she was in case he decided to grip at the promise of comfort and hold tightly onto it. The opportunity laid right in front of him and he was the only one to decide whether he used it to his advantage or not. 

Zoro didn't notice when his shoulders relaxed. His body wasn't as tense as a few minutes ago, his back didn't feel as stiff. The exhale he left wasn't heavy anymore. 

The swordsman knew what this was about. Maybe it was the time to just accept his feelings and get on with it. He had to suck it up and deal with it, even if dealing with her wasn't the right way to word it out. It always felt more like she was dealing with him. 

With closed eyes, he remembered the last time her lips brushed by his. Gosh, it was so hot and his blood was bubbling like lava in his veins. It wasn't an accident, he intended on kissing her back with fever, but he had a hard time accepting everything. It was… weird. Facing that reality was troublesome. 

She has yet to lose her patience. The witch remained firm and each one of her questions were answered by gestures instead of words — something familiar for him. She was far more skilled with expressing herself even when sensitive topics came up. 

That was a miracle. Her presence alone could be compared to a miracle because it was completely unexpected and somehow always caressing him the right way. It was scary how accurately she could read him and the same applied to him. 

The sky before his eyes continued to sparkle with stars and he remained still in his place. His fingers caressed the scabbard of his sword as he blinked in the darkness, the chill air of the night invading his lungs. 

It was complicated and so simple at the same time. Zoro knew the answer — he just had to come to terms with it. 

Just as age promised, the witch sat on the bed in her room with a blanket warming her up. The lamp on the nightstand by her side casted a golden light over the pages of a book sitting in her lap. It was hard to focus on the story — a captivating part of pirate's history, sometime before the appearance of Gold D. Roger.

Her thoughts were followed by the swordsman. Zoro's mood was… sad at best. She didn't expect to find him in that state, but she quickly came to the conclusion that leaving him alone might do him good. 

She tapped her finger over the pages of the old book and clicked her tongue. Was it right to leave him? The witch never saw him in a similar mood and she also realized she didn't know how to help him. There could be a lot of ways to bring him back to earth or at least keep him afloat. Those ways were only known by him. All she could do was guess and hope for the best outcome. 

Heavy footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. When it opened wide, there was Zoro's tall silhouette, his white sword in his hand and one bottle of alcohol in his other. He came closer, his face hard as a stone. The pink hue painting his cheeks was the only detail giving away the fact that he drank one of the bottles she brought hours ago. 

“Why aren't you sleeping yet?” he said with a gruff voice as he plopped down on the mattress. 

There were only a few hours left before the sun would rise up from the sea. 

“You've probably guessed already,” she averted her eyes from his figure. 

“Nightmares again?” 

The witch only nodded, eyes focused on the book. Zoro let the sword against the couch. 

“I won't fall asleep, so you could as well take a night off,” only then she looked at him again. 

His darkened eyes have been locked on her since he entered the valley. The witch wanted to move, to eventually get away from his knowing gaze, but she knew there was no possible way to do it. 

“Are you alright?” she blurted out. 

She had to fill that silence with some kind of conversation. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest decision, considering his shoulders visibly tensed and he straightened his back. A frown appeared on her face. She regretted talking. 

The witch figured out he needed more time to sort his thoughts. 

“Why don't you go to sleep?” she tilted her head to the side. “The fight has worn us all out. You could rest for a while.” 

“And you?” 

“We'll be sailing for a few days. I can sleep ‘till afternoon.” 

“Nothing will happen for as long as you're on this ship with us,” the reassurance slipped so easily. “Do you trust us?” 

“More than anything,” the witch responded with a faint smile. 

Several weeks ago, her answer and reaction would've been so different. She made so much progress since she first met them, her trust now fully laying in their palms. Long ago, she would've backed away at such a question and, if they were lucky enough, the witch would admit she “needs time to adjust”. 

At first, all he did was lean close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. The swordsman only intended to enjoy some peace while he shared his booze with the witch. From time to time, she'd gulp from the bottle and then give it back to him before continuing her lecture. After each two minutes, the room would be filled by the rustling of pages. 

It didn't last long until he fell into her trap and tiredness dragged him glued to her. With his head in her lap, Zoro bumped his nose in her thigh. The witch's fingers ran through his hair and he let out an audible exhale, eyes closing instantly. Greeted by darkness, he felt warm not only on the inside. The blanket she curled around herself earlier was now covering his upper body as he sunk into the soft mattress and her. 

One of his hands curled around her knee and he dug his fingers into her flesh. Her leg jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but when he tried to move away, she muttered a sweet “It's okay”, stopping his movements. 

The oxygen in his lungs was exchanged with her perfume and he bit back a groan. Her voice was like a lullaby, even if there weren't many words rolling off her tongue. Zoro wasn't bothered by the light of the lamp, completely forgetting about the world around him once her fingers continued running through his hair. 

His hand traveled up, until it fully rested on her thigh, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin material of her pants. Truth be told, he's never felt better. 

She was a remedy. His remedy. 

“Good night.”

Zoro heard her whisper solely because he was near her; otherwise he would've confounded it with the night breeze. 

Maybe giving in to her affection isn't that bad. 

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 2/?

Wordcount: 2,684 / 4,741

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

You had spent the better half of that night scheming of ways actually to put your plan into motion. Sure the basic idea sounded easy enough, but you were only about 6 inches tall. His journal might even be taller than you. You tried not to let that thought bother you. 

You had even turned the string lights in your makeshift home on. If you were to think of ways to get the page you needed a comfortable space. You never liked sitting in the dark. 

The only sound in your room was your feet hitting the wooden plank you used as a floor while you paced in a circle. It had to be late at this point, and you could check and see if Ford was still awake, but you knew he’d still be up. 

Once he was enamored by something he stayed up studying, it felt weird for you to be that something, but here you were. 

If you were to take the page out of his journal, you needed something sharp to rip it out. Your needle wouldn’t work, it would take too long to rip the paper. You weren’t too keen on the idea of being caught by the scientist. 

You needed something more similar to a knife a human would use. You knew better than to think of making your own. You weren’t much of a blacksmith or crafter, you tinkered with a lot of things sure, but nothing extravagant. 

Finally getting bored of the scenery of your room, you decided that if you were going to brainstorm anything it would help to look around first. 

You clicked your string lights off and set off into the walls. Your hand fidgets with the needle on your hip anxiously. 

You always had a problem with twiddling with things. Your mother even had to put poison ivy on your nails once so you’d stop picking them and the skin around them. …You still had small scars but you tried not to pick them as bad. 

Absentmindedly walking the dark corridors of the inner walls wasn’t bad now and again. The cottage didn't have any mice, so you didn't have to worry about predators or bugs for that matter.

You wouldn’t have minded befriending a pill bug though, those little critters were always friendly as long as you had a treat for them. 

Your dreams of settling down with a bug friend though would have to wait. Reminding yourself why you came here, you finally felt along the wall for anything that could help. 

You were on the first floor. Meaning you were on the right track to the perfect spot to go looking for scraps the human wouldn’t miss. 

Not that it mattered if he noticed items going missing anymore, he already knew you were here. It was always best to avoid confrontation though.

Gently tapping on the wall as you went, you felt your body stiffening and halting right as you passed the humans room. 

If that was the noise you thought you heard, maybe the plan would be put in action sooner than expected. 

Halting in your tapping you gently pressed your body against the wall, hearing the faint whispers of a snore from beyond the wood. 

Deciding to bite the bullet you pressed harder, feeling the thin wood bend so you could peek. 

True to what you heard, you could see the human, Ford. Passed out at his desk, and even better, the Journal. 

Unguarded and open on his desk next to his hand. He must have been taking notes and fallen asleep. 

If there was any time to waste you weren’t going to be the one to waste it. Quickly pushing off the wall you took off towards the storage room he kept full of random items. 

Usually just rubbish of whatever he was working on at the time, sometimes wires, and more than often boxes full of who knows what. But that didn't matter, because you knew what you were after. 

Cramming yourself against the wall once more you operated quickly. Squeezing through the small crack made by pushing you landed on a box. Quickly you brought your sleeved arm up to stifle your coughing from the sheer amount of dust. 

Would it kill him to dust now and again or was he only interested in studying???

Pushing past your internal cussing you scanned the floor for what you came for to begin with. A small black screw lay on the floor exactly where you recognized it being. Still sharp at the end from disuse, overlooked on the floor for weeks. 

Bingo.

You jumped off of the box, ignoring the protests from your still sprained ankle as you speed walked over to the screw. 

Picking it up it felt cool in your hands. A comforting feeling in the stuffy and still dark room. The only light was from the moonlight that drifted from the window up high. 

Sometimes you wondered if your family was still okay in the woods. If sometimes when you looked at the moon, they where looking at it too. 

You began the long trek back to the humans room, debating whether or not it would be worth it to go back through the walls or just walk on foot. 

Eventually, you decided to just go back through the vent. Climbing back up the box and weaseling your way into the wall would be too much work. Plus the vents usually were easy enough to navigate. 

You used the screw to pry the grate up ever so slightly before using your hands to pull it up the rest of the way. Your wrist also protesting from where you fell on it. You seriously needed to take better care of yourself once this was all over. 

Dropping down into the vents you made sure to pull the grate shut behind you before crawling through the cramped space. Even for you, it was a bit uncomfortable but the cold on your stomach was oddly comforting. 

You oddly preferred a cold room over a warm one, even better if you had a warm piece of cloth. Even as a kid you much liked it better in the early months of fall than in the middle of summer. 

Finally, you could hear the humans' faint snoring from above you, confirming the vents were a pretty straightforward path to his room. 

Taking a deep breath you pushed the grate up. Timing it with his deep snores to make sure he stayed fast asleep.

Clambering up into the open space you could see Ford sleeping at his desk still. His body was uncomfortably curled around and resting on his desk. 

You were no fool. You made sure to plan an escape route just in case he did wake up, quickly scanning the room you could see a small hole in the floorboard. Probably made by the natural cut of the wood, but perfect for you to drop into at a moment's notice. 

You then looked at his desk. Trying to figure out a safe way to travel up it without your fishhook and thread. When something caught your eye. 

The bastard had kept your fishhook. There it lay on his workspace, just barely discernable from your angle on the floor as it glinted in the moonlight. Almost as if it was taunting you. 

Suddenly all the nerves you had were ebbing away into frustration. Who gave him the right to keep your things. You worked hard on getting the proper supplies, and he never noticed. So what gave him the right to pocket it like he made it? 

You made quick work of walking across the floor and getting your footing on the desk leg. The unpolished wood was rough enough to support your hands and feet as you climbed. 

If you could get your fishhook back on top of taking the page you would be ecstatic. Then you could move without worry and find a new place to move into. This would all be behind you and you could talk about it like it was all some bad dream. 

Now was a time for the present though as you neared the top of his desk. You had almost forgotten the human was resting just beside you, frightening yourself as you pulled yourself onto the desk and saw his arm right next to you. 

…You almost forgot how large this guy was. 

He was tall by human standards, you saw him standing next to his assistant before. 

Pushing down your curiosity you peeled your eyes away from the human. 

Quickly scooping up the fishhook and thread that was so rightfully yours. You took one more glance at him to make sure he was asleep. 

By human standards he was attractive. Hell, even by borrower standards he was mildly satisfying. You weren't one of those borrowers who actively sought out humans, but you could admit when someone was pleasing to the eyes. 

He had short brown hair that slightly curled at the ends. His glasses were now crooked with how he pressed his face on top of his arm as a makeshift pillow. You allowed your eyes to scan over him a bit longer. 

Taking in his outfit as well, a simple brown sweater with a collared shirt poking from above it. His usual trenchcoat was hung on the chair he sat on. 

His hands rested on top of his forearms, which- 

… Don't humans usually only have five fingers? 

You could've sworn they had only five. Raising your own you looked back and forth at it. 

You remembered your mother mentioning humans were genetically very similar to borrowers. The only difference is the height, which should mean he would have only five fingers. Not the six he seemed to have on both hands. 

You were getting sidetracked. Soon you wouldn't even be living with this weird scientist, so why did it matter if he had an extra finger? 

Finally focusing on what you came for, you turned your attention to the journal. That cursed, stupid, red journal. The cause of all your anxiety for the past few days. 

He's lucky you're not just burning the entire thing. You weren't above arson, but you didn't want to kill him if the fire got too big. Despite how much you loathed humans. 

You walked over to the journal and skimmed over the page it was open to. To no one's shock, it was open on the page you despised the most. 

Over the top of the pristine white paper was the name he had given you and your species. 

‘Parva persona’. Whatever that meant you didn't care. 

Below it was a crude sketch of what you could only assume was your shadowy figure slinking off into the wall. You thought you dressed better than that in all honesty. He could have atleast drawn you in detail. 

Whatever. Didnt matter as long as the page was gone. He could always rewrite it but you doubt he would remember everything. 

And the more that was lost to time the better in your opinion. 

You placed your foot on the page to hold it down as you positioned the screw at the top of the page. Pressing your whole body weight on it as you dragged it down, it worked beautifully. Leaving a messy tear in its wake. 

You almost forgot about the snoring behind you. 

Until it stopped. 

About halfway through slicing into the cursed paper you heard it. The slight intake of breath. The stutter was all you needed to whip around just in time to catch the human sitting up slightly. 

His eyes were wide as he looked down at you, the holds of sleep still gripping him tightly as he moved sluggishly. 

Screw the page. You dropped the screw and took off to the side of the desk. Already planning on using the hook to drop off the desk and disappear back into the walls before promptly packing your bags and going back to your parents. 

As you were about to drop your hook and use it to swing off the desk, you felt the warmth of his hand on your back once more before those damned fingers curled around your entire being. 

The human wasnt speaking yet but you didn't want to wait to hear him. Thrashing as hard as you could you tried desperately to grab your needle on your hip, but his hand was quick to squish your arms to your sides. 

The dizzying feeling of being lifted off the desk was the next thing you felt. You felt nauseous at the mental image of being manhandled. 

The human was stunned into silence as you screwed your eyes shut, still desperately kicking at his pinkie that held your thighs down. His thumb pressed against your neck and shoulders, almost as if he was examining you. 

Finally, you opened your eyes, and you wished you hadnt. His other hand held his glasses up, pressing them firmly against the bridge of his nose, as if he was afraid he wasnt seeing right. 

His hair messily framed his face as his mouth hung open just a bit. Clearly in awe at what he was seeing. Your heart hammered quickly against your chest as you feared you might die from shock and horror. 

You were stuck. Trapped by a scientist. The most dangerous human to exist to your kind. 

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he tilted you to the left, looking at the items you had on your hip as he lifted his middle finger. Your thighs and shoulder are still pinned to his palm. 

His palm was uncomfortably warm against your back. You hated the feeling of his skin against your clothes. Absentmindedly he used his other hand to poke at the needle on your hip. You contemplated trying to bite him. 

Your blood was rushing past your ears as the effects of vertigo hit your body in full swing once more as he moved. His head tilted to look somewhere beside the desk before you heard him rummaging. 

It was a wonder you weren't passed out at this point as his hand swayed. The motion was natural to him, but entirely foreign to the small sentient being he held in the palm of his hand. 

His eyes focused back on your form as you felt him press something against your side, it was cold and plastic. 

Craning your neck you could see him pressing what appeared to be a ruler to your side. His thumb pressed against your shoulder moving to press against your neck as he held you straight. 

“...6 and a half inches.. That should be impossible..” 

His voice boomed in your ears as you felt the beginnings of a headache nagging at the back of your eyes. In all reality, he was probably whispering. It didn't matter though combined with the closeness he held you at. 

His thumb was beginning to press a bit too hard into your neck and you saw spots forming in your vision. Your body kicked up in squirms as you desperately tried to squeeze in another full breath of air. 

He was quick to notice as he moved his thumb back to your shoulder. 

“Sorry!- I didn't realize, maybe I could..” 

He sat down the ruler before taking a few quick notes. Your vision cleared as you sucked in precious oxygen again. 

Your vision was just starting to clear fully as your brain caught up with his rummaging. He was once again rifling beside his desk. When you saw him pull a jar up into your vision you felt your blood run cold. 

You did not want to be put in a jar. Going into a jar meant transporting you. Which meant you where going down into that lab. 

   “Stop!-” 

The frantic words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you felt the human practically completely freeze. His calculating eyes pierced into your very soul as you felt him grip you ever so slightly tighter.  “You can talk!”

-- --- - - - --

Hope you enjoyed!! Will ford be nicer next chapter? Who knows!! I sure dont!!! ✰ Let me know if you enjoyed in the comments!!! I love reading them :)!!! Feel free to send me any asks in my askbox if you want as well! ✰

╱|、♡ (` - 7 |、⁻〵 じしˍ,)ノ

[bookofbonbon]

strut: in the snow - coriolanus snow.

Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Summary: Secrets are discovered, deals bartered and announcements made.

Word Count: 800+

A/N: Curious if this will make people regret their choice on the poll lol.

Your employee file proves to be almost entirely useless to Coriolanus; though the file was thick, the majority of it had been redacted, large chunks of information scrubbed out in thick, black, blocks. He learned part of it was because of Capitol laws that had come into place to prevent the exploitation of child labour; not that that had done anything to protect you. 

The other part being your participation in highly classified projects that required the highest levels of security clearance to gain access too, information that wouldn’t be lying around in a  regular old employee file in the back of the Archives. 

Your file was a mess quite frankly and clearly no one had bothered to do a thorough check of it, only adding in new pieces of information as required.

Almost entirely useless but, still he’d learn three things of high value about  you:

You had been in the Capitol for as long as Sejanus and the Plinth family however, judging from the photograph attached to your file, even longer - something told Coriolanus the photograph had been an oversight and should not have been in your file.

You’d been officially employed by the War Department at 15, primarily working in the Capitol’s Experimental Weapons Division under Dr. Volumnia Gaul - doing what? He was unsure. 

Four years later, you’d transfer out of the Experimental Weapons Division - almost immediately after Sejanus’s death - remaining in The War Department but now, in the private sector of Munitions and under the tutelage of your uncle; coming out of the shadows and making yourself known to Capitol society - Coriolanus just couldn’t figure out why; there had to be more to it than just him. 

Despite the limited and missing pieces of information however, Coriolanus was able to put one important truth together: Strabo Plinth was once notoriously known for his refusal to supply The Capitol with munitions in The First Rebellion. His stance however, had taken an unexpected and dramatic turn as he began to supply The Capitol with military weapons in droves. None knew what caused the sudden change of heart in stubborn Strabo Plinth but many assumed it was the first-class ticket it bought the Plinth family to Capitol Citizenship - given his new discoveries, Coriolanus knew that this was not the case, it had something to do with you.

It's what brings him to the door of Strabo Plinth’s office in the early hours of the morning. Strutting past the older man, the threat you posed to Coriolanus and his claim to the Plinth Munitions Empire; that loomed largely over him was about to grow smaller as he prepared to leverage his newly discovered secrets (and ambiguous claims) about you to his advantage and bring you to heel. 

-

Your footsteps are hard and heavy, striking loudly against the marbled floors and echoing throughout the empty university hallway. Most students had gone home for the day and the sun was long gone from the sky - not that you noticed, eyes focused only on the ballistics report in your hands; you had been waiting for it in anxious anticipation all day and finally it confirmed what you already knew to be true.

So, focused however, you don’t notice the figure creeping in the shadows until she makes herself known-

“Trapped in the Snow, she is- trapped in the Snow and she doesn’t even know, she is trapped in the Snow and she doesn’t even know there is nowhere she can…”

Go, you think, but don’t say it aloud. 

“Volumnia,” you close the file, not appreciating what sounded to be a veiled threat. “I hope you’re not still upset about me killing the upgrades to your laboratory. I’m sure you can understand why it had to be done.” 

She laughs her usually maniacal laugh, quietly, her hands pressed together as if she knows something you don’t. 

It unsettles you in ways it had never done before. 

- and she doesn’t even know - 

You straighten your back, all senses on high alert - something was wrong, something was very wrong. 

“Come to kill me like you did my cousin,” you eye her wearily, waiting for her to pull one of her mutts out from one of the many pockets of her clinical looking dress. 

She laughs again, louder this time. 

“You insult me, Miss Plinth, you know very well that I prefer to take my enemies out in a spectacle,” she tuts at you. 

“So then why are you here? You never just show up somewhere, there’s always a reason.”

“There is always a reason,” she repeats with a smile and speaking in rhyme. “Why I only came to congratulate you on the new season… he only just told me a few moments ago, so glad I am, to be one of the first to know - given the role I have played in your life, it seemed only right I congratulate the soon to be wife .”

“Who? What are you…” you trail off, blood draining from your face. “What are you talking about?’

She smiles wide, all her teeth showing. 

“Your engagement of course, to Coriolanus-

- and she doesn’t even know she is trapped in the - 

Snow.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Cox

Words: 934

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus burrowed beneath the blanket and winced as pain shot through his hip. He could just about hear his laptop, hopefully, he’d be able to nap and somehow wake up magically cured. He huffed out a dry laugh at the thought. Yeah, and then the winning lottery ticket would float into his room through the open window, and he’d finally find someone to publish his book, and Sirius would confess his undying love.

Sure.

When he awoke there was a steaming cup of tea and a bottle of water next to him, with his pillbox beside it. He tipped the pills into his mouth, downed the water and tried to stay awake long enough for the tea to cool, but didn’t quite manage it. When he next woke up, the tea was cold, and Disney Plus had the nerve to ask him if he was still watching. What else would he be doing?

As he sat up slowly, his bedroom door inched open and Sirius poked his head inside.

“Oh, you’re awake.” He said, and Remus swore his cheeks flushed slightly. “Would you like more tea?” Remus nodded, and Sirius came in and grabbed his mug before retreating to the kitchen. When he returned, Remus was half propped up on his mountain of pillows. “You don’t look comfy.”

“I’m not comfy.”

“Can you sit up?” He asked, setting down the tea. Remus sat up reluctantly and Sirius leaned over him to fluff up the pillows and rearrange them. Remus tried his best not to lean in to better inhale the scent of Sirius’ lavender conditioner. “There you go.”

He leaned back and found himself much better supported. “Thank you.” He smiled weakly, “And thanks for the tea and the pills.”

“No problem.” Sirius perched on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything else you need? Food? Chocolate? Company?”

Remus mulled this over for a moment. “Chocolate and company sound good, as long as you don’t mind watching Scrubs.”

“Sounds good to me, Moons.” Sirius patted him on the arm as he stood to go and get the secret chocolate that Remus kept behind the juice in the fridge.

Once they got settled and Sirius got up to press play and then got resettled, Remus felt calmer. Yes his joints ached and his bones felt like lead, but if his body had to feel like this, it was much nicer to be spending the time with Sirius, in his bed, with chocolate, listening to Dr Cox rant.

He used to shut people out when he got flare-ups. He’d felt like he was a burden and he didn’t want to bother people with his issues. James, Lily and Sirius had held a mini intervention, complete with a hysterical PowerPoint presentation about why they wanted to help him on bad days, and good days too, apparently.

“If we were in Scrubs, you’d be Dr Cox,” Sirius said after a while.

“You and James would be JD and Turk.” He replied, “Would that make Lily, Carla?”

They both laughed, Remus, clutching at his ribs. Sirius frowned.

“Don’t laugh if it hurts!”

“Don’t say funny shit to me then!” He shot back with a grin. “It’s fine, it’s nothing compared to the rest of it. I can cope with achy ribs.”

“What hurts?” Sirius turned so he was on his side, facing Remus.

“Hips and knees mostly. Also, my left wrist keeps doing a weird tingle.” He shrugged, angling himself towards Sirius, but not quite rolling over, for the sake of his hips. Sirius was still frowning at him. “Hey, it’ll pass.” He reached out and touched Sirius’ arm. “I’ll be fine in a day or two. Maybe even tomorrow.”

“You slept through two cups of tea earlier,” Sirius said quietly. “That’s concerning.”

“I take sleep whenever I can get it when my body hurts like this. It’s good, it helps me recover.” He looked at Sirius’ face, “Are you worried?” He nodded, “What about?”

“Just… you.” He mumbled, “I just wish there was something I could do to actually help.”

“You don’t think bringing me tea, pills and chocolate and then curling up in bed with me to watch 2000s sitcoms counts as actually helping?” He squeezed Sirius’ arm gently and paused as Sirius’ eyes flicked down to where his hand was resting. “Pads, you’re such a massive help. I appreciate you so much.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one reassuring you?” Sirius huffed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I know it’s frustrating, or concerning, or whatever.” He traced his thumb over Sirius’ forearm. “But it is what it is. Unless you’ve become a wildly rich and determined doctor overnight, you’re doing everything you can.”

Sirius nodded eventually. “Thanks. Sorry for making your illness about me.”

“It’s a nice change from it being about me.” Remus smiled over at him, “I really do appreciate you.”

“I love you.” Sirius’ eyes were wide as he realised what he’d said. “I mean— I—” He sighed, “No, I mean, I love you.”

Remus stared at him before a grin broke across his features, “Yeah?” Sirius nodded, looking anywhere but Remus’ face. “I love you too.”

Sirius’ eyes were on his and the intensity in them made his stomach somersault. “You do?”

“Uh, yeah.” Remus moved his hand up to the side of Sirius’ neck and ran his thumb along Sirius’ jaw. “Two things though. One. If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to come over here, I love you but I love my hips more. And two. Could you check the window for me? I’m expecting a lottery ticket anytime now.”

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : I]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: you have always denied your own power. But fate has its own path. Sometimes it can be changed, but often it cannot be avoided. You realized this truth when you met him for the first time, as you stepped into your seventeenth year.

Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)

➡  Intro // EP : II // EP : III // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VI // EP : VII

[Episodes 1] There is no escape—we pay for the violence of our ancestors

"We were once far greater than this," That's what your mother often told you many times when you were much younger.

For the most part, the tales from your mother's lips were no different from myths. The details were ancient and blurred by time, seeming more like delusions than truths. People never believed anything she said, dismissing her as just another mad woman with an unsound mind.

You were the only one who fully believed your mother, not just because she was your mother.

But because you saw it, just as your mother had seen, and just as all your ancestors before them had seen.

The Awakening —that's what your mother called it. It was said that one of your distant ancestors could look back into the past and see thousands of years into the future.

Mother believed this was a gift, a great inherited legacy passed down through blood, bone, and spirit, strung together for countless eons.

You thought the opposite. You saw it more as a curse.

Since the collapse in the past, your lineage has greatly weakened, and not everyone could bear the Awakening like your great ancestors. Knowing too much, even knowing what shouldn't be known, was an unnatural mechanism that directly affected both body and mind. The more one saw, the more twisted and destroyed they became.

Thus, everyone's fate was not much different. Most ended up committing suicide or being killed. A few went mad, and even fewer were scorned and despised by others as being crazy.

Fortunately, your mother was the latter.

You firmly believed this, until your mother intentionally gave you poison to drink when you were fifteen.

"Drink it," Your mother voice was harsh as she placed the glass on the wooden table in front of you. Inside was a pungent blue liquid that smelled like cinnamon mixed with some kind of medicine. She had a glass in her own hand as well, gripping it tightly as if it were precious. Her blue eyes, once as dark as ink, were now pale and vacant, not even bothering to look at you.

For a moment, just a few seconds but feeling like an eternity, as the strange smell wafted into your nose, the awakening enveloped your senses. You looked up into your mother's eyes, acutely aware of what she was about to do.

"Ten percent, Hara," your mother told you, her voice flat and emotionless. "Worth the risk."

That was the last sentence before she drank the poisoned glass in one gulp. Your mother's entire body collapsed in front of you, and never woke up again.

Outsiders judged on their own that your mother was insane, deranged to the point of trying to commit suicide along with her own daughter using some strange, untraceable poison.

And since then, you have always denied your own power.

You didn't want to be like your mother, and you didn't want to end up like others in the past.

But fate has its own path. Sometimes it can be changed, but often it cannot be avoided.

You realized this truth when you met him for the first time, as you stepped into your seventeenth year.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, filled with panic. Your entire body hangs suspended in mid-air, swaying back and forth as you struggle to find a way to escape. But no matter how hard you try, it is useless. The straw rope from the trap binding your ankles is too tight, and the branch of the large tree to which the rope is attached is too strong. You know well that you have no way of getting out of here unless someone comes to help.

"Say ‘please’."

You look towards the voice, seeing an upside-down image of a man leaning against that tree. He wears an old black cloak with patches of mending here and there. One hand casually twirls a short knife, its sharp tip gleaming in flashes of sunlight.

You respond by spitting at him.

Of course, your saliva doesn't reach his face, barely making it to his feet. It becomes yet another futile attempt on your part. He laughs at you mockingly, and that laughter irritates you even more. You struggle harder until you can feel the straw rope fibers cutting into the flesh of your ankles. Blood begins to trickle out bit by bit.

"You're about to cut off your own legs, you know that?"

You stop your actions when he approaches. Those black eyes still gleam with amusement as he stands watching your pitiful state for a moment, deliberately torturing you a little for your defiance, before finally deciding to help.

One of his hands swiftly cuts the rope, while his other arm wraps around your waist to prevent you from headbutting the ground. You had never known his strength until today, discovering that he could carry your body and flip you back to standing on the ground with just one arm, without his expression changing one bit. As if you were just a plank of wood, not a full-grown human.

"You shouldn't run away like this," he says, gesturing around the dense forest. Wherever one looks, there is nothing but trees and grass packed tightly everywhere. "The planet Khofar is full of dangers. Even most bounty hunters don't like coming here much."

You already knew that, and it was the main reason why you chose to hide on this wild, forested planet for the past two years.

Who would have thought you'd meet someone else crazy and brave enough to come here too?

"What's here that's more dangerous than you?" You retort without hesitation.

You have never trusted this strange man, and this isn't the first time you have tried to escape from him. But whenever you manage to find a way to run, he always tracks you down, like a game of cat and mouse.

And you are quite sure that he enjoys hunting you. The gleam in his eyes reveals as much, clear, and undisguised.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The man smiles mischievously without flinching. His hand grips your upper arm, refusing to let go. You feel yourself shrink when standing close to him. He is as tall and large as a stone pillar, his sharp features with a slight beard giving off an atmosphere of stern seriousness. Even though there is a playful smile on his face, it does nothing to diminish his intimidating presence.

"Alright, little girl. Instead of just running away like this, don't you think it's time we sit down and have a real talk?"

He bends down, bringing his eyes level with yours. You see the scrutinizing, fault-finding look in his eyes as they survey every feature of your face, stripping you bare with his piercing gaze, trying to find the slightest sign of anything you might be hiding.

"Tell me, how does a small woman like you, who has nothing, end up becoming a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head?"

Wanted Criminal—that's what Qimir has called you since your first encounter, and it is the same reason you have been stuck with him for so long.

Someone, or perhaps many people, have decided to label you a criminal, putting a price on your head as if you were dangerous, even though you haven't done anything terrible at all.

Your only crime was being born into this lineage. That alone is enough to be branded as a danger, unworthy of living in any galaxy.

True, those events have long passed, so much so that most people have forgotten that your ancestry once existed in this universe. But there are still some groups who remember well. These are people who fear history will repeat itself, wanting to permanently erase the cursed bloodline, and those who desire to exploit the hidden power that exists only in your family line.

And when your mother chose to die early, there was no one left but you—the only bloodline of past greatness still breathing and sane. Now you are the final target being hunted relentlessly by those people.

You don't have many choices. The only way to survive safely is to keep running aimlessly, like a legless bird that never stops flying until death, trying to hide as discreetly as possible.

You have lived like this all along, never being caught once, and never revealing yourself to anyone. But even Homer sometimes nods. Eventually, failure creeps up on you unexpectedly when this strange, peculiar man appears.

Qimir is a smuggler and mercenary who takes on any job that pays well, legal or illegal. Like other bounty hunters, he seeks fortune by hunting you, but he managed to do what many others couldn't—he was the first to find you and capture you without getting his throat slit first.

You are puzzled by this man. It is strange that he doesn't just kill you but instead keeps you like a stray animal he has taken in. He doesn't imprison you but won't let you leave either. His mind is full of endless curiosity, questioning everything about you. He keeps asking you repeatedly why an ordinary girl like you has such a high bounty on your head.

Of course, you have no intention of answering him, no matter how much he persists.

"It seems everyone wants to get their hands on you. Did you know even the Jedi are looking for you?" Qimir had told you, his tone a mix of warning and intimidation. "You're not secretly some kind of Sith or something, are you?"

'Sith' is a forbidden word throughout the Empire. The name of an evil, ruthless sect that believes in absolute power and tyranny. They are the complete opposite of the Jedi, known as the guardians of virtue and keepers of peace in the universe.

Hearing this, you can't help but laugh derisively. To you, both Jedi and Sith are bizarre, extreme factions locked in an endless struggle, as if the entire universe were just black and white.

"I don't have the Force, so I can't be a Sith. And I can't be a Jedi either," you reveal, cautiously avoiding saying more than necessary. "I'm just me, nothing more."

Qimir stares at you intently, his eyes narrowing slightly and thick eyebrows furrowed. It is clear he doesn't believe what you say. If he had the Force, you think he must be trying to read your mind right now.

But even a Jedi couldn't do anything. You have learned many things from your mother's teachings, one of which is how to shield your mind. Without your permission, no one can invade your thoughts.

Qimir sighs and shakes his head slowly, eventually giving up his attempt to catch you lying. "Then you're useless," he says, and you see this as a great opportunity.

"Exactly. My mother used to say keeping a Tooka was more useful than keeping me," you say, biting your lip as your left leg throbs with pain from a deep wound. You are too tired to fight him and can't even walk properly, which only makes your words seem more plausible. "And now, with my injured leg, I'll just be a burden to you..."

Qimir glances at you again, considering the serious, solemn expression you are feigning. A slight smile tugs at his lips, nearly breaking into a laugh. He isn't fooled by your act.

"For a burden worth Nova Crystals, I'm willing to carry it," he says.

He doesn't just speak—in the blink of an eye, he wraps an arm around your waist and easily lifts your body over his shoulder, causing you to scream in surprise. Hearing the satisfied laughter from him only makes you more furious and resentful towards this man.

I must kill him and escape your resolve is firm, even though you know it won't be easy.

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

Planned Obsolescence

Pt 1

Danny liked to think he had made a life for himself outside of the hero gig, that he'd put down the metaphorical cape, gone to fancy engineering school, and landing himself a job at S.T.A.R. Labs.

So walking into the main lobby at 6am he was understandably a little unnerved to find a member of the Justice League there, waiting for him.

"Dr. Fenton!" His boss called him over from where she'd been chatting with the new guests. "We've been waiting for you, come with us."

Danny was suddenly extremely uncomfortable, part of the main hero force of his home dimension was suddenly staring at him intently. If they'd been tipped off about his dead-ness then he was in a whole world of trouble.

"Uh, Dr. Norris, what exactly is going on?" He asked, nervously.

"We'll discuss it in my office, follow me."

The slowly walk up to the office was a new type of torture, trying to push down his panic and watching the hero watch him from the corner of his eye.

With his supervisor and him were Nightwing and some random Dude who, while not in costume, still held himself with his shoulders squared and his stance wide in the same way.

The guy must've seen him staring and introduced himself. "I'm Ted Kord, I work as a, uh, civilian contractor with the Justice League."

Danny's eyes narrowed but he didn't voice his skepticism. "Damn, how do you even get a job like that?" Kord, that sounded familiar.

The guests all shared a look as they stepped into the office, Dr. Norris finding her seat behind her desk. "Well actually, that's what we came here for."

Danny was immediately on edge, he wasn't on good terms with the government already. He remembered in that moment where he remembered the name 'Kord' from.

"This is about my parents' work, isn't it?" He accused, continuing when he got no response. "You're from Kord Omniversal," he said to Kord, "You wouldn't go running to S.T.A.R. Labs, your competitor, unless we really had something you didn't." He let the silence stew.

Danny had put a lot of work distancing himself from the legacy of his parents, going so far as to pull most of their research from public access once he gained ownership of it after their deaths. It really bothered him to still be associated with them and their body of work now that he had a name for himself and a reputation he had built on his own.

Awkwardly, Nightwing stepped up to fill the silence, doing his best to ignore the mounting tension.

"We know you have your parents' complete research, but while we need that your expertise in building and designing," he gestured with his hands as he searched for the right word, "unique machines-"

"You want me to build you a portal." Danny interrupted shortly.

"To another dimension, yes." Nightwing responded, cringing a little.

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing to the ancients that he could just run off and be a hermit in the mountains. Appalachia would work well, a healthy supernatural community for occasional social interactions and minimal contact with stupid fucking humans.

"What would I get out of it?"

"Money, government contract, that looks good on a resume." Kord responded.

He looked to Dr. Norris, pleading with his eyes for a reason not to take it.

"Dr. Fenton taking on a contract with the Justice League would open up some in demand employment opportunities for you here at S.T.A.R. Labs, positions with better pay and access to better materials." She pushed him a manilla folder smiling, and when he opened it Danny saw contract pre-written, addressed to him.

He snapped it shut and took a deep breath to ground himself. "Where do you wanna go?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Being picked up for work via Zeta Tube was a new brand of surreal, even for a Teen-Hero Turned Engineer.

The automated voice called out his designation, "G-09: Daniel Fenton", as he stepped into his new temporary laboratory. The workspace was top of the line, and lined with cameras. The constant surveillance was going to make this very hard, seeing as he's now stuck with staying humans the whole time, and is no doubt going to be bugged going home.

Something was sketchy about this whole ordeal. Danny hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of the other members of the Justice League, and even though he's handling a task drenched in the occult, he hadn't had to consult any League Affiliated occultists.

Batman was notorious for going through research and experiments with a fine tooth comb, and yet Danny hadn't been called in to explain himself nor the obvious holes in the material he submitted to them, intentionally omitting parts both to keep the more dangerous parts out of government hands and to see where he stood.

And it appears he stood at the crossroads- holding, though his unique and specialized knowledge, all the cards. Nightwing was desperate, something had at least a few of the more senior members out of contact, including whoever they had that knew anything about magic and the multiverse. And it had everything to do with what was on the other side of the portal they wanted him to build.

Any magician worth their own ass knew that mechanical portals outside their own group of dimensions, known as a format due to their similarity in inhabitants and history, never fucking work. Spell portals were the only type that ever made it out, and it took an exceptionally strong caster to open one for even a few seconds.

Any portal trying to leave would just find themselves in the hub, the space between dimensions in a format, same as any portal without a destination or goal which is why it was relatively easy for the Fentons to punch a hole into the Infinite Realms.

As it stood Nightwing really should know that what he was asking of Danny should by all means be impossible.

He purposefully set his file box down on his desk Infront of a hidden camera, it would be hard to work around later when he needed the space but it was worth it to make his point. He knew he was being watched. And he didn't like it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Walking into the nearly empty conference room, Dick Grayson slid onto the table and laid down. Being alone with some friends in the watchtower free to sit on the fancy, expensive surfaces however he wished sounded like childhood Dick's dream, but now it was just depressing.

"You know you're taking a massive risk with this one, right?" Cyborg asked from the head of the table. "I know our options aren't too great, but this is just miserable."

"Cy, we are beyond the point of miserable."

The half machine groaned and put his head in his hands. "Constantine would shoot us for even trying this bullshit, first for mixing tech and magic, then again for hiring a Fenton!"

"Yeah well, the blonde bastard is stuck with the rest of the League on the ruins of fucking Azarath, and Dr. Fate fucked off to whatever he's deemed more important than us so there's not much by the way of options!"

Cyborg massaged his temples. "This guy's tech is off." He pulled out the papers Dr. Fenton had submitted on his research. "I know confronting him about the inconsistencies will just scare him off, but it's not just that! The tech he brought in, I tried interfacing with it and it just repelled me. There's something wrong with it."

Nightwing rolled his head over to look at him critically. "Something magic? Something interdimensional? Because if so that's what we hired him for."

Cyborg opened his mouth to respond but at that moment a bright flash of light filled the room as The Flash zipped into the room.

"Hey so I know you guys told me to check out his old home for signs of that portal, but the whole place is fucking weird."