#Though I ran out of energy after doing five

[inthegardensofourminds]

May the Fourth be with you!

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

[hihomeghere]

Carousel Club | Five Hargreeves / Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After being dropped into 1963, you find work at the Carousel Club as a dancer. While following a tip where Luther could be, Five sees your routine. Overwhelmed by jealousy he sneaks into your dressing room. (I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters.) Warnings/Tags : Smut, cursing, piv, men being sexist (its the 1960s what do you expect?) dom!Five, Aged up!Five. A little bit of angst. Not requested.

You always trusted your husband. He was your constant in a very fucked up world. You knew he would never purposely harm you, or put you in harm's way. Sometimes that meant following him through time and space, other times it meant trusting him to not burn your dinner. So when he said he had a way out of the mess you and your in-laws had caused, of course you trusted him wholeheartedly. 

You grasped Five’s hand tightly in your own, feeling a sense of deja-vu from the last time you two tried to spacial jump. Diego gingerly held your other hand, you looked up at him giving him a curt nod. He returned the nod before looking around at the rest of his siblings. You raised your eyes to the gaping hole in the ceiling, the intricate details of the theater framing the crumbling moon. Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. You gave him a reassuring smile, well as reassuring as you could.

Electricity crackled around the seven of you, wind whipping your hair in front of your face. Five’s grip on your hand was almost crushing, like you were his lifeline. A giant blue orb of energy appeared above your family, growing and glowing. Five strained under the pressure, his face contorting into a pained expression. The blue light enveloped you all, flickering and pulsing. 

“Hold on! It’s gonna get messy!” Five yelled as the ground shook beneath you, shutting your eyes tightly you felt yourself being pulled away from Five and Diego. You only had a moment of panic before you were thrown to the ground.

You groaned sitting up, the blue light of energy blinding you. You raised your hand shielding your eyes.

“Five!” You yelled as you got to your feet. As fleeting as the orb had appeared it disappeared, as though someone had turned an old tv off. Was that a flash, or just your imagination? You shook your head, taking in your surroundings. No Five, no siblings, no briefcase. Where the hell were you? 

You wandered down the alleyway to the main street. Your hip twinged in pain after taking the brunt of your fall. You looked around the street, the lampposts and storefront neon signs were your only light source. You sank down on a bench, letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes wandered to a newsrack, you quickly got to your feet. You ran to it, holding the sides of the glass case. 

August 1st, 1963. Dallas, Texas.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Damn it, Five. Shit, Alison. God, where were the rest of Five’s siblings?

“Honey, are you alright?” A soft voice asked, you turned your head sharply. You were met by a sweet woman’s face, big blond hair and bangs. She had a cardigan wrapped tightly around herself as she reached out to touch your shoulder. You shook your head, still coming to terms with the last five minutes. “Come on, I’m just about to go get something to eat, why don’t you join me?” She said, smiling sweetly.

“I-” You cleared your throat, “I don’t have any money.” You said, shaking your head. “Well then my treat.” She said helping you to your feet. You followed the woman down the streets of Dallas to a quaint diner. You sat down across from her, taking a look over the menu. People chattered mindlessly around you as you came to terms with your situation.

“I’ve seen that look before.” She said, setting her menu down on the table. 

“What look?” You said furrowing your eyebrows.

“That look. Every girl I work with has had that same look.” She huffed thanking the waiter as he set down a coffee cup in front of her. “Small girl in the big city, not knowing where you’re gonna stay or what you’re gonna eat. Believe me, I’ve seen that look before because I’ve felt that before.” She said reaching across the table, taking your hand in hers. “So what’s your story, sweetheart?” You took a breath, choosing your next words carefully.

“My husband and I got separated.” You whispered, “My parents didn’t agree with our marriage and so we ran away. He was supposed to meet me here in Dallas but he didn’t show.” You said, not technically a lie, Five was supposed to be here with you.

“Oh dear,” She tsked, “well you do not have to worry about that anymore. I’m so glad I found you! You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.” You smiled, hopefully Five wouldn’t make you wait much longer. 

“Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t caught her name.

“Autumn.” She answered, holding out her hand for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n.” You smiled, taking her hand.

“You know Y/n, I could put in a good word for you with my boss. He may seem a bit rough around the edges, but we’re always short staffed.” She shrugged. Whatever the job was you would only have it for hopefully a week tops before Five caught up with you, along with his siblings.

“I appreciate it Autumn.” You smiled, patting her hand.

-

When you arrived at Autumn's place of work you wondered if you were a little over your head. You followed Autumn into the back entrance of the nightclub. You passed by many half dressed women, putting on their makeup and outfits. 

“This way sweetheart!” Autumn called, you picked up your pace following her through the dressing room. Once on the main floor of the club you were greeted by the intense smell of cigars. Autumn had all but disappeared, you wandered through the tables. Trying to work your way to the front of the club, while also trying to avoid the men’s wandering hands at the tables. 

“Y/n!” She called from a table, you turned your head. The club was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You were face to face with Jack Ruby, the man who would put the hit out on Lee Harvey Oswald. You gulped, straightening your shoulders you walked over to them.

“Mr. Ruby, this is Y/n she’s looking for a job.” Autumn said, clasping her hands together. Jack looked you over, a cigar dangling from his lips. 

“Y/n who?” He said leaning back in his chair. You stuttered but only for a second.

“Y/n L/n,” You said with a smile, Hargreeves might get Five or your in-laws in trouble if anyone here caught wind of that name. He puffed his cigar, leaning over to whisper something to the man next to him. He chuckled before nodding, you bit your cheek. Feeling like a piece of meat in front of these men.

“Can you start tonight?” He said, lacing his fingers together. 

“Of course.” You replied, Autumn cheered quietly beside Mr. Ruby.

“Autumn, be a dear and show her the dressing rooms. Tell ‘em I want Miss Y/n to be on stage by tomorrow night.” He said motioning with his cigar in hand. On stage? You turned sharply looking toward the stage of the nightclub, scantily clad women fanning themselves with large feather fans. 

“Yes sir Mr. Ruby!” Autumn giggled, taking your arm and walking you towards the back.

-

You sat in front of your vanity, lined by bright golden bulbs. Brushing glitter onto your eyes before adding your long eyelashes. It had been three months since you had taken on your new job, along the way you had made many friends. You felt for all the girls alongside you, it was a rough profession but it paid well. You pulled your robe close around your body, walking over to the clothing rack. You rifled through the sheer jeweled fabric before your eyes landed on the black and white body suit. You threw your outfit over your arm heading back to your vanity. You were greeted by a beautiful bouquet of red roses, Autumn standing next to them with a coy smile.

“Autumn! Who are these from?”

“A secret admirer,” she cooed her bright red lips pulling back into a smile, “Just teasing! It’s from all of us girls here,” She said as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. Her cheap perfume floods your senses along with her sweet sweat.

“Y’all didn’t have to do that!” You smiled as she pulled away, she only waved you off.

“You’re one of the best here! Don’t know where you learned all your little tricks.” She said bumping your elbow with her own. She looked down at your costume in your arms. “Need help?” Autumn asked, holding out her hand. 

“Yes please.” You said handing her your suit as you lowered your robe. You held onto her shoulders stepping into the suit, you adjusted your straps as Autumn tightened your corset. You admired yourself in the mirror, since taking on your new job you had become more toned. More than when you had worked at the commission, and these clothes were definitely more flattering than your blue suits you used to wear. You took in a sharp breath as Autumn pulled through the last loops, tying the ribbon with a neat bow.

“Alright sister, you’re ready.” She said squeezing your shoulders.

“Thanks Autumn, now go take your break!” You said waving her off. 

“Y/n! You’re on next!” Shannon called from the stage door. You nodded, quickly stopping to smell the sweet scent of your roses before grabbing your tulle skirt. You tied it around your waist as you walked backstage. You picked up your red feather fans, taking a deep breath. You walked up to the closed red curtains listening to the deafening cheers and whistles. You heard the clink of the ropes being pulled back before you were blinded by the spotlights. You closed your eyes, bowing your head, your body covered by the bright red fans. 

You started your routine, swaying your hips seductively as you pulled the fans back away from your body teasing the audience. You lost yourself in the music, thankfully it was difficult to decipher anyone’s face over the shadows cast by the spotlights. You unclipped the tulle skirt, throwing it off stage. You could make out a certain group of sailors, and a rather large man standing by the bar. 

You teased the audience, covering your body with the fans before flashing them a glimpse of your shimmering body suit. You pulled the fans over your head, rotating your hips in a circular motion as you lowered into a squat. You bounced on your heels before jumping back up to your feet. You smirked as the men whistled and cheered. 

The music slowed, and faded out as you walked behind the red curtain. You dropped off your fans before heading back to your dressing room. You opened the door, shutting it behind you. 

“Who sent the roses?” Five’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head sharply, meeting Five’s predatory gaze.

“Five!” You gasped, your heart soaring in your chest. “When did you get here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said, crossing his arms. Your smile fell off your face, what was his problem? It’s not your fault that he dropped you off in the middle of 1963 with no resources. 

“Three months ago.” You said furrowing your brows, “I’ve been looking for you this whole time!” He scoffed, clicking his tongue.

“Oh really? It looks like you’ve been getting enough attention without me.” He huffed, glaring at the bouquet of roses.

“Excuse me for finding a way to survive here.” You spit pushing past him, knocking his shoulder against yours. You took a seat in front of your vanity, pulling out your makeup kit. He stalked up behind you, towering over you. He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him through the mirror, effectively smearing your bright red lipstick.

“You’re mine.” He sneered, his lips pulling back over his teeth. You flushed, heat pooling in your core. You stared up at him through the mirror, his fingers squeezing your lips together. “Got it?” He asked. You glared at him, a devilish thought entering your mind. 

You kept quiet, smirking as you watched a shadow pass over his features. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“You must need a lesson.” He smirked, pulling you to your feet, you stumbled slightly in your heels. He kicked the chair away, you jumped as it thudded against the carpeted floor. His arm moved behind you, sweeping everything off of your vanity along with the roses. They crashed to the floor, the vase shattering. He pushed you against the vanity, caging you in with his arms as he slammed his hands against the mirror. He stared down at you with a wolfish grin, you felt yourself flush. Your heart started to beat faster as you squirmed under him.

“Yes sir.” You said tilting your chin up, staring at him through your lashes. He growled spinning you around, your hands splayed out in front of you on the top of the vanity. His hand connected to your ass cheek, letting out a low chuckle as you gasped. He moved your hair off of your back, his cold fingers attacking the strings of your corset. 

“Stupid- fucking- ribbon-“ he said through gritted teeth, you caught the slightly crazed look in his eye through the reflection. Your body felt on fire, three months without him made every touch that more exhilarating. As soon as the corset was loose enough he was ripping it off of your body, along with your panties. You were entirely bare in front of your fully dressed husband. He stepped back, loosening his tie as he watched you squirm in the mirror. 

“Not so confident now, dearest.” He smirked, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. You breathed hard, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your nipples hardened against the cold air in the dressing room. You heard the familiar metal on metal as he took off his belt before unzipping his pants. He walked up behind you, nosing his dick against your folds. You clenched around nothing, pushing back against him. His hand came up to the back of your skull, wrapping his fist through your hair. He stared at you through his darkened gaze, you were breathless, your lips parting slightly.

“Please,” you whined, batting your eyelashes. He forcibly thrusted all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You let out a pornagraphic moan before you covered your mouth with your hand. He grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your mouth and holding it behind your back.

“Why don’t you let everyone here know who you belong to?” He huffed in your ear, thrusting erratically into you. You gripped the desk, the only thing holding you up as Five plowed into you. “Let them know that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” You clenched around him as his words seemed to straight directly to your core. He let out a groan, loosening his grip on your hair. “Fuck you like this don’t you?” You nodded enthusiastically, your eyes rolling back into your head as his cock prodded against your g-spot.

“Yes, yes Five!” You babbled tears pricking your eyes, as he bent you over the desk. His hands flew to your hips, pulling them against his own thrusts. You could only lay there as your orgasm came crashing down. You were thankful you were on top of the vanity because there was no way your trembling legs would have been able to hold you up. 

Five’s eyebrows knit together as he arched his neck back, his hips stuttering as his orgasm quickly followed yours. Cumming with a loud shout he collapsed on top of you, your sweat causing his thin shirt to stick to your skin. He pulsed inside of you as he gingerly tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He pulled away, peeling himself off of you. He kissed your shoulder as his softened cock slipped out of you. Your breathing was slowly coming back to normal as he tried to return your room to the state it was before he had destroyed it and you. He picked up your robe draping it over your shoulders. You sat up, feeling his cum start to drip down your thighs.

“What took you so long?” You asked, tying your robe close around your naked body.

“I just got here.” He sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” He turned to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I’ll always wait for you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you against his chest, resting his cheek against yours.

“At least someone will, Luther and Diego weren’t too happy about me dumping them in the past.” Five sighed. Diego and Luther were here, too?

“Where are they?” You asked, turning to Five with wide eyes. Five looked at you inquisitively, a small smile pulling on the corner of his mouth.

“Luther works for Jack Ruby, y/n. I found him in this club before I knew you worked here.” Your stomach dropped. Luther worked for Jack Ruby? That means he must have seen your numbers.

“Oh god.” You said mortified, hanging your head against Five’s chest. He chuckled, shaking his head as he lightly rubbed your back.

“Believe me, he was just as mortified as you are.” He said, “Although I must say I thoroughly enjoyed your routine.” He lowered his voice, his hands trailing down your body to rest on your butt.

“I think I could give you a private showing.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his tie. You pulled him forward by his tie, smashing your lips against his. His hands gripped your hips, the velvety fabric smooth against his palms. 

“God I’d love that,” He let out a sigh, “but maybe we should wait until after we save the world.” 

Again? It was happening again?

“Vanya?” You asked, pulling away.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged, “All I know is on November 25th the world ends, again.” 

“Guess it’s time for a family reunion.”

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 49. #STARBUCKS_FIRST_WIN

IN A MATTER OF HOURS, YOUR COWORKER PIZZA PARTY HAD TURNED INTO A FULL-ON GATHERING. 

Not only had Heeseung and his group joined you, but the employees from Peet’s had dropped by, too. Soon, Chan and Renjun’s apartment was packed with everyone sitting in a circle and scarfing down the boxes of pizza. You thought it would just be Chaewon and Aeri coming over, but you knew things were getting serious once Jungkook, who Chaewon told you was notorious for never doing anything that required energy, showed face.

Obviously, no one expected the number of heads to double, so the pizza ran out soon after Heeseung arrived. Sunghoon took the liberty of exercising his Papa John’s employee privilege to pick up more pizza. It was even better than the pizza you all previously bought, and it was plenty for everyone to enjoy.

“Is this, like, a Starbucks-finally-burned-down party?” Wonbin asked before Aeri sharply jabbed him in the side. “Sorry, I meant an oh-no-Starbucks-burned-down party.”

“That wasn’t any better, Wonbin,” Aeri deadpanned. 

“We got our customer connection score report today,” Chan answered, finishing chewing the last of his pizza before continuing, “and we got the highest score in the district. We’ve never gotten a score over thirty before, and today our score was in the eighties.”

“Maybe they felt bad for you,” Jungkook suggested.

“Shut up.”

Heeseung turned to you, wide-eyed and breaking into a grin. “You guys got best in the district?”

“Yeah—number one! I was gonna text you about it.” Although you two were sitting next to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, you still slid your hand into his. “We were almost tied with Starbucks in second place, so your survey really helped us.”

He squeezed your hand. “Totally worth the mermaid cosplay.”

Renjun raised his voice to say, “Riki, you should give us a speech, since you've been losing your mind over our customer connection score.” 

Minjeong, who was sitting between Jake and Aeri, let out a snicker. “Yeah, you’re the one who almost failed trigonometry over Starbucks.”

“I didn’t fail, for your information! I got a passing score,” Riki said with a huff.

Sunoo leaned back on his hands. “Yeah, a D.”

“And D’s get degrees, Sunoo,” Riki fired back before standing up. He raised up his glass of water, clearing his throat. “I was but a mere child when I first joined Starbucks. I didn’t know much about the world around me or the tribulations I’d face in my journey to becoming the best Starbucks in this district. However, today, I’ve become a man.”

(Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck. “This kid makes me feel like I smoked a pack whenever he opens his mouth.”)

Riki continued, “I wanna thank Chan for always looking after me and being, like, my second father, even when I pissed him off every single shift, or when I used his credit card to buy LED lights, or when I made a weed frappuccino past closing hours, or when I forged his signature to get out of class, or—”

“You forged what?” Chan interjected, distraught.

“Anyway, moving on.” Riki waved off the store manager’s concerns and said, “I also wanna thank Jay for always being on my side, even when the odds were against me. And Renjun, I wanna thank you for always giving me credit when it’s due. Sunoo, you’re the best shift lead I could’ve asked for, even though I’d probably throw you under the bus for your job. Minjeong, I think you’re insane, but I appreciate that you strike fear in our hearts when necessary.” 

At that, Minjeong gave Riki a high-five, which was a little too forceful and left the kid’s hand stinging. 

Riki’s eyes then met yours and he softened his gaze. “Y/N, we all had our doubts about you when you joined, but you’re totally part of the Starbucks family now. I just really wanna thank you especially for letting me cover your shift so that I could get a bonus.”

Your smile dropped. “Man, fuck you.”

“I’m just here for the pizza,” Anton admitted, “but that was sweet… I think.”

Jay seemed to be wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. You were surprised that his eyes actually seemed to be glistening.

"That was a beautiful speech, Riki," he praised the high schooler.

“Thank you, Jay. I’ll miss you guys when I go to Harvard,” Riki finished.

“Your ass is not going to Harvard,” Jake said flatly.

The rest of the night was spent eating, talking, and watching the Harry Potter movies together. While some of the boys went outside for a smoke sesh, you and the girls discussed plans to get an apartment together for the next year. Since you lived alone, you figured it was about time you experienced living with your friends. Chaewon shared a Pinterest board with everyone to start pinning interior decoration inspiration. You and Minjeong were completely useless in that area of expertise, so you offered to help with picking out more practical things, such as kitchen and bathroom essentials.

You already knew that Heeseung was going to continue living with Sunghoon for the next year, but you were content with that. You weren’t sure you were exactly ready to move in with your boyfriend or anything, so you thought it was best that you two lived separately for the next year. The student apartments were close, anyway. 

When your boyfriend returned, his eyes slightly glossed over, you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. He leaned down so that his ears were by your lips. 

“Ask them if they wanna watch the Mario movie,” you whispered.

He shot you a wary look, whispering back, “No! They’re gonna make fun of me. You ask them.”

“No, they’re gonna make fun of me, too.”

“Well”—his lips curled up in a smile—“guess we’ll just have to watch it on our own, then.”

After a while, everyone started to disperse, except for Jungkook, who decided to crash on the couch. It was nearly midnight, anyway, and Riki’s mother had called him about twenty times to get home soon. He was strangely at ease while everyone else was anxious for him.

Chaewon and Aeri left first, claiming that they had to go to bed early because they both had 8 a.m. classes. Wonbin and Sunghoon were discussing going to a party that one of their friends was hosting, and Jungwon and Sunoo immediately shot down the idea when they were asked to tag along

Sunghoon held his phone up to show everyone a Snapchat story of a guy in a Barney costume double-fisting two beers. “Bro, Vernon’s at the party.”

“We’re going home,” Jungwon insisted. 

“C’mon, it’s just for a few hours. We’ll bring you guys back home safe—or, like, we’ll try to. No guarantees. If your safety's compromised, blame Jake or something.”

“Hell no,” Sunoo deadpanned. “I have a paper to finish.”

“Also,” Jungwon added on, pointing an accusing finger at Sunghoon, “I don’t trust you.”

“The fuck? I’m trustworthy.” He turned to you and asked, “Y/N, you think I’m trustworthy, right?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “In fact, I was gonna tell Jungwon and Sunoo to save themselves.”

“Yeah, I can’t get spiked today, dude,” Jungwon said. “I have a fluids test tomorrow.”

After saying your goodbyes to Sunoo and Jungwon, who took a while to figure out where they parked their car, you turned your attention back to Sunghoon and Wonbin. Beomgyu walked up to your group after being occupied with talking to Jisung and Anton for a while. 

“Let’s just go for an hour or something,” Wonbin told Sunghoon. “Are Jake and Beomgyu coming?”

“I’ll join,” Beomgyu said. “I think Jake’s being dragged somewhere by Minjeong, though. Heeseung, are you coming?”

Heeseung started, “No, I—”

“Oh!” Sunghoon bursted out, grabbing his two friends by the shoulders and tugging them away. He turned on his heel quickly, muttering something along the lines of, “Let’s just leave them alone.”

You raised a brow. “What’s his deal?”

You were just able to catch Heeseung’s expression under the dim lamplight, noting how he shied away at your question and averted his gaze. You swore the tips of his ears went scarlet, although you weren’t able to properly discern whether your mind was playing tricks on you or not. 

“Uh, he’s probably just zooted,” your boyfriend said offhandedly. He shot you a glance once you two started walking in the direction of his apartment. “Are you cold?” Before you could answer him, though, Heeseung was already taking off his sweater to hand it to you.

You giggled. “Thanks.” After a few moments, you bit your lip and told him, “Hey, so, about the survey, I thought you should know—”

“—that Minjeong sent me the link?” he finished for you, a grin growing on his face. You stared at him, nonplussed. “Don’t worry, I already knew. When I showed Jake the text, he recognized her number immediately. I figured you guys were just being nice.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Why’re you apologizing? That was, like, the nicest thing they’ve done for me.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You really turned my life around there. I would’ve probably just been permanently banned from Starbucks by now if it weren’t for you.”

Your cheeks went hot. It was true that you and Heeseung growing closer definitely changed his relationship with the employees, but you could say the same for him, too. You were admittedly reserved before you met Heeseung, and dating him opened your world up to so many new people. You wouldn’t have had all these new friends if it weren’t for him.

“You’ve done so much for me, too,” you told him. “I’ve never been able to just spontaneously hang out with so many friends before. I never even approached people before, and now I’m gonna room with Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri.”

He smiled down at you. “They like you ‘cause you’re fun to be around. Give yourself some more credit.” When you two reached the door of his apartment, Heeseung stopped in his tracks instead of opening the door. You noticed the flush of pink dusting his cheeks when he mumbled, “By the way, I sort of got you a surprise for your Starbucks thing.”

“Really?” You beamed up at him. “Hee, it’s really not that big of a deal for you. You didn’t have to get me something over that.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he insisted. “If it’s something big for you, then it’s big for me, okay? So, close your eyes.”

“Okay.” You placed your hands over your eyes, and your chest felt hot when Heeseung moved his arm to place his hand over your hands from behind, too. Your back was against his chest, and you could almost make out how fast his heart was beating. After you heard the sound of the door being unlocked, Heeseung took small steps forward to get you to walk inside. “Ow. You stepped on my heel.”

“My bad. Step on my feet.”

You did as he said and proceeded to laugh as Heeseung awkwardly walked you further into his apartment after shutting the door behind him. You leaned back against his chest and stumbled a little once he had you step off of his feet. 

“Okay, stay right there,” he instructed, “and keep your eyes closed!”

You swayed back and forth as you waited for him to return. He didn’t take very long, but you were brimming with anticipation. You stilled once you realized he was right in front of you again. You were just about to remove your hands when Heeseung stopped you again.

“Don’t!” he warned, and then asked, “Remember when I stole that baby goat for you?”

Your smile was quickly replaced with a disapproving frown. “Lee Heeseung, do not tell me you still have the baby goat.”

“No!” he exclaimed. “I miss him every day, though. But… I remembered you said something about how it would be nice if we raised a pet together one day, and I know we’re not living together yet or anything, but I thought it’d be nice to share… something…” He trailed off, clearly flustered. “Er, so—yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You removed your hands and a gasp fell from your lips almost immediately.

Nestled in Heeseung’s palms was the cutest baby kitten you had ever seen. You cooed as you reached over to stroke its plush, white fur. The mewl that came from the kitten nearly had you falling to your knees from how adorable it was.

“He’s a Ragdoll,” he told you. “I thought we could parent him together.”

Heeseung let you hold the kitten in your hands, and you held him close to your chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I could seriously kiss you right now,” you breathed out. 

“Don’t kiss me yet.” He grinned. “I have something else for you.”

You could’ve died of happiness on the spot. Your boyfriend really was completely unfair. How could he spoil you this much and expect you not to combust?

Heeseung dug into his pockets for a moment before pulling out a silver key. You were confused as he took the kitten back from you and placed the key in your hands. After you weighed it in your palm and inspected it for a moment, the dots started connecting in your head. You could almost feel the tears threatening to well up in your eyes.

“That’s our spare key to the apartment. It’s all yours,” he said. “I talked to Sunghoon about it, obviously, and he was totally chill with you having a key to our place. You can come by whenever you want, and you don’t need to wait for me to get out of class if you wanna come over and see our cat.”

“Heeseung,” you murmured, “I don’t know what to say.”

He seemed to visibly panic. “It’s totally cool if you don’t want it. I wasn’t sure if I was moving too fast with that or not, uh… Sunghoon and I just keep it under the doormat if we accidentally get locked out, so it’s really not—”

“I love you,” you breathed out.

His eyes grew wide. 

He quickly became a stuttering mess, scrambling to fit words together into a sentence, but nothing was coming out coherently. You almost wanted to laugh because his distress was so cute, but you decided to show him how you felt instead.

The words died on his lips as soon as you wrapped your arms around Heeseung’s neck and kissed his disquiet away. And this time, it felt like you were able to pour your entire heart into that one kiss because there was something that stirred deep within your heart as your lips moved against Heeseung’s soft ones. 

You never thought one person could move your heart like this, never thought someone could make you feel like you were made of magic, but Heeseung managed to wriggle his way into your heart so effortlessly. One of his hands moved to hold the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slowly—at your own pace. 

When you two finally pulled away after what felt like forever, Heeseung didn’t pull away from you. His nose nudged yours, then grazed your cheek, peppering several more chaste kisses to your lips before you were a giggling and blushing mess. 

Your boyfriend grinned. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

It was then when your kitten mewled from where it was resting on Heeseung’s free hand, seemingly wanting attention. You stared at it for a moment before realization dawned across your face.

“Yoshi!” you exclaimed. “We should name him Yoshi.”

He gasped. “I wanted to name him something Mario-themed! But I thought Mario or Luigi sounded stupid.” He snorted and held the Ragdoll properly again, using his knuckle to gently stroke his head. “Yoshi sounds perfect.”

You giggled. “Yoshi should watch the Mario movie with us. It’s only tradition.”

“I’ll get the popcorn ready.” 

He saluted and handed you the remote so that you could pull up the movie. You took the kitten in your hands and curled up on the couch, placing Yoshi on your lap. When your boyfriend returned, he wrapped an arm around you and started the movie, petting the kitten every now and then. 

And after your umpteenth rewatch, you were definitely going to brag about your new kitten to all your friends; you were going to start looking into applying for apartments for you, Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri to move into; and, most importantly, you were going to tell Heeseung you loved him over and over again until there were no doubts in his mind about your feelings for him. 

It was around three in the morning when Park Sunghoon stumbled to the front door of his apartment. He, Wonbin, and Beomgyu somehow ended up getting crossed to the point of nearly blacking out at the party. Thankfully, though, after sitting on the curb of a sidewalk for thirty minutes and having Beomgyu forcing Gatorade down his throat, Sunghoon seemed to sober up enough to walk back home.

Beomgyu insisted on walking him back after they dropped off Wonbin (who hardly remembered his own name at the moment), but Sunghoon was determined to brave the journey back home. 

He patted down his pockets and realized he only had his phone and wallet. No keys. He must’ve left them at home since he was out with Heeseung earlier in the night. 

But no worries. Sunghoon and Heeseung always kept a spare key under the doormat in case of emergencies like these. Sure, he and his housemate often got themselves into crazy situations from time to time, but the smartest decision they had ever made was keeping their extra key ready. 

However, when Sunghoon flipped the corner of the doormat up, there was nothing there. He paused and lifted up the doormat completely, but absolutely nothing was underneath. 

Fuck, he remembered, that motherfucker gave Y/N the stupid spare key.

He honestly couldn’t blame Heeseung because he agreed to letting Y/N have the key, but now he couldn’t get in the house. Couldn’t Heeseung give her the key at a normal hour, like tomorrow afternoon? This situation was fucked.

Sunghoon groaned and dialed Beomgyu’s number. After a few rings, his friend picked up.

He asked, “Weed Guy Beomgyu, can I crash at your place?”

“Use the doormat key,” was his friend’s curt response. 

“Heeseung gave it to Y/N.”

A couple seconds of silence rolled by before Beomgyu answered, “Fine. I’ll pick you up in a few.”

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SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ thank you for supporting a stoner's guide to starbucks all this time !! :') it has been a JOURNEY and i feel so so bittersweet about it ending but i very much appreciate all the love and support you guys have shown this smau <3 i am also very much content with this ending and i hope you guys enjoy it as well 🥰 the next chapter will be the epilogue and then i'll post some uncuts !! #LIGHTONEUPFORHEESEUNG

[thisismeracing]

Falling (in love) | LH44 (Patreon Exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: stepdad!lewis x kindergarten teacher!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions food and sickness (fever); single!mom reader; family issues; not been proofread yet; 3k words. ― Summary: When your kid found a new friend in his new school, you did not expect that would mean you would find yourself friends too. And sure enough, you weren't expecting to fall for his friend's uncle.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

preview

A lot of things were unexpected that day.

First, the fact that Lewis was late to pick up his niece, but when he got there she wasn’t throwing a tantrum, quite the opposite. When she saw him she saw him, she came running through the school’s entrance with the biggest smile on her face when just earlier that week she made a fuss to go to class every morning – before and after getting there. 

The second was the smallest boy who was right behind her. His backpack swung from side to side, while Wendy ran up front turning every few seconds to giggle at him.

And just when Lewis thought those were the only two unexcepted things, you walked out of the door carrying a few books in your hands and a big bag on your shoulder, calling for Wendy and the smallest boy. 

“Uncle Lew!!!” His niece screamed before barreling into his legs and hugging him. He chuckled, bending down to kiss her mop of curls. “Have you met Leo?” 

“I don’t think so,” he shook his head just as the boy finally reached them. 

The kid’s version of a black Jordan and the styled curly hair made Lewis smile, that boy appeared to be around five but was already starring a fashion sense that a few older people hadn’t.

“Leo, you’ll give me a heart attack one of these days. You can’t go out running like this, honey,” your voice carried a serious but sweet tone simultaneously. 

Lewis’ eyes found you standing a few feet away, curly hair clipped away from your face by a few strands, a pencil skirt, and a cream blouse. The folder and books in your arms gave him a hint of what you were doing there, and his silent guess turned out to be true when Wendy turned with a toothless grin and introduced you: “This is Miss Yn, our new teacher!” She took a step to stand beside you looking up with a beaming face that reflected yours. “And this is Leonard, her son, my new classmate. They’re new here, can we introduce the city to them like we did with Jackie and Uncle Toto? Also, can we have playdates later? Can we go to the park? Can we–”

****

“Mamma, I don’t wanna eat,” Leo held his hands behind his back giving you his best puppy eyes and you chuckled. 

“How about you try a few bites and then go play with Dee, huh?” 

“Yeah, champ, you gotta make your body strong so you can run as fast as you can,”  Lewis tried, already cutting a sandwich in half for Wendy. “Have you ever tried vegan sandwiches?” He asked and Leo shook his head.

“I don’t like lettuce, mamma does though,” he shared, pointing his small finger at you.

“What do you mean you don’t like lettuce? Lettuce is exactly what makes us run even faster, it gives us tons of energy!” 

“It does?” the curly-haired boy asked, hands now on the side of his body and curious eyes watching the food in Lewis’ hands. 

“Yeah, I eat it all the time so I can drive my car in endless circles.”

You smiled watching the interaction. 

“How about you have a bite? You don’t have to eat it all, just a bite. But I bet you will want to finish it. This one has so many things that make us bigger and stronger.”

“Strong like you?” his big brown eyes now looking at Lewis’ biceps, and you chuckled at your kid's face when the driver curled his arms and flexed his muscles. 

“Yeah, strong just like me!” 

****

“They truly made a bond in a short time, huh?” You commented.

“Guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot more often,” Lewis bumped your shoulder with his and you smiled. You wouldn’t lie that the prospect of interacting with him more than you did the last week wasn’t a bad thing at all.

“I’m not opposed to that.” 

“Neither am I.” 

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this lil sneak peek! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah* and PLEASE, LET’S INDULGE IN THIS UNIVERSEEEE BECAUSE I'M ALMOST SURE THIS WILL BECOME A SERIES OF SOME SORT. I sorted a few ideas for "chapters" yet, but I won't be following the chapters format, but rather taking asks requests about them and publishing the blurbs and pieces <3

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

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[lundenloves]

You’re proficient in angst and I love angst, so maybe:

Ghost and his wife working through a miscarriage after or before their first child is born?

ALWAYS READ THE WARNINGS!

you anon, you are a brave one. *finger wag* knowing fine fucking well i’d pick this one out above others, and no, it wasn’t the compliment that did it. i’m sorry for the therapy bills. what’s that? i said i’d pay? i said that? me? never.

disclaimer before i get my head bitten off: this is a reader insert, though without the use of ‘you’ and rather mentioned as his wife. i didn’t want to put people directly into it. a third narrative? is that wrong? idfk.

masterlist | taglist | request info | therapy

↳ warnings: loss of baby, angst | 1k

Simon knew. He knew before the five words had been spoken, before the doctor had taken a breath and before she had made eye contact with his wife who hadn’t quite caught on. He didn’t mean to distance himself, but that he did, pushing even further back from the bed and scratching at the back of his neck. Head hung low and his nose scrunching briefly when she had reached for his arm. An arm he pulled away. Right as the words were delivered like a punch to the gut.

“I can’t find a pulse.” 

He looked to the floor, completely denying his wife of her reaction and his leg had begun bouncing erratically. Untouched by her warmth when she had gripped his knee, silently begging for his eyes that remained on the door. “What.” She shook her head, blinking once, hard, as if she had heard incorrectly. 

But she hadn’t.

Simon teethed at the skin around his nails, dropping an elbow to his knee and rubbing his neck. The doctor quietly spoke her apologies and thousands of thoughts rushed his mind at once, guilty relief yet also swirling darkness. “There’s nothing you can do?” She cleared her throat, keen in maintaining composure that Simon knew was a front. Her hand began to fidget with the seams of his jeans, the threads picked out over years from his own anxieties.

The doctor repeated her apologies, handing over a few documents on next steps. Coloured cards at best, she spoke through the overwhelming information with a quietness to her voice, an accompanied hand placed on her patients’ shoulder. One with the intent of comfort though it felt bitter and Simon stood from the chair, picking up her bag and watching as she gathered her jacket after handing him the car keys. 

He held every door open for her, walking a few strides behind as she sped walk to the car that was on the far end of the car park. She would’ve ran if she could, knees weak upon reaching the drive that felt like another obstacle. Ten minutes of silence. 

“Is that it?” She had mumbled once the door was shut behind her, bottom lip sucked inward and hands dropping to her thighs. “You’re just—“ She paused, her gaze absent in forward staring. “You’re not going to say anything?” Her voice was toneless.

Simon adjusted the rearview mirror purely to occupy himself. His elbow rests on the window edge, fingers rubbing at his upper lip. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” It came off as a mumble.

She nodded vacantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a self pacifying hug. The news had struck her energy, killing off any ounce she had left to decipher Simon’s feelings, any words from here would surely manifest into an argument of sorts. 

And her tears were slow, a singular one turned to two, to three and four — each one falling longer than the other and Simon’s eyes fixed onto the dash. His answer was avoidance, turning the car on and fidgeting with radio dials to simultaneously ignore her tears and distract himself. 

Otherwise, the silence was loud. 

Her nostrils flared, sleeves gently rubbing at her cheeks and pressing her head back against the seat. Shoes discarded and knees pulled up to her chest, body facing away from her husband and toward the window where rain had begun its predictable downpour. The whine that left her mouth wasn’t anything other than devastating, one that ironically cried for help upon holding heavier tears back, though it was ineffective.

Her chest dipped in and out of exasperated breaths, short and quick in their successions with fingers balled into a fist that hit at her knees for any alleviation. “She’s gone, she’s fuck—“

Simon then felt the weight on his chest. The weight of his lacking. He bit down on his bottom lip and put the car into gear, his hand sinking from his hair and across his cheek, down the back of his neck as he pulled out of the car park. 

The rest of the car ride was silent. The only noises filling the space being her occasional deep breaths and whines, the indicator and Simon’s nervous habit of clearing his throat. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his spine was hiked downward and his shoulders collapsed in on themselves. “Are we just not going to talk about it?” 

Her words landed right as he had shut the door behind him, back pressed against it to hear the click of the lock. She dropped her arms to her sides, taking a step backward and into the main space of their shared flat. “Because I can’t deal with your silence. Not now.” 

He nodded slowly, his back remaining against the door as if he couldn’t move. His fight or flight triggered by her forcing of the topic, “I don’t know what to say.” It was honest. The crack in his voice said that much, his eyes fixed to hers as if to scope her as a threat or not. 

And christ, she looked anything but a threat. Her blotchy face and tear stained cheeks made her look so much smaller than she was, reduced to a mourning mess that Simon wasn’t equipped to put back together. “Anything.” She shook her head, voice stripped to a whisper for him to tilt his head at, inner brows risen in defeat as words point blank refused to leave him. 

“I can’t.” He stuttered on his emotion, holding his fist in the opposite hand before dropping it. 

Being unable to cry was so much more upsetting than the act of crying itself, a point that Simon existed to prove. His silence around sensitive matters, the way he stared with dead eyes and his minimal expressions that seemed to be so much more devastating than those who could properly communicate their feelings. 

“Anything Simon.” 

Words were still stuck in his throat and only allowed for a mere shrug with an extended palm to take her to his chest. “C’mere.” Was all he could say, one hand on her back with the other pushing hair from her face as she slowly but surely collapsed to a blubbering mess in his arms. “I’m sorry.” 

no, i’m sorry.

the anon did, it not me. it’s unedited but i’m too scunnered to look over this again so take it with a grain of salt. please let this flop. my followers are unwell enough.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine

i’m going to my mind palace.

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Death

Part One.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!

“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.

How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.

Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.

Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.

Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.

We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.

The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.

So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”

My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.

As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.

It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.

“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.

Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.

We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.

We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.

I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”

Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.

Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.

His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.

“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.

I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.

“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”

He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.

“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”

Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.

It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.

Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?

“Walk with me.”

Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.

“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.

“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.

“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”

He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.

“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.

“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”

The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.

“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”

For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.

“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.

“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.

“Can anybody get over their death?”

“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.

Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.

“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“

“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”

“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”

I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.

“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”

“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.

“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”

Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.

The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.

“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”

Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.

My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.

While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[harrysmimi]

Still Together, Still Going Strong

Synopsis: One where Harry and YN are getting a divorce but they can't seem stay away from one another

More of my work

YN has never been this mad and upset on Harry.

Why wouldn't she be? When he's ready to throw away a decade they spent together under the bus like that.

It was just five months ago Harry had said he wanted a divorce. Why, you may ask?

Is because he has been feeling he's lost himself. No doubt, that is a valid reason and she respects it. She has been there for him through all his lows she was willing to do so now too. She knows he needs a break, it is not easy to be a parent and have a job which asks so much of your time and energy.

He had his own reasons which by all means are very valid, he's never cheated, he's not cheating now. Nothing made sense to YN.

Every Monday evening when he'd drop off the twins at hers and they're off to bed, he's back to being her Harry. The same soft and living guy she fell in love at eighteen, the same guy who kissed her over and over again thanking her for giving the two most beautiful boys to love and care for.

YN had moved to the flat her parents bought her a year prior she moved in with Harry at his. It wasn't as big as the house which were their home, but it was big enough for her and the little toddlers and the cat Harry and her adopted just when they moved in together. They had been very good at co-parenting considering the twins are just two years old now. She had them for the whole weeks because the boys are just so used to her being around, though Harry came in to see them in between whenever he could.

Living apart felt like a norm, especially to YN as she's so used to her husband (now soon to-be-ex-husband) being on tour so much. She just didn't had her soft space to fall back to now.

He says it isn't her, or the kids. But he can't run away from the kids, unless he verbally says he doesn't want the responsibility of a father anymore— it wasn't him conveying the reasons to her but his legal representatives. He doesn't want to be away from the twins, he's been very firm about it. So it must be her.

YN still can't put a finger on what she has done to probably piss him off so much he wants a divorce now. Though she haven't got the time to think about it either with looking after the twins and working. She had a desk job and her dad's business to look after now thay he's retired, she doesn't get even the weekends to herself.

To make it all worse for her, he still says his I love yous to her, he still kisses like the first time he did, he still calls her by the little weird pet names. Hell, they even made love just last Monday and days he'd visit the twins mid week. This wasn't fair for her. And she didn't know how to process it all.

"Harper." YN ran after the little boy who was running away from eating his dinner whilst his twin was being nice, shirtless in just his little pink shorts. "Come back here."

"No!" Harper squealed but he fell down on his bum laughing.

"Gotcha!" YN announced scooping him up.

"Bum-bum!" He pointed out saying he fell down on his bum.

"Yeah, you did fell on your bum-bum." YN laughed giving him a kiss, she placed him on his highchair next to his brother. "Harlow, do you like it?" The other blond boy was already chomping away at little pieces of chicken and picking carrots from rice in front of him in the bowl.

"Yes!" He announced.

"You're giving your Mummy a hard time, aren't you?" Harry's spoke serving Harper his dinner, he dipped his head down to press a kiss on his boy's head.

"It's okay he's still little." YN spoke walking in kitchen. She knows he's just joking but she didn't like it for what she didn't know, nor she wanted to know. She is just mad. He'd just decided to stay over for dinner like he lives there with them, like they're not getting a divorce in two weeks. Like they're not having their assets divided equally in between. Like the media didn't already knew he's separating from his partner of ten years. It made her so furious just because she haven't gotten the time to sit by herself and process everything. Everything was happening so fast.

"Baby what's wrong?"

"I think you should leave now Harry," YN suggested, as she furious started cleaning around the kitchen, the mess he made in attempt of helping hera. She never mind him making a mess in the kitchen, until now. "I've got work tomorrow."

"I can help put the boys to bed," he offered.

"I don't need it, I just need you to leave my house now." She deadpanned, stopping dead in her actions to glance at him once. Harry was taken back, he glanced at the boys who were busy exchanging their food and eating before he walked back in the kitchen.

YN felt his hands on her hips as he pulled her back from scrubbing the counter like it's got some deadly disease on it, she watched as blood rush back to her finger tips on the release of her death grip on the wash clothe. She didn't liked the way his hands felt on her body for the first time, it felt so wrong.

"Look at me," he requested. For a moment there YN found herself leaning into the warmth of the palm of his hand cradling her face.

"Don't, don't touch me," she reluctantly pulled herself away, "I don't like it no more." He would kiss her there, she'd give in and they'd be huddling their way to the bathroom leaving the twins to eat their dinner.

And she proceeded to clean around. Cleaned up the twins and put them in their PJs and finally off to bed they went. Harry still lingered around, he cleaned up the highchairs and put them away, until YN came back out.

She sighed in defeat seeing him still sitting at the dining table, like he did whenever he managed to piss her off waiting for her to cool off before he could go talk to her. He did more than just piss her off now. She walked back to her bedroom and sbut the door behind her getting ready for bed. She pulled out her laptop to email her boss about wanting to take her yearly paid vacation, her leave was going to be accepted as she's that annoying employee who has to be forced to take days off. She even proceeded to call her parents to ask of she could go over and stay with them for a couple of weeks with the boys. Luckily for her, they lived just four hour drive away from her in Kingston. They didn't knew Harry and YN were getting a divorce until it became a public affair, of course they said she could go live with them for as long as she wish for.

Was she overreacting on this? Hasn't she been so understanding about the reasons Harry gave her for their separation? But was it inevitable not to be heartbroken? She had never grieved for anything or anyone before, is it really this overwhelming? This overwhelming that she has to cry?

She took in a deep breath and wiped off the tears which had managed to trickle down her eyes when she heard the door crack open. The boys liked to sleep in her bed, close to their Mummy. Something Harry isn't a fan of but she cherishes a lot. All it would take for him to give in was three pairs of doe eyes begging him and he'd be scooping up the little humans onto their bed and tucking the under the sheets. The boys are well aware that it is easy to butter their Mummy than it to their Papa, they only request to sleep in with her when with her. Smart little toddlers!

It was Harry, he still hasn't left yet. He just closed the door behind him carefully as the twins are light sleepers like their Mummy, he proceeded to take a seat in front of him on her bed. No words were shared as he just looked at her trying to figure where he should begin. He didn't know how to approach this. She is not going to say a word, he knows. They're both stubborn when it comes to confrontation.

"YN," Harry cooed trying to reach for her hand.

"You're a fucking hypocrite!" She snapped, swatting his hand away with a jerk. "You say one thing and do the complete opposite of it. Just stick to one thing! You want a divorce then set up some boundaries for fucks sake. What part of divorce do you not understand?"

"I'm trying to be there for the boys, what are you talking about?"

"I am not saying you are. I want you to stop being around me, okay? I want you to stop making it harder for me than it already is." She made it clear, "I don't want this. I don't want you touching me, I don't want you kissing me, sleeping with me, I don't want you to say you love me."

"But I do love you," he rushed, "doesn't mean we're getting a divorce that I don't love you anymore. I can never stop loving you, I don't think I can even do that. I gave you my reasons. We're separating mutually, aren't we?"

Answer to his question was, no. It's not mutual. She's agreeing just for his sake. She doesn't want a divorce, she wants to work through it.

He was coming home late after being out with his friends, drunk and high his ass off after long studio sessions now that he's been writing his new album, he never bothered anyone and went straight to bed. Whilst YN didn't liked that, she still let it slide for a month and a half. It started getting on her nerve when he'd be grumpy all day with a major hang over, she snapped when he yelled at the boys who were just wanting to play with him. It was the very next day he told her he wants a divorce and left for the studio.

"Be honest with me, do you not want it?" He asked when she said nothing. "YN?"

"No!" She exclaimed, "I don't want this. Why would I want to break a relationship that we spent a decade to make perfect? It's just not me and you anymore, we have two little ones now."

YN's trying hard not to break down in front him. Whatever it is he does not need to see her cry, and it usually made her feel weak. It usually is easy for her to cry bit deal with everything which comes her way calmly without a breakdown. She felt the sinking feeling in her stomach, physically.

"I am going to go stay with my parents for a couple of weeks." She shared, "you can come over to see the kids and I think you should leave now." She walked over to the door to open it for him. He's got no other option than to leave. It's better he did that and get his shit together for him to talk about this.

......................................................................

"YN, come help me." Her dad said, he carried the gardening tools. Twins were out with their grandma and Aunty for grocery shopping. She was lied on the sofa staring at the ceiling as some episode of Friends played in the background.

It's been a week and half and YN's fallen sick as she expected. It was meant to happen with how overworked she has been, she's had a fever and has been throwing up every morning. She has been sick and more lost especially today since morning.

Her parents haven't bought up the topic of her divorce yet, they can still see how it has been affecting. God, how they didn't liked him for their daughter at first. They had no idea how much she loved him, that for the first time she rebelled against them. It wasn't just her teen phase, they came to realise soon enough.

"Do you want me to take you to doctor again?" Her asked.

"No, I'm fine now." She shrugged and started with cleaning out dried out leaves from her dad's garden.

"How do you like these? Harper picked this." He showed her the new rose plant he'd got just yesterday when he took the boys out so she can rest.

"Good." She nodded. "I, I want to go sleep."

"Okay, did you take you medicines?" Her dad enquired.

"No, I, I'll take it." She assured him before she walked inside, just as she was about to go to her room she saw the mess that was her sister's room. Her kids were sleeping in her sister's room because she was sick. Toys everywhere. Not that her sister was rhe tidiest person she knew, she still picked up after her toddlers.

"Mumma!" Harlow came running to her followed by Harper, both of them tackled her with hugs. "Nani gave chocolate!" He showed a tiny packet of Reeses cups, his brother got one too.

"Yay!" She celebrated, "did you say thank you to Nani?"

"Yes!" Harper nodded, "open, pwease?"

They'd already had their lunch so YN opened the chocolate wrappers for both of them, had them sit down with their toys. There were so much to play with at their Grandparents' place, but the boys hardly fought over the same toy. When her sister got back to her room, YN went back to hers to get in a nap.

"YN?" She heard her mum calling her from the living room. Sighing she got out of bed to check what her mother had to say. "Harry's here to see the kids."

"No, I'm just here to talk to you for now." Harry rushed, "would you please?" He gestured her to go out with him. She walked him to her room. "Baba told me you're sick."

Yeah, he called her father Baba.

"I'm sorry." He started, "never asked you if you wanted this."

"Thank you." She nodded, now sat on her bed.

"I was just being stupid." He admitted crouching in front of her, "but I never lied when I said I feel like I've lost myself. You know we never talked about boys until recently to anyone. It felt like I was living two different lives. It is very hard, I feel so guilty that I can't be there for you and our babies but I also love to tour and be on stage." He voice cracked as his eyes brimmed with tears, "it looked easy to do this. Guess I was being selfish with choosing what I want, I don't know how I feel about it yet. I just needed a break to get my shit together. Can't stay away from you, I realised, or I can't stay away from our boys. It's just that I haven't been able to give the three of you much of my time, but also don't wanna stop touring."

"All this while you've been nothing but so supportive of me, I am so sorry I didn't realise you'd support me through this too. You respected the reasons I gave you which I now call bullshit. You don't want this yet agreed to it. You've been through all the highs with me, guess I didn't wanted you to be through the lows. Just want you to be happy and not worry about anything. I am sorry lovie, I don't want it anymore. Still want to be with you." He grabbed her hands in her lap, "you think you can forgive me, please?"

He looked just like the boys with his doe eyes looking up at her (or you can say the twins are xerox copy of him), he was crying. Tip of his nose turned pink, same shade as his lips.

"You need to take a break, from everything." She spoke, "it's not stupid or bullshit to feel overwhelmed, okay? You don't have to make a choise between what you love, it's not how it works. You're an amazing father to the boys. It hurt me so much that you didn't wanted to be with me anymore, did I do something? Do you not feel attracted to me anymore? Have you fallen out of love with me? Is there som—"

"No, no, no, no!" He rushed cutting her off mid sentence, "It's not that, I don't know why I said I want a divorce. God I love you and only you. It's just you. Please, please, please don't ever think about it!" He brought her hands to his mouth pressing little sloppy kisses on her knuckles as he sobbed quietly, he didn't even imagine it would come out this way to her. God he never even looks at anyone else other than her. It was a stab in his heart that she thought he's in love with someone else. Hell, he's on his knees for her now! "Let's take it back. I don't want to get a divorce. Don't want you to leave, please!"

He broke down sobbing even more when she pulled him in a warm embrace, he just cried with his face buried in her chest like a baby. His arms wrapped around her like he's falling off a cliff.

Harry honestly didn't know why he did that, why he let things go this far with the divorce. God he couldn't imagine his life without her. He loves her too much. He thought maybe he could have one less thing to feel guilty about if they separate. But he was proved very just this morning when he went to her flat to see the kids and also her just to realise she's at her parents, four hours away, he straight away drove to her.

It scared him. Even though she was still close by yet he felt like she's out of reach. He's never felt that way before, cal him overdramatic for acting on this as fast he could and go back to her. Her dad was probably mad at him as he texted him about how sick she's been, turned out he was just telling him how YN is doing. He also missed his little boys.

"We're never going to complain about you not being there for her," she started speaking for the kids as well, "they love you Harry, so do I. We'd nothing but for you to be happy with us. Don't want you to feel guilty, you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to feel pressured to leave what you love to do. I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes to be with you, never once I thought you were a bad partner. I don't know where it all came from, but I love you so much. We're going to work this out, I'm not going anywhere, our boys are not going anywhere, okay? I promised you, didn't I? Through highs and lows."

"We are!" He said, firmly as he pulled away enough to look at her sniffling. "I love you so much!" He peppered her face with more sloppy wet kisses before pulling her in a bear hug. It was her turn to cry her heart out, feeling the assuring weight of his hand on the back of her head, his finger flexing in gentle strokes on her scalp. "Hey, it's okay, we'll be okay." She wrapped her arms around his middle tightly.

YN's been a mess since Monday and it's only Thursday, especially since her last doctors visit with her mum. She has been going through same symptoms she went through when she was pregnant two hears ago, sore breasts, nood swings, nausea, morning sickness. God she was put into such a bad mental space when the doctor suggested she takes a pregnancy test. There were chances she was pregnant, her and Harry were still having sex being careless about using the right protection, she hasn't got her period in a month. But YN's also been a hormonal mess since giving birth, breastfeeding and then stopping to breastfeed, that messed up with her periods too.

On one hand she wanted the test to turn out to be positive so she can just have her husband call off the divorce thinking about another child, the selfish and cruel side of her spoke. On other hand she didn't wanted it to be positive because she just can't bear another pregnancy after such a short time, physically. Especially since her first one has taken such a huge toll of her. The first time she was pregnant, she had twins.

She was glad the test came out negative. She started with her period the very next day, explaining her nausea and sore breasts. That also explains her breakdown in the moment.

"Hey sweetheart, it's alright." He assured her trying to calm her down, "no, no you're gonna get more sick." The last time she cried like this was when she failed one of the most important entrance exam for the course she was wanting to take up and made herself sick. He worried.

Harry noticed it's started to get dark outside, they've been locked in her bedroom for so long talking it all out. He heard the twins screaming and squealing outside, probably playing with YN's brother and sister. "Baby did you fell asleep on me?" He checked on his wife who hasn't moved in a long moment. She was letting letting endorphins settle in her.

"No," she pulled away enough to look at him, "I didn't."

Should she tell him about the test?

"I, I had to take a test on Monday." She started nervously glancing at him before he fixed her gaze on her hands in her lap, "it came out negative."

"You wanted it to be positive?"

"I don't know," she sighed, finally looking up at him he was sat back on his heels now, still close enough to her. She flet bad for even thinking of guilt tripping him into staying there. But did she also had the heart to tell she doesn't want to separate in the first place? When he told her he's been overwhelmed with responsibilities.

"You want to take a nap?" He asked, "we can go out to get dinner, just us, later?"

"I don't want to go out." She shook her head, "don't feel well."

"That's okay, I want you to take a nap now, hmm?" He proceeded to pull back the blanket on the bed and slip off her house slippers off her feet, urging her to lie down. So she did. "They're having fun outside, don't worry about them just get in some rest, sweetheart." He cut her off before she could even utter a sound, he tucked her in softly.

"Harry, I—"

"We'll talk more later, baby, I promise." He interrupted her again, but watched her face turn into more of an angry one, "just want you to rest, look at you, sunken eyes, runny nose. Okay, what is it?" He rested his head on her pillow as he scooted closer to the bed still sitting on the floor.

"I wanted it to be positive, the test at first." YN shared. She just can't keep things which are bothering her to herself.

"I don't think we should have another baby. Did you wanted one?"

"No, I don't think I can do it again. Not this soon. Be pregnant I mean. I thought, this is so very wrong, I thought if it were to turn out to be positive you'd change your mind about this. Be—because I didn't know how to tell you I don't want to get a divorce." She stuttered, as new set of tears pooled in her reddened eyes. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Why didn't you wanted to tell me you don't want that?" He cooed, his hand running soothing strokes on her back.

"Because..." She sighed as she trailed off, "because you said you were overwhelmed by everything. I didn't wanted to hold you back when you wanted one less thing to worry about."

"Well, I was very wrong." He started of with a firm statement, "I felt like I was just a bad husband to you, the worse one to ever exist. I mean, I can see it clearly now. You've been overworking yourself..."

"You're not." She commented.

"Yes, I am. Cancelled my tour, I want to try this and put the boys and you first for now." He shared, "I don't want to hear anything about it, I want this and will not complain about it, I promise."

He knows her way too much, doesn't he? He can really tell what she's about to say just by looking in her eyes.

"You really want that?" She still asked.

"Went regularly to see my therapist last week, talked to her about this. I realised I really want this. She really helped me through when I was confused. Lemme do this for me, for us, yeah?" His voice was nothing but assuring. Now he rarely talks whereabouts of his therapy sessions, to anyone for the matter of fact, but when he does it's when he's made firm decisions which he plans to stick to. Though YN would have supported him if he still wanted to go on tour.

"Okay." She agreed.

"Can I get a kiss? Missed you so much!" Harry was already leaning in but she pulled back.

"Don't want you to get sick!"

"I don't care." He shrugged, dipped his head lower to press a gentle kiss on her mouth. "I love you."

"I love you." She leaned into his touch, little puppy kiss they shared.

"You want to come home?" He asked.

"I want to stay here for the rest of my days off." She shook her head. It was just going to clear her mind and give her some rest now, plus she doesn't feel like driving back to Hampstead when one of her organ is literally bleeding haywire.

"That's alright." He nodded, "are you going to come back home on Monday then?"

"Mhmm." She nodded. He gave her another firm kiss on her mouth.

"Rest now, okay? I'll go see our babies." He gave her yet another kiss, before he reluctantly walked to the bathroom to wash off his face first. He headed out to see Harper and Harlow.

"Yay, Papa!" Both of them went running to him as expected.

Harry was gonna be pulled y YN's dad to a side to give him a bug talk. He could sense it. Her dad is protective of her. Harry wouldn't blame him, he'd do the same if anyone to hurt his kiddos. So he braced himself.

To his surprise, he was forced to stay over for the weekend with the family. They never brought up the topic of divorce which was now being scrapped, though all of them were happy to hear they're planning to stay together.

YN knew people online are gonna hate her, if they didn't already that Harry cancelled his entire tour just because he wants to give his family the time and love they deserve from him. Also the pull back from divorce was gonna divid his fandom into two parts for sure, just like their wedding did.

YN and Harry both got married at just the age of 19 and 20, which was their own decision after dating of year and half and he was still in the band. Very young indeed but it was their decision. It wasn't taken very well by the media. But who cares?

They're still together and going strong!

N O T E :

1) I wrote this in like few sittings. Sorry if there are any typos or words missing. 🥺 I didn't proofread this.

2) Hope you liked this one.

3) Pls lemme know what you think, what Harry should have done in your opinion?

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[thepenultimateword]

Too Tall Part Six

I missed my awkward space babies

||Part One||Part Two||Part Three||Part Four||Part Five||

Antolin held a hair tie in his teeth as he gathered his hair into a half-knot. His face was still pale, and his leg throbbed like hell, but he finally had the energy for an outing. Though, conscious to preserve that energy, he currently sat on the end of his bed, the wall mirror taken down and propped haphazardly in an open dresser drawer.

He turned his reflection from side to side as he ran his fingers through the top layer of tangles, scrutinizing the deep blue cross-wrap shirt from all angles. It had been a rather long time since he'd been on shore leave, so It had taken forever to find an outfit that wasn't a uniform or lounge clothes. The shirt's neck plunged a little low for comfort. It looked strange. Was that out of unfamiliarity or because it actually looked bad? He hadn't minded the look before, but now after several years of tight, high collars, he felt almost indecently exposed.

“You can’t be serious.”

Antolin briefly met Zae’s glaring eyes in the mirror. “What?" He took the hair tie in his hand and pulled the tail through two and a half times. "It’s just a walk.”

“You aren’t actually interested in that bloodmonger, are you?”

He picked up a hairpin with dangling blue glass beads and paused. Interested? Unai had been interesting since the moment she arrived on-station. But Zae was talking romantically, wasn't she? That was a much harder question. Antolin had always planned on having a relationship with another human--if his job ever gave him the time that was. Unai was about the furthest thing from a typical future that he could imagine. The culture, the planet...the height. Not bad...but complicated. Different. However, he had grown used to her presence. And the idea of going out to do something un-work related did make his heart speed a little fast. Not that any of that was enough to make sense of.

“I don’t know," he said. "Admittedly, it is a little strange. But I do like her. To what extent I’m still not sure. In any case, we're friends."

Zae frowned deeper, folding her long, slender arms. "She’s arrogant."

Antolin offered a half-shrug as he slid the pin into his bun. “She’s arrogant because she has a right to be. She does her job with a proficiency and vigor I’ve rarely seen.”

“Only because she’s trying to impress you. I swear, the rumors I've heard around the station since she's arrived. Does she have no shame?"

Rumors? He'd have to probe around about that once he was up and able again.

“I highly doubt she would have reached the rank of captain without a good work ethic.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t change that she's Ke'turian--an incredibly violent species. They take whatever they want by force. And you're human."

Antolin frowned at the implication. Did everyone see him as weak? He'd proven himself multiple times on the Zenith, enough times to get this position. Yet, sometimes, he had the impression that everyone was simply humoring him. His stripes held the threat of federal discipline, so they did as they were told. But they didn't actually respect him. Obviously whoever was letting in their enemies found him an easy target. And now Zae felt the need to fret over him as if he were a child. He even doubted his own abilities after that terrible fight with the Lasters.

But then there was Unai. She had said she'd battle alongside him. Surely a Ke'turian would know best about battle. It hadn't felt like a lie, even with her abrupt retreat after saying it.

He drew himself up in his seat. "I'm quite capable of defending myself against any threat. Ke'turians included." The cold tone clearly struck Zae because she immediately dropped her gaze. Satisfied, he allowed a little warmth back into his words as turned away from the mirror to face her head-on. "But I can hardly picture Captain Unai attacking me."

Zae remet his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Be careful."

He rolled his eyes. "I will. Promise. Now," he grasped his crutch, shoving himself to his feet and limping a couple feet out from the bed. "How do I look?"

Zae sighed. "Like you think you're going on a date."

***

Unai's long stride had brought her to Hayes's door too quickly. She was at least 15 clicks too early. Knocking on the door now would be an embarrassment, another overeager display of her one-sided affections. That was...if they were one-sided. Because this was a date. Right? She'd at least intended it to be when she originally asked--or tried to ask. She wasn't certain what it was now that Hayes had taken ownership of the excursion.

Unai leaned back against the metal wall. She shouldn't ask. If Hayes hadn't intended anything by proposing a walk--which he probably hadn't--it would be uncomfortable to bring it up. Not to mention the recent gossip on the topic. She'd never been subtle, but it was a little ridiculous that her connection to Hayes was being so blown out of proportion now. She really hoped Hayes hadn't caught wind of any of it. She'd specifically left mention of it out of their conversations in case the bother affected his health or his opinion of her.

She checked her communicator's clock function. Still 13 clicks early. Maybe it was alright to be at least 5 clicks early. Punctuality was a virtue. So that only left 8 to go. Manageable.

She smoothed the front of her plain black tunic for probably the fifth time since putting it on. The collar settled comfortably just below her throat, only a little lower than that of her uniform, but the sleeveless nature of the garment had her a little uneasy. On Ke'tukar, bared arms to a potential mate were as obvious a signal for courtship as shouting it aloud; she doubted Hayes knew that, but it hadn't stopped her from wanting to do so anyway, just as her own personal declaration.

Another glance at her communicator. 5 more clicks. Well, maybe 10 clicks early would actually be fine.

Unai raised her hands to the door and hesitated. She'd been letting herself in these past weeks anyway. And Hayes didn't always hear the knock. Maybe she should simply enter as usual. That might even let Hayes know the stooping level of her expectations.

She pressed the door button, moving forward as the door slid open. And nearly ran into Lt. Zae in the process.

Unai backed up quickly as the Lieutenant's initial surprise faded, and she stepped into the hall, punching the door button back to closed as she did so.

"Captain." Her address was chilled as usual, and her silver eyes roamed up and down Unai's frame with an almost sick regard.

"Lieutenant," Unai returned through gritted teeth.

"Subtle are we?"

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I don't understand what you're implying."

Lt. Zae nodded at one of Unai's arms. "Ke'turian females woo the males by exposing their arms. A show of the strength you have to offer. I hope you are not expecting Commander Hayes to fall prey to such a spectacle."

Unai fought down the flutter of her collar and set her jaw.

"My clothing has no intention outside of its flattering fit, and even if it did, I don't see how it's any of your business."

Lt. Zae rose up to her full stringy height--a little higher than midchest--the already pinkish hue of her skin darkening with contempt. "Commander Hayes is my longtime colleague, commander, and friend. You expect me to be delighted at his dalliances with a Ke'turian military officer?"

Unai wished she could roar in the face of this disrespect. Bare her fangs, raise her collar, and challenge Lt. Zae to a combat of honor. But that would only upset Hayes and satisfy the Lieutenant's bad opinion of her. Instead, she let her fangs only show slightly. "Xersians and Ke'turians may have differing ideals, but I never knew a Xersian to be openly prejudiced toward an entire species."

"It's not the Ke'turian species trying to initiate courtship with Antolin. It is only one."

Unai knew it shouldn't matter, but that casual first name drop made her insides twinge. Lt. Zae really was on closer terms with Hayes. But that still did not excuse whatever she was being accused of. "Am I missing something, Lieutenant?"

"You Ke'turian’s are as aggressive when courting as you are when fighting. You expect me to trust a species that takes their mates by force?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent; I've read up on Ke'turian customs. Fighting other females to the death. Taking the males to husband--sometimes by physical force--without allowing any sort of choice. It's disgusting."

“What?” Unai cried, her collar flapping up irritatedly. “Maybe a few centuries ago! Where did you read that, a history book?"

"It was a modern study on various species' courting rituals."

"Written by who? A Xersian?"

"The libraries on Xersa have an extensive collection of research. All of which is heavily peer-reviewed and fact checked."

"Sounds like your libraries are trash, if that counts as heavily fact-checked. Ke'turian courtships are consensual. If I am denied, I will give up my pursuit entirely." It hurt to say aloud, like a rock sinking to the bottom of her stomach. But it was true. Her advances only went as far as Hayes accepted them. Maybe that was another reason she wasn't being totally forward. Once she received the official no, it was done. She'd rather bide her time in hopes of a one-day yes.

Lt. Zae blinked a few times. Taking in the offense and the claim all at once. Her face contorted from enraged, to considering, to flat. "I...will check a few more sources. However, my current trust remains nonexistent. If I hear of anything unsavory occurring on this 'walk', I will use my current commanding power to dismiss you from the station. Clear?"

"Perfectly," Unai growled. She maneuvered around the Xersian, pressing the door button with a large, intentional gesture. As it slid back, she stepped into Hayes' quarters without a second glance at the eyes piercing her back.

Hayes hastily pushed himself up on his crutch as she entered. "Captain Unai!"

"Commander!" she returned, nearly on choking the greeting. He wore a blue tunic-style shirt that cross-wrapped over his chest, but not before dipping just below his clavicle.

No. No. She was not going to be accused of ogling again.

Unai forced her gaze away from his elegant neck and the peeking portion of--despite his months in bed--a toned chest. She didn't know why she had expected him to be in uniform today. Maybe because besides the sleep clothing he wore in his quarters, she'd never seen him in anything else. He seemed like the type who would sleep in his uniform if it weren't for the discomfort and possible damage to the material.

It turned out averting her eyes from the outfit did nothing to save her. Haye's long, dark hair, fell in full curls over his shoulder, and the little tendrils that were too small to be pulled into his half bun framed his face in a messy, tousled sort of way. His eyes, as dark and deep as ever, studied her intensely.

She looked down at the floor before he could see the full extent of her admiration.

You mean attraction, she corrected internally. Who do you think you're kidding?

Well, if this wasn't a date, hopefully Hayes.

After a few moments, when no reproach or teasing remarks came, Unai forced her gaze back up. Hayes was still staring at her. Not the piercing, soul-exposing way he usually looked at her, but like...like he was caught up in a thought.

"Hayes?"

Hayes jolted and cleared his throat. "You, uh, look nice."

Unai mustered every bit of her strength to keep her collar pinned taughtly against her neck. "Thank you. So do you." She awkwardly extended her arm. "Shall we?"

Hayes limped forward and took gentle hold of the crook of her arm with his free hand. He smiled briefly up at her with what seemed like...nerves? No, it was probably just uneasiness about going out for the first time. His leg was probably pretty sore.

"So, Captain, what did you have planned?"

[awarmcupofmilk]

Gojo x reader "Finishing Start"

afab!reader

series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

summary: half gojo’s pov- a drunken conversation ends your five year marriage w/ gojo

content warnings: breakup/sad, angst, deviations from gojo’s past arc, slight descriptions of violence (from fight w/ a curse), divorce

word count: 1,368

note: thoughts on this ending?

© 2022 awarmcupofmilk

please don’t repost, edit, translate, use, or copy my works on any platforms (if you’d really like to please reach out – reblogs are welcome)

Gojo ran his hand over his face. He had made you cry again. He lashed out. He made your job search about the money. And he still was no closer to finding out what he did.

He called Geto. 

“Are you sure you can’t remember?”

Geto sounded apologetic even through the phone. “I think you’re your best shot at remembering. But Satoru, I don’t think it was just that night.”

Gojo didn’t say anything. After muttering a word of thanks and hanging up, he found himself lost in thought. 

✧ 

You stared at the curse in front of you, something purple and viscous and disgusting oozing out from beneath it. The special-grade bellowed and charged at you. 

You closed your eyes and felt your cursed energy surge, channeling your innate technique. 

Ah, you’d missed this, you thought. The exhilaration of missions, the joy of doing something for yourself, the satisfaction from saving others, the impact of your energy against a cursed spirit. You didn’t regret giving it up when you did, but you really did miss this. 

You took out the curse with some effort, it had been a while; you were rusty. When you miscalculated a move and had to jump back, the curse’s nail dug into your arm. You’d have to go see Shoko later, it was considerably deep. But you knew you had done well. The reevaluation would be successful. Some previously anxious part of you was relieved that after half a decade of no practice, you still ranked a grade 1. 

✧ 

You sighed as you made it to Shoko’s. You ran into Gojo on the way. Insanely awkward. He froze, seeing your bloodied arm, but you didn’t meet his gaze. Besides sorting out the logistics of divorce, you hadn’t been speaking with him. 

“What’s with the doom and gloom?” Shoko turned towards you when you entered the room. 

“You have to ask?” You chuckled. And Shoko, eyebrow raised, nodded in understanding. 

 “You know, he really is being a baby about this.” Shoko said as she healed your cut. 

“No kidding,” You snorted. 

“Well, good to have you back.” Shoko said. You gave her a hug and thanked her before leaving. 

✧ 

Gojo had a box of kikufuku in front of him. What Geto said swam and echoed in his mind. “I don’t think it was just that night.”

He took one, bit into it, and remembered. 

You had been cooking dinner when he came home. You greeted him with a smile, even though you were clearly tired. Namie was playing with her stuffed bunny. 

“‘Toru,” You had smiled. “I made nikujaga.”

“Okay,” Satoru had responded curtly. He’d gone upstairs to change, and you’d looked disappointed. 

He had forgotten until now. That almost unsettled him more than the actual memory. Had he really cared so little about how you felt that he forgot?

He took another bite of the kikufuku. 

He had come back from a mission and went out. It was the first time he didn’t come straight home after a mission. He didn’t do much, mostly just strolling around a shopping mall. 

When he turned around, you were standing there, expressionless. He felt his phone vibrate and saw that you had called him twenty-three times, seeing as he had returned but was nowhere to be found. 

You were too far away, he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you had wiped a tear. But then, you ran up to him, and you were smiling. You didn’t look happy, more resigned. He hadn’t noticed.

“I’m glad you’re back,” You had said. “But at least call me when you get back next time, okay? I had to find out from Shoko.”

He’d muttered some sort of agreement. He thought maybe you’d sighed. 

Gojo felt cold. He took another bite. 

He’d begrudgingly took out time to come to your reunion. He’d stood silently as you introduced him, occasionally acknowledging the conversation. He could tell he was making the atmosphere awkward. Your friends were uncomfortable. You were trying to make the best of it. But then he left. He vaguely felt you turning around trying to look for him. Walking over to the bar, he didn’t drink but bantered with someone, he wasn’t sure who. 

Your friends shook their heads. You had sighed. You’d walked up to him, tone somber. “Satoru, it’s time to leave.”

He had nodded and gotten up, but he hadn’t noticed that for once, you didn’t call him “‘Toru”.

And then what you’d said entered his mind. “Do you really need me to point out how little you cared about me or this family?”

“Did it ever occur to you that what you did might be too painful, too humiliating for me to repeat? I don’t owe you an explanation!”

“You’ve done enough harm.”

“We both know you’ve done enough to justify this just from what you can remember. Focus on that.”

“Self-respect? You’re talking to me about self-respect?”

“I thought after our last conversation you’d actually indulge in some self-reflection.”

“You make me sick.”

And his stomach dropped at the thought that he hadn’t listened to any of it.  Even now, he’d only reflected because of what Geto said. 

Did you hold even any significance in his heart? He felt despicable.

And then, by some miracle, he remembered what he said that night. 

“Marriage really isn’t all that.”

“I’m really wasting my life. I’m always worried on missions, and now this is always being used against me, you know they gave up being a sorcerer.”

(“It was for Namie though, right?”) “Sure, but did I ask for that?”

“Look, all I’m saying is, Y/N and I were friends in Jujutsu High. Maybe we should have stayed at that.”

He slid off the couch, head between his knees. 

Who was he to interfere with your life? What had he ever done to give him that right? 

He had no answer. 

✧ 

You’d officially received your reevaluation. Grade 1 sorcerer. You’d be on missions soon, you were added to the payroll, it seemed like everything was coming together. 

Then Gojo called. Ugh.

You were in such a good mood, too. He was sure to ruin it. But besides for Namie, you’d been ignoring him for weeks. So, gritting your teeth, you answered.

“Y/N? Oh, Y/N,” Gojo said, hurriedly, as if he was afraid you’d hang up, yet relieved. “I’m so glad you picked up,”

“That’s a new tone for you,” you said, sarcastic yet pleasantly surprised. 

“I’m so—” He began, then stopped. “I… I just wanted to let you know I think you should have the house.”

“Oh,” you’d said, completely pleasantly surprised now. 

“Just let Namie visit when I find a place, okay?” You rolled your eyes. As if you’d been keeping her from him. 

“Anyways,” Gojo continued. “I just, if Namie needs somewhere to stay when you’re on missions, I’m here—unless I’m also on a mission, but, yeah.” He finished awkwardly. 

What was up with him?

“Uh, okay,” you said, confused, but pleased. 

“Great, we’re still on for today, right?”

You hummed in confirmation. And he hung up. 

What was that?

You frowned to yourself. But seeing the time, you went to get Namie. He was visiting today. 

✧ 

The three of you walked down the street. Namie held an ice cream cone, munching happily, humming to herself. You held her hand and kneeled down to wipe her face with a napkin. She giggled, and though you knew you’d have to wash her dress later, you laughed, too. 

Gojo watched the two of you, fighting the thought that maybe he had lost the happiness in his life. This family would never be the same again.

He felt a tear slide down his cheek in surprise, and wiped it away. You looked up then, and noticed, as you do, with a questioning glance. “You okay?” You mouthed, not wanting to concern Namie. 

Namie looked up then and gave him a grin. She held up the cone to him. You lifted her up so she could reach, content smile on your face. 

 And Gojo, taking a bite, wondered what it was he felt in his chest. 

<- Previous part ✧⭐︎☆⭐︎✧ END

✧ Masterlist ✧

taglist: @skzismyhome @chanyeolscoon @cloudsinthecosmos @dunnowhy-m @mykyoon @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @96jnie @scaraslover @iam-mia9 @carirosesg @aeanya @wretchedthingluz @whippedbyikemen @vesta-ro

[munson-blurbs]

I am thinking older Eddie? 🤔 he's not nearly as confident as he used to be but meets his dream gal at maybe a concert? Gets his groove back. Maybe he's a single dad who feels like he hasn't had time or energy to be himself anymore and she makes him feel like that again?

I just feel like you'll be able to really make it so good.

Warnings: none--all fluff :)

WC: 2.7k

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Okay, his bedtime is 7:30 PM, but if you get him down before 8:30, I’ll be amazed,” Eddie tells his uncle, grabbing his guitar case and slinging it over his shoulder. “He’s in that phase where he only wants to eat macaroni and cheese, so just go with that tonight. No need for you to fight with him over it.”

Wayne chuckles, bouncing the toddler on his hip. “And when will you be out of your ‘only eating macaroni and cheese’ phase?” he asks Eddie, who promptly flips him off in response. “Hey! Not in front of the impressionable kid!”

“Daddy will see you when you wake up tomorrow,” Eddie promises his son, pressing a quick kiss to his scalp. “Be good for Grandpa.”

“Oh, he’s always good for me,” Wayne says, making a funny face at the little boy. “Isn’t that right, Kirk?” He frowns as Kirk’s tiny bottom lip quivers and he reaches out for his dad. “C’mon, buddy; Dad has to go to his concert!”

“No!” Kirk whines, crocodile tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. Eddie’s heart pangs, and he second guesses his decision to go out.

As though he can read his nephew’s mind, Wayne tuts at Eddie’s hesitation. “Nuh-uh, absolutely not. You haven’t done anything for yourself since this troublemaker was born.” He wipes a tear from Kirk’s face and blows a raspberry into his belly. A mix of giggles and sobs leaves the boy’s throat. “We’re gonna be just fine. Now, go.” He practically shoves Eddie out the door. 

It’s been ten years since Eddie graduated from Hawkins High. The day he crossed that stage, middle fingers aimed at his exasperated principal, he’d vowed never to return to this shithole town. And he’d kept that promise up until two years ago. Kirk was only five months old when Celeste had up and left, claiming that she couldn’t handle the stress of motherhood any longer. She’d left her key to their dingy apartment on the countertop, along with the engagement ring Eddie had saved so long to buy her. He’d pawned it a few weeks later, desperate to scrounge up some money for baby formula. And when that money ran out, he’d found himself back in his hometown, bunking with his uncle. Again. 

The goal was to move out, get a little place for himself and Kirk, and give Wayne his trailer—and his freedom—back. After years of raising his brother’s kid, the last thing he probably wanted was to help raise his nephew’s. For the most part, Eddie’s able to balance his job as a telemarketer and fatherhood, especially since he mostly works from home. But on the days where he has to schlep into the office, he relies on Wayne for child care. His salary is decent, and he has medical coverage for himself and his kid, but he hates working a nine-to-five desk job. 

He tunes the radio to a classic rock station, bypassing whatever saccharine pop songs repeat on the Top 40 channels. A smile tugs at his lips when he hears the familiar bridge. 

Master, master

Where’s the dreams that I’ve been after?

Master, master

You promised only lies

It takes him back to a time where his only worries were passing O’Donnell’s class and planning sadistic Hellfire campaigns. Now, his life revolves around potty training and quelling temper tantrums. But even on his most exhausting days, like when he makes Kirk exactly what he wants for lunch, and the kid flips the plate onto the floor, he would do anything for him. He’d choose his son one thousand times over.

Did I leave the number to the club in case of an emergency? he thinks, slamming on the brakes and nearly causing a collision before remembering that he’d jotted it down on a notepad and given it to Wayne. 

It’s been too long since he’s played in front of anyone, save for lullabies to get Kirk to sleep. But Gareth was coming back to Indiana for a weekend, and he’d damn near begged the guys for a one-night only Corroded Coffin reunion. Eddie didn’t have the heart to turn him down.

He looks over his shoulder into the backseat, catching a glimpse of Kirk’s car seat. Who would’ve thought that the teenager who used to try to hook up with girls in the back of the van–emphasis on try–would now spend his time cleaning out Cheerio crumbs between the seats?

Pulling into the parking lot, Eddie breathes out a nervous sigh. He’s been practicing every day, all the covers they used to play back in the mid-80s, but he doesn’t have the same confidence he did back when they jammed out at the Hideout. Being a parent certainly knocks you down a few pegs, has you questioning yourself all too often.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself, pulling his guitar from the trunk and heading into the club. 

“Hey, man! Long time no see!” Jeff claps him on the back, and Gareth pulls him in for a hug. “Jesus, it’s been years.”

“You didn’t bring the kid?” Gareth asks, peering around.

Eddie just laughs. “Nah, ‘s a little past his bedtime. Plus,” he adds, “I don’t want him starting school and singing ‘Hot for Teacher.’” The rest of the band shares a chuckle and starts warming up.

“Did you guys check out the bartender?” Trevor asks, tuning his bass. “She’s a cutie, if any of you wanna chat her up later.”

Gareth snorts. “Eddie’s the only single one out of us; and we all know how he is with the ladies.” He turns to his friend. “Seriously, when’s the last time you got any, dude?”

Too long, Eddie thinks, but just gives Gareth a friendly shove. “Your mom gave it to me good last night.” He grins as Jeff and Trevor chime in with a chorus of oohs. But he’s curious about this bartender, so he peeks around the curtain.

And there you are.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. You’re wearing a black tank top that frames your chest perfectly, paired with a denim miniskirt. Your eyes crinkle as you giggle at something a patron says, and Eddie feels himself melt. “She’s, like, really fuckin’ pretty.” His eyes widen. “Should I talk to her?”

“Let’s play our set first, all right Casanova?” Jeff jokes. “Impress her with your kickass vocals and guitar skills, if you’ve still got ‘em.”

Eddie gives him the middle finger, but he’s wondering the same thing. He doesn’t have time to explore it further before the emcee is announcing Corroded Coffin. “Showtime, boys!” Eddie calls out, hoping no one catches the warble in his voice.

Forty minutes later, the four guys jog off the stage, drenched in sweat and filled with adrenaline.

“That…was…awesome!” Trevor shouts, high-fiving the rest of them. “We can still rock after all these years!”

Eddie’s grinning so wide, his lips could stretch off of his face. “Hell yeah, we do! Woooo!” He grabs a towel and wipes his forehead and back of his neck. He feels like he’s on top of the world; nothing he’d bought from Reefer Rick ever gave him this type of high. He clenches the guitar pick that hangs around his neck; it’s just like the one he wore in high school, except this one has a photo of Kirk on it. Wayne had it custom made for Kirk’s first Christmas. Your old man was a rockstar tonight, little buddy, he thinks, hopefully, you’ll be able to watch me in action someday.

His thoughts are interrupted by a light knocking. He turns around to see you standing in the doorway, holding a tray with four ice-cold glasses of water. “You boys thirsty?” you ask, flashing a smile that could knock him right off of his feet.

“Eddie sure is,” Jeff mutters with a smirk, which disappears as soon as Eddie shoots him a glare. If looks could kill, Jeff would be six feet under right about now.

You cock your brow with a confused expression, but Eddie just shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders over. “Thanks,” he mumbles, plucking a glass from the tray.

“Are you…Eddie?” You look up at him through your lashes, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes. 

“Thas’ me,” he says with a small laugh. “Did you like the show?” He could smack himself; you probably tuned out the music at this point. Especially loud metal covers by a bunch of late twenty-somethings.

He’s surprised by your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah, you guys are amazing! It was a nice change from the grunge bands that usually play.” You wrinkle your nose. “The other day, we had someone come in who only sang Spice Girls songs. That was interesting.”

Eddie laughs, despite his nerves. “Was she any good, at least?”

“No,” you reply pointedly, “he was not.” You motion towards his empty cup. “Want a refill? Or maybe something stronger?”

“Maybe just a Shirley Temple; he’s gotta get up in the morning with his kid,” Gareth pipes up, and Eddie whips his dirty towel at his head.

Your eyes soften. “You have a kid?” It’s not an accusation, nor is it said with disgust, which Eddie is all-too used to. 

“Y-Yeah, a two-year-old,” he stammers, leaning forward slightly to show the guitar pick necklace with his son’s photo on it. “His name’s Kirk.”

“As in Hammett, or as in Captain?” you tease. “Or both?”

Eddie runs a hand through his tangled curls. “Hammett; definitely Hammett,” he answers with a chuckle. “Kid’s probably cooler than him, too.”

“Well, his dad is a total rockstar, so I’m not surprised,” you shrug. “C’mon back to the bar with me, and I’ll get you that Shirley Temple. On the house,” you add.

Jeff waggles his eyebrows and Trevor lets out a low wolf-whistle as Eddie follows you. Gareth is still traumatized from the towel incident to mess with him.

He used to flirt with bartenders all the time; the more out of his league they were, the more fun it was to shoot his shot. But he’s out of practice now, and it doesn’t help that he’s completely intimidated by you.

Think, Munson, think, he wills himself. “So, uh, what’s your name?” You give him your name, and he smiles. “That’s a kickass name, yeah.” A ‘kickass name’? That’s the best you could come up with?

You only laugh at his response. “I mean, I’m not named after Kirk Hammett, but it’s not half bad.”

“Nah, it’s a good name.” Okay, enough with the name, Jesus. “How long have you been a bartender?”

“Feels like forever,” you muse. “It’s my night gig; just a way to make money while I’m working on my novel.” You drop some maraschino cherries into a clean glass. “Fun fact: thinking about publishing a book pays zero dollars.”

“You’re an author?” Eddie asks incredulously. “What kinda book are you writing?”

A blush creeps into your cheeks. “An aspiring author, I guess,” you say shyly, “but it’s a fantasy novel, like a Lord of the Rings type of thing.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve read Tolkien?” Duh; she literally just compared her work to his. Why else would she do that?

“He’s one of my favorite authors,” you admit, pouring the sweet grenadine and ginger ale before sliding the glass to him. “Him, Stephen King, Mary Shelley…”

“No fuckin’ way,” he breathes, and you look at him quizzically. “I mean, I’ve never met someone so pretty who was also into fantasy.” 

You giggle at the compliment. “Well, maybe we could talk more about it sometime? Like, when I’m not on the clock?”

Eddie’s head spins at the offer. “You drink coffee?” he blurts out. He couldn’t stand the stuff when he was younger, but after far too many sleepless nights with a colicky infant, he’d acquired a taste for it.

“I do,” you nod, grabbing the pen from behind your right ear and snatching the nearest unused napkin you can find. “Let me give you my phone number, if you wanna call me.”

They’re the most beautiful ten digits Eddie’s ever seen. “If I wanna…of course, yeah, that sounds great.” He folds the napkin carefully before putting it in his pocket, not wanting to smudge the ink. “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be at home, writing,” you laugh. “See you around, Eddie.”

“Yeah, see ya…thanks for your number,” he manages before darting back to the band, beaming like a kid who just woke up to a pile of presents on Christmas morning. “Oh, shit,” he says suddenly, reaching into his wallet and fumbling for some cash, pulling out a crumpled five-dollar bill.

“I told you,” you remind him with the smile that makes him swoon, “I’ll cover this one. Use the money you’re saving to buy something awesome for Kirk.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Gotta at least leave a tip for excellent service. And for managing not to tell those idiots back there to shut the fuck up.” Although he wouldn’t have been mad if you had. At this point, he didn’t think there was anything you could do that would turn him off.

“Nah, they’re harmless,” you wave off his statement. “Trust me, that’s nothing compared to some of the things guys say to me.” You shudder at the memory of the perverted statements leaving their whiskey-soaked lips.

Eddie sits up straighter. “Like what?” he asks, voice brimming with concern. 

“Oh, you know.” You try to sound casual. “Commenting on my body, grabbing my ass, asking to take me home–even when I can see that they’re wearing a wedding ring.”

“Sounds like you need a bodyguard,” he muses, taking a sip of his drink, rings clinking against the glass. The sugar perks him up as soon as it hits his tongue. 

“You offering?” It comes out more salacious than you’d anticipated, but you’re not about to take it back. The look on his face is priceless; he’s clearly not used to people flirting with him so brazenly. 

You watch as Eddie gives a shy smile, caught off-guard yet again. He toys with his necklace before answering. “Gotta earn my free drinks somehow. Otherwise, I’m just a mooch.”

“Yeah, but you’re a really cute mooch, so…” you giggle, wiping down the bar with a nearby towel. “I’d call it even.”

He nearly chokes on his drink. You think he’s cute? Really cute? He wants to ask if it’s a joke, or a prank that the guys put you up to. But you seem so genuine, and it’s been years since anyone has made him feel this special, so he swallows his insecurities. “Th-thanks,” he stutters. “I think it’s mostly the guitar; makes me look like a big shot.”  

“I think it’s your eyes. Or your smile,” you counter, placing your hand on top of his. “But the guitar certainly doesn’t hurt.” You glance down at his ringed fingers. “None of these symbolize an everlasting union, do they?”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p dramatically. “Just my commitment to tacky jewelry.”

You laugh, leaning in a bit closer to him. “I think I can handle that.” And for a moment, the world stops as Eddie’s breath hitches. He’s desperate to kiss you, but he’s sticky with sweat and doesn’t want to do anything in the dingy bar where you work. No, you deserve a nice date at a fancy restaurant with a freshly-showered Eddie Munson.

“Hey, Romeo!” Jeff calls out, walking towards the two of you with the rest of the band. “Wanna grab some pizza before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin?”

No, Eddie thinks crossly, I want to stay here and talk to the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen until closing time. 

“I’ve gotta get back to work anyway,” you reassure him. “But we can continue this conversation over that coffee date.”

Eddie visibly relaxes at the mention of your next meeting. “Abso-fuckin-lutely,” he agrees. And before he can wimp out, he presses his lips to your cheek, watching as your cheeks tinge a delicious shade of pink. 

Look at you, Munson. Back in the game.

--

[reveluving]

I’m honestly stuck on the thought of Benny after winning his fights. I imagine him having non stop energy and a bit frisky. How do you think Benny is after a fight?? 🫠🫠

a/n: ARIA MY DEAREST, it’s been a while!! And BABY, you are absolutely right! Hope you’re not fazed by the thought of your sweaty husband embracing you, because that is exactly what you’re gonna get! 

warnings: implied smut, jealous! Benny + dirty talking (yeah, we nasty as usual)

» fancy reading another triple frontier fic? check out the m.list!

Listen, he’s gotta pour out all that leftover energy and adrenaline elsewhere, right? 

His ego is something else after winning a match, I’ll tell you that! Leading the cheers and slapping his chest a couple of times, his contagious energy only roused the crowd into excitement and pride, all while his opponent lay on the floor, dazed. 

Benny’s tired and aching, no doubt, chest rising and falling but oh, it was well worth the pain. Now that he doesn’t have to worry about winning or losing, you’ll be on his mind immediately. 

The second they announce him as the winner, he’ll walk out of the ring and through the crowd, only bothering to high-five just a couple of guys before grabbing you by the hips and doing the wedding dip, kissing you like the extra of a man he is. 

But you knew he was holding back. 

Nobody saw his eyes the way you do.

What seemed like a tooth-rotting display of affection in the eyes of the spectators was actually Benny silently telling you, no, reminding you that tonight, you were his to claim.

He still held you in his arms, now upright with one of his hands cradling the back of your head. The other only itched to roam everywhere on your body until he was bombarded by a handful of the spectators. You noticed him clenching his jaw, mustering up a tight smile as he shook their hands and brushed off their praises. Though, he wasn’t blind to the fact that they were the same ones who heckled him in their seats, cheering for his loss until Benny successfully falcon punched the shit out of their buddy, now out cold in the ring. He knew they were only making sure they weren’t his next victim for the overconfident comments they had made earlier. 

Maybe, just maybe he would’ve let them off the hook if it wasn’t for the way they looked at you. 

Just before the fight, they followed Benny’s gaze, finally noticing you amongst the crowd as he caught your flying kiss. So, not only did he take the chance to look at you every time he had the higher ground as if asking you ‘did you see what I did there?!’, but he also turned to the group, silently promising them the worst with the most gut-wrenching glare. 

He even ran his thumb across his neck before pointing at them, the crowd only laughed and let out an ‘ooh’ at their demise, knowing they had no way to defend themselves if Benny was planning to keep his promise. 

Just remembering it only had his patience run thin, and his grip tightened as he shook hands with the final guy. 

“Thanks, but I do need to steal away my wife right now. After all that hard work, I want nothing more than to grab some dinner and a night in with this pretty lady right here, y’know how it is, right?” 

They didn’t have to be told twice, not when he cracked his neck to prove a point. They moved out of his way, barely able to hide their disbelief when he turned to you with a lovesick expression, motioning to you the way to the changing room like a gentleman. You playfully smacked his chest as his touch only lingered in ways that were anything but innocent. That only encouraged him, though—the cheers of the spectators may be great, but your giggles were so much better.

To his relief, the changing room was empty, and as soon as he closed the door, he’ll wrap his arms around you before you could even head to his locker, squealing as he plant multiple kisses anywhere from your neck to your shoulders. 

“Thank you, angel.”

“For what?”

“For making sure your husband’s not a sore loser.” You snorted.

“Me watching you helped you punch the daylight out of your rival?”

“Absolutely,” He responded in a matter-of-fact manner before raising his brow at you, “You didn’t know?”

“Shut up,” You squirmed, hearing him reply to you with an exaggerated ‘never!’ before attacking your neck with playful nips and fluttering kisses.

The two of you calmed down, you soon realized just how heavy his breath became. 

He was quiet, too quiet. 

And when you suddenly notice the proximity as his warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, you realized you were just seeing things back when he kissed you right after the fight. He wouldn’t let you turn around though, not when his hands fell to your hips—calloused and borderline deadly, yet, the same pair of arms enveloped you in a protective embrace. He was so careful when it comes to you. 

“Sweetheart?” You turned your head just a little, your husband’s only response being a soft hum before planting a soft kiss on the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, feeling the strap of your shirt fall far enough to uncover your cleavage, “Benny, no, someone might come in!”

You felt him grin at your squeaks, “Nobody’s gonna come in.” Not his trainer, not some random fan, not the owner even. 

He'll make sure of it.

You heard the clock 'click', just as he promised.

He interlaced his fingers with yours, bringing them to his lips with his eyes full of love yet daring you to look away. Lovey-dovey Benny wasn’t anything new to you, obviously, though you’d sometimes forget just how extreme it can be. 

But whether he was in the mood for something sweet or spicy, the one thing that never changes is how touchy he is. 

“Can I take you here, angel?” He murmured against your burning skin, groaning as you arched your back and rubbed yourself against him, “Can I fuck my pretty lil’ wife while those boys out there can only listen just how good I make you feel?” 

He purred, already dreaming at the thought of seeing you lost in the pleasure, all of which only he could make you feel. You were no better, finally leaning into him and helping him drop the shirt you wore to the floor.

He thanked you with a rather rough bite on your neck, chuckling darkly as you let out a loud yelp, and that would only be the beginning of it all.

No one screams his name better than you, after all, not even a crowd of hundreds.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

Wanted to make this into a full-on sexc time but I got some issues this week, fret not, though, because someone asked for jealous!benny (+ many others hehe), so you already know ;)))) Hope you enjoyed this, love y'all as always and don't forget to leave some sugar!! &lt;3

[maarrgarr]

The Unknown Heir

part five

masterlist of the Unknown Heir.

Gojo Satoru x fem! reader

Synopsis: The reader returns after being gone for two years and leaving her boyfriend, Satoru, without giving him a reason. But now she doesn't come back alone.

Warnings: English is not my first language, possible grammatical and spelling mistakes, some plot changes, angst.

N/a: When there are words in blue they mean flashbacks.

For several minutes, silence ruled the place. You and your former teacher just looked at each other, while Ryusei played with one of the dolls that had no cursed energy.

"Didn't that idiot Gojo take charge and that's why you ran away?", Yaga broke the silence and you quickly denied, "No, actually he doesn't know", "What do you mean he doesn't know?", "I never told him I was pregnant, let alone that I had his child". Silence reigned in the room again, although Masamichi didn't show much, you knew he wasn't happy with what you had told him. "Do you think it was the best decision to run away?" he asked you and you thought a little before answering, "At the time, it seemed to me the best option", "And now?". You didn't know what to answer, you had had your reasons for doing it, but you really didn't know if it had been the best choice. "I don't know". "Well, try to think about that, because when Gojo finds out, he's going to demand a reasonable answer from you. I guess you're going to tell him, right?" he asked you, "Yes, I just need time" you replied with a bit of insecurity, which he noticed, "Well, you'll be working next to him, and his son will be close to him and not talking about the great resemblance they have, so I don't know if you'll have a lot of time".

You knew you didn't have much time. if Gojo saw Ryusei, it was obvious that he would realize that he was also his son.

With Yaga you agreed that you would live there with Ryusei, but you told him that as soon as you got an apartment, you would move there, even though you would continue working at the school.

"Well, tomorrow I'll introduce you with the rest" he told you, "Okay, thanks Yaga-sensei" you thanked him with a smile, "Ryusei, let's go", you took your son's hand and both of you started to head to the exit, "Bye, bye" Ryu said goodbye waving his hand towards Masamichi. "Y/n" Yaga called out to you and you turned to look at him, "I'm glad you're okay" you smiled at him and walked out of there.

"His stuffed animals were cute" Ryusei told you, "They are not simple stuffed animals" you replied, "Why not?" he asked you and you sighed.

You had never talked to Ryusei about cursed energy, shamans or anything to do with that world. You felt it was too soon, though you also didn't want him to get to the age where he could already see the curses and not know anything about them.

"Because they have cursed energy" you replied, "Oh, and what's that?". You stopped in front of your bedroom door and opened it. "I'll tell you if you behave yourself", "I always behave well".

You knew that the rooms at school were big and only had one bed, so you had decided to bring Ryusei's bed too and luckily they had already put it there. You weren't sure if you were going to decorate the room much, for the simple fact that you didn't plan to live there.

You got down to your son's level and stroked his hair. "This will be our home temporarily, yes?" he just nodded. You were afraid the changes would affect Ryusei, but for now he seemed to take it well.

While you were arranging all the things in the room, night fell. You and Ryusei had dinner in the room and then he fell fast asleep. You, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. So you decided to go for a walk.

Every step you took through the long corridors was a memory of living there, memories of Suguru, Satoru, Ieiri and you being happy. It hurt your heart to see how time had passed and how things had changed for the worse. Until you arrived to that small bridge, the bridge where Satoru and you declared your love for each other.

"Even though you are a nuisance, I love you" he had told you, "Even if you are an arrogant, I love you too" you had replied, and then you kissed, becoming a couple.

A small tear rolled down your cheek, why had it all ended like this, didn't you deserve to be happy?

You felt someone approaching, so you wiped your tears and turned to see who it was. But, when you did, your heart started beating fast and nerves invaded your stomach.

"Y/n?".

[louisupdates]

From One Direction to Own Direction: Louis Tomlinson showcases confidence and musical growth in Melbourne

Alex Valentovich, 📸 Olivia Burns | February 4, 2024

British singer-songwriter and former One Direction member, Louis Tomlinson bought his Faith in the Future World Tour down-under and Melbourne was the lucky first on his Australia run to get a taste of what the artist had in store for them at the Sidney Myer Bowl on January 28.

Eager fans were lining up for miles down the road in the hot sun and as the announcement came out that the gates were now open, it saw everyone inching their way forward as fast as they could to get in. People were frantically prioritising either getting their hands on merch or to claim their spot for the rest of the night.

An hour went by from gates opening, people were still finding their way in as Melbourne’s own Velvet Club started off the evening. An indie rock band, who made you feel like all you were missing was the beach or a car with the windows down while blasting their music loudly. Was such a nice way to start off the night with good vibes and the sun shining, a very rare occurrence here, we were here to soak it all in.

Sea Girls hailing all the way from London were up next, giving some energy into the venue as people were still flooding in, filling up the open spaces. Familiar with these guys as I had already seen them live, I knew they would do a great job in amping everyone up for the evening ahead. Playing a few oldies but goodies and some tracks off of their newer album, they gave everyone a little taste of what they were about and surely gained some new fans at the same time.

Now it was just a half hour wait between the fans and getting to see their favourite artist. The excitement exuded from everyone along the barrier, counting down the minutes. But as soon as the intro video started playing on the big screen and over the loudspeakers, the crowd erupted into screaming. The band members swiftly got on stage and started playing the intro music. After getting the crowd all riled up, Louis walked out, hands raised above his head acknowledging the crowd, where the sea of people’s screams became even louder, if that were possible. He made his way to centre stage to a lone microphone where they seamlessly transitioned into ‘The Greatest,’ a ballad of a song to start off the night. Playing through mostly songs off his Faith in the Future album, with some earlier tracks, such as ‘Walls’ and ‘Kill My Mind’. He also added in a great cover of Arctic Monkeys’ song ‘505’ and playing a throwback of One Direction days with ‘Drag Me Down’. He had everyone in the palm of hands, as he moved to each side of the stage, often giving waves into the crowd’s direction which were met with screams of admiration and people singing back the words to him as loud as they could.

It felt as though the night came to an end as he abruptly walked off stage after singing ‘Out of My System’, a crowd favourite and single off his latest record. It felt like an eternity waiting for him to reappear, while the crowd started up many chants to try win him over and get him back on stage from yelling ‘Encore’ and ‘Louis’ to singing a few different songs, he finally gave in and he walked back out. The band started playing, and he broke out the first line of Saturdays. I thought, too chill of a song to end the night on, little did I know he had two extra songs planned, to that he sang another One Direction song ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go’, he then announced his final song, ‘Silver Tongues’. During this, he took an opportunity to jump off stage and ran across the front of the barrier, giving high fives and stopping to sing some of the song in the middle where fans were clambering to get just one acknowledging hand hold. Before we knew it, he was then back up on stage to finish off the song, before thanking the crowd, waving final goodbyes, and then disappeared, leaving the crowd in a bittersweet, whirlwind of emotion.

Other than a nod to his days in the band, by singing a couple of the group’s tracks, which I’m sure gave everyone a sense of nostalgia, myself included, if you were attending the concert, expecting a One Direction performance, you may have come away a little disappointed. While he may not be bouncing around the stage singing ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ with the others, he commanded the stage entirely on his own. His performance perfectly showcased so much growth and confidence within himself which was so amazing to witness. Going from being able to have other people to lean on, on stage for so many years, you have to hand it to him to take on all of this by himself. Louis was here to make his mark as a solo artist and I believe he did just that.

[love-and-monsters]

Halloween Poll Story

Multiple gendered eldritch god X gn human, second person, 8,024 words.

Happy Halloween! This story was the result of polls you all voted on. I hope you enjoy some spooky Halloween romance. Just as a heads up, I might not be around on this blog too much for a while after this for reasons I will explain in a later post. But I thank you all for your support.

Content warnings: Possession and mind control of innocents, implied manipulation, some possessive/obsessive behavior.

Summary: You have been working as a cursebreaker for years, clearing curses on items sent for recycling. But an unusual curse turns your mundane job in a surprising direction and catches the attention of a powerful being.

Perhaps things would have gone better if you were less exhausted. A notification had shot you out of bed at nearly five thirty, letting you know that the E train had been temporarily closed due to an infestation of direrats. The only other way to your work was the D train, which took a more roundabout route, and a connecting bus. When you’d arrived at the station, the D train was teeming with people also trying to make it to work on time, so you’d needed to shove your way past people to actually make it on in time. The bus had barely been better, and when you tried to grab your breakfast, you’d been dive-bombed by a pigeon-griffon and dropped your hash-brown.

Your work was a bit quieter than usual when you entered. It was never quiet- there was always banging and whirring and mechanical noises from the various pieces of equipment. But the usual chatter and shouting was softer than usual. Everyone seemed focused on their own work. You followed their lead and headed to your work station for the day’s load.

Being a cursebreaker at a recycling plant was an easy job. Identify the curse, stamp it out, and break down whatever the curse had been attached to for processing. Nine times out of ten, it was just removing the curse sigil, easy enough to do with a solvent or paint remover. Technically, anyone could remove a sigil, but most places employed a cursebreaker to do it regardless- a cursebreaker could identify the curse itself, something that was important in case it was booby-trapped. A cursebreaker might be more expensive to employ than your average worker, but it paid for itself when they prevented a curse that turned everyone within six miles into stone from activating.

Most of the time, the job was easy, anyway. You’d just been getting into the groove of it, scrubbing away paint like a champ, when a more complicated curse slid across your desk. Metaphorically speaking. You didn’t have a desk. It was booby trapped, stubborn, and overly complicated. Unweaving the magic took so long that you blew through your lunch break, and it sapped your reserves. Holding a curse in stasis took energy, and this one had been fighting you the whole way. You tossed it aside, relieved that it was over and ready to get back to simple, prank-level curses that could be removed with acetone.

And the next one was like that! And the next one. And the one after that. And then you ran into a problem.

Most curses you got were attached to objects, usually small ones that could be carried around and hidden somewhere before activation. Jewelry was most common, but sometimes they were things like hand mirrors or books. Furniture was not uncommon either. Sometimes even random bits of garbage. The curses were usually painted on, or carved into them if you wanted to get fancy. Easy to get rid of, if you combined removing the sigil with deactivating the curse. But the next curse was… not that.

It was metal. Maybe wrought iron, though you couldn’t tell for sure. It sort of looked like a wrought iron fence. But it was not painted or carved with a sigil. It was a sigil. And it was huge, almost bigger than a hubcap.

You lifted it up to feel the weight in your hands. It was lighter than you expected, but still quite solidly built. Even through your gloves, you could feel the faint heat it emitted. Powerful stuff. More powerful than you’d been anticipating. That… wasn’t good.

See, you weren’t necessarily a good cursebreaker. Good cursebreakers either went into government positions or private contracting firms. Both of those jobs were cushy, or as cushy as a job only two steps away from disarming bombs could be. Curses were dangerous shit, and if you could disarm the manmade curses or even the significantly nastier natural curses, you were set for life.

Unfortunately, your level of skill was only good for a recycling plant- undoing the piddly little curses that people slapped onto garbage that ended up in the dump. So much of the job was just scrubbing away poorly-constructed sigils that they didn’t bother to pay well for it, and they didn’t bother to check credentials that closely. So if you hadn’t quite passed the full cursebreaker exam and your license was technically only provisional… well, it didn’t matter much, did it?

Except now, looking down at a sigil that was more complicated than it had any right to be, it mattered.

You could call someone. Get it bumped up the chain of command, have the sigil taken elsewhere. But that could risk someone poking their nose into why you couldn’t, and you didn’t want to take the chance that someone would take a closer look at your credentials and see they didn’t pass muster. You needed this job.

Then again, trying to break a curse without knowing what you were doing… that could end in ways a lot worse than unemployment. Okay, new plan. The sigil looked impressive. But it was, possibly, not actually that dangerous. People did that sometimes, tried to make sigils look more impressive than they were to impress clients, especially rich ones. So maybe you just needed to tweak a little bit and it would fall apart.

You placed a hand on the very edge of the sigil and extended your senses into it, just enough to see the shape of it. The sigil itself would reveal information once it was fully surrounded by your senses and it would-

A white hot bolt of pain snapped through your arm, ignoring your heavy work glove. You snatched your hand away on pure instinct, and the sigil wobbled and clattered to the ground. The sound barely registered with you. There was just the blazing, boring heat in your hand. It didn’t feel like a burn. It felt like a white hot worm was twisting and boring its way through your flesh.

You staggered back, panic flaring through you. Cursebreakers were resistant to most curses- you were all schooled in those basics. But being resistant wasn’t the same as being immune, and the curse was in you. There were only precious minutes before it fully activated. Minutes that you couldn’t waste. But the pain was so much you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t-

The pain vanished. It didn’t go away instantly. It gradually cooled away, more like sticking a hot piece of metal in water and letting the heat steam off. You slumped against the back wall of your workstation, panting heavily. Sweat poured down your face behind your mask. Trembles worked through your body, making your hands unsteady. What had that been? You could still feel where the pain had been, like something on the inside of your arm had been burned raw.

Cautiously, you approached the sigil. It sat innocently on the ground. You kicked it. The metal scraped on the floor, but there was no pain. After a moment of hyping yourself up, you picked it up with your good hand.

Nothing. The sigil wasn’t biting anymore, at least. But you hadn’t just been holding it when the pain happened. You set it on the table and eyed it cautiously. The sigil had activated when you’d pushed your magic into it. Not even a large amount of magic, just enough to get the shape of it. If it had defensive elements that sensitive in it, the entire thing was far beyond your pay grade.

You debated on it for a moment, chewing your tongue in frustration. You needed to turn the sigil in. That was what you were supposed to do. It was too powerful for you to break down properly, and trying to break it down improperly risked some serious issues. But you would need to tell your boss for that, and you didn’t really want to risk losing your job.

You wrestled with it for a moment. The sigil didn’t seem to be immediately dangerous, and there weren’t great records kept about what items were given to who and when times they needed to be cleared by. So…

You propped the sigil up against one of the far walls of your workspace and turned to the next curse on your pile. It would keep. You could decide what to do later, maybe after a good night’s sleep.

The rest of the sigils went by easily. Your arm didn’t hurt anymore, though there was a vague, weird feeling in it. Not quite like a tingling, which was usually what residual magic felt like. More like… a weird coolness? Almost like there was cold air touching your arm, but from the inside.

It was a weird sensation. You tried not to dwell on it too much.

The direrat nest had been cleared by the time you left work. A bit strange. Direrats could chew up sections of track, given enough time, so even small nests often needed days of repair work. But you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You boarded the E train, which mercifully had only a few people, so there were seats, and dozed on your way home.

Perhaps that had been a bad idea, because you’d been groggy your entire walk home. And even though you probably should have eaten something and gotten some chores done, the only thing you wanted to do was crawl into bed.

Your arm still ached, even as you tucked yourself in to sleep.

Most nights, you didn’t dream. This night, you did. The dreams were disorienting, disconnected, and bewildering. Images of flying, falling, looking down over cities and up through the depths of the ocean. And the strange, consistent feeling of slithering through something like a wet tunnel, with walls on all sides and a single-minded determination to reach your destination.

You blinked your eyes open and groaned. It was like you’d barely gotten any sleep at all. Your head was fuzzy and pounding, though not with pain. It felt more like your blood was just pulsing around your brain.

It took several minutes before you could manage to force yourself out of bed. Your arm felt… strange. Not bad. Not even tingly, which was, again, the normal thing magic would have done. It felt a little warm, and it seemed to pulse in the same rhythm as your head.

For a moment, you entertained the idea of just calling in sick to work and avoiding the whole mess. You didn’t feel sick, but you did feel weird. But your therapist had been telling you to ‘avoid avoidant behavior’ and it wasn’t like you were getting paid for not working. After taking some time to mull it over, you decided to go in.

After showering and feeling somewhat more human, you headed out. The sky was cloudy, but not just a normal fall storm- there was a nearly green tinge to the clouds, like a summer thunderstorm before a tornado. You tucked your coat closer around your shoulders. Your arm and head pulsed.

The streets seemed emptier than usual. Even early in the morning, there were usually a decent amount of people around. It wasn’t entirely strange, considering that it looked like there was going to be a bad storm, but the streets were eerily quiet. It was unsettling. Your arm and head pulsed.

The ride to work was quiet. You dozed a little. It was peaceful. The tunnels were quiet and dark and traveling through them felt right. Your dreams and the real world merged in a strangely pleasant way. Your arm and head pulsed.

Work was the same as usual, with the same ambient noises. You stepped into your station and froze.

The sigil was gone.

You’d left it propped up against your workstation, just next to the table everything rested on. It was unmissable. Even if it had fallen over or rolled, it would have been visible from the entrance. It was gone.

Your blood ran cold. And at that exact moment, your boss appeared at the entrance of the hall. “C’mon back. I gotta talk to you.”

If possible, your blood ran even colder. You nodded and followed him.

It was a short walk to his office. That was nice. It didn’t give you much time to think about all the different ways you were fucked.

He stepped inside the office, gestured for you to head in as well, and closed the door behind him. The room seemed weirdly dim- it had a window, but the light was gray thanks to the clouds, and the fluorescent lights were off. There was a votive flickering at the corner of the room. Weird. Were candles allowed in this building?

Your boss sat at his desk, drawing your attention toward him. As you looked, your blood turned to an icy slush in your veins.

That was where the sigil had gone. It was sitting behind his desk, just barely visible. It didn’t look restrained- that was something of a relief. Maybe it hadn’t been as bad at you’d been thinking and you were just going to get scolded for not taking care of it the day you’d been assigned it. Maybe you could bluff your way out of it.

Your boss leaned over your desk. He was a big man, bearded, large stomach and beefy arms. He could definitely be intimidating when he wanted to. And you were expecting him to glower and glare and demand explanations.

What you weren’t expecting was him to smile. “How’s your arm?”

You’d stopped paying attention to it, in the cold terror you’d felt when you’d been called. But now that your attention was drawn back to it- it was warm. Pulsing. That strange feeling was still there. Maybe stronger than it was before. You glanced down at your arm, but it looked normal. Same as it always does. “It’s fine. Of course.” You clear your throat. “Why do you ask?”

His smile widened. The lighting of the room made it look… almost unnatural. Like it wa too wide. “It was your point of contact. Mortals can react unpredictably to it.”

A slow, prickling sensation crawled up your spine. That smile… that was wrong. Your boss didn’t smile like that. You’d been working here for a year and a half. He’d never smiled at anyone like that before. He didn’t smile, period. Especially not to someone who fucked up the rules. And you couldn’t imagine him calling anyone ‘mortal’ either.

Good cursebreakers used their brains. They thought about what they did, had models and scientific understandings of curses. Years of knowledge, practical and from books. A good cursebreaker survived by thinking about things, coming up with theories and applying their smarts.

You were a bad cursebreaker. Bad cursebreakers survived on their instincts. And your instincts were saying to get the fuck out.

It took seconds to get out of the room. Only a minute to get out of the building. You fled down the street, not trying to go anywhere in particular. Just trying to get away. After several blocks, your lungs and legs were screaming for a break and you had to stagger to a stop.

No one was following behind you. And, after taking a moment to assess, you realized that you probably hadn’t been followed at all. There had been no footsteps following you as you ran.

You took a moment to think about that. He hadn’t bothered to pursue you, which meant either he didn’t care where you went or what you did. Or he figured he was going to find you anyway. Both those options were chilling. It meant he believed, at least, that you were powerless to do anything against him.

Bereft of anything else to do, you slipped into a nearby café and contented yourself with nursing a small coffee. And thinking. Your boss- no, that hadn’t been your boss. In retrospect, you should have seen it sooner. He had a slight accent that this voice hadn’t had. In fact, the accent your boss had spoken in had been identical to yours.

Your arm pulsed with warmth again.

You fumbled for your sleeve and yanked it up. Again, there were no physical marks on your arm. Except…

On your palm. Right where the sigil had initially touched your skin. There was a tiny spot, almost like a burn. You didn’t remember seeing it when you last looked at your arm, though it was small enough that it would have been easy to miss. You ran your finger over it. The mark didn’t hurt, though touching it did make the warmth pulse strangely.

You’d already had your suspicions, but this more or less confirmed it- whatever was happening to you, to your boss, it was because of the sigil. It had affected you, somehow, as well as affecting other people.

Okay. You knew now that it was due to the sigil. Now what? Go to the government? There was a cursebreaker office only a few stops away by train. They would know what to do. Probably. If you’d been infected by touching the sigil and your boss had done the same when he moved it, then another cursebreaker should be able to fix it by breaking the curse without touching. Not easy, but possible.

You headed back out into the storm. It hadn’t started raining, but it looked like it might do any second. It felt a little like there were eyes on you as you headed for the station. Maybe your guilt conscience was prickling at you.

The train ride was mostly empty. That was a little unusual, but you were grateful for it. You just wanted to curl up in the back of the car and close your eyes.

Once the train stopped, you hurried toward the cursebreaker’s office. You’d only been there a couple times, and neither visit had been pleasant. Nausea curled in your stomach as you headed through the large doors at the front.

It was a typical office building, with a few plants and an overly-fancy looking waiting room. A bored-looking secretary sat at a desk, clicking away at a keyboard.

You approached and she, predictably, glanced up. Then she beamed. A wide, overjoyed smile. It was so out of place it stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t the smile of someone greeting another shitty customer. It was the sort of smile you give when a loved one you haven’t seen for years shows up unexpectedly at your door.

“Hi!” she said, leaning over the counter toward you. “What can I help you with?             You glanced over your shoulder, just in case she was maybe addressing someone else. There was no one else there. “Um. Hi. I was looking for a cursebreaker?” You couldn’t help the hesitation in your voice. It was just weird, the way she was looking at you.

“I see.” She didn’t look back at her computer. Her gaze on you was unrelenting. “And what do you need a cursebreaker for?”

You felt a prickle of sweat bead on the back of your neck, despite the coldness of the room. “I need to break a curse.” Surely this wasn’t protocol, to make someone explain their curse issue in the lobby. Even if no one else was around.

She smiled indulgently. “I can take you to one of our cursebreakers, then. I believe Tamson will be available right now.” She stood. “Follow me.”

“I’m sure I can figure out their office if you just give me a number,” you said. You sort of didn’t want to spend more time with her than you had to. There was something about her that was just… Unsettling.

“Now, we wouldn’t want you to get lost,” she said. “And it’s certainly no trouble. Slow day, after all.” She laughed to herself, like it was some kind of clever joke you didn’t get.

There was a part of you that was considering just leaving, but you weren’t sure what else to do. And cursebreakers were always vaguely weird, right? Everyone said so. Maybe their secretaries were weird too.

You followed her down a series of halls lined with doors until she came to one marked ‘Aaron Tamson.’ She didn’t even bother to knock before opening the door.

Tamson was sitting at his desk, staring right at the door when you walked in. Like he’d been expecting you to be there right at that moment. He must have heard your footsteps. The secretary stepped into the room behind you and closed the door.

“Thank you, Molly,” Tamson said. You glanced over your shoulder at her. She was standing right in front of the door. Blocking the doorway. Like a guard.

Your stomach curdled. Your arm pulsed with warmth. Did they know why you were here? Was this the prelude to an arrest? No, they would have called their actual guards, if that was the case. Not a secretary. But they were definitely trying to keep you here.

“Don’t mind Molly,” Tamson said. “You just gave us such a surprise when you ran before. We don’t want that happening again.”

“Wha- what are you talking about?” A bit of anger made its way into your voice. Anger was good. Anger felt safe. Like maybe you could fight your way out of this. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just- I just need a cursebreaker.”

He laughed. Molly, behind you, joined in his laughter, making it an eerie chorus. Your skin prickled and your arm throbbed with heat. “Oh, come now. We both know that’s not true. You bit off a bit more than you could chew in the curse department, and I think that’s frowned on by most humans, yes? Poor thing. You couldn’t possibly have known what you were getting into.”             Cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck, contrasting with the uncomfortable heat in your arm. “You know about that?”             “I don’t see how we couldn’t.” Molly spoke that time, and you whirled to look at her. There was something unsettling about her expression. Not just in the way she was smiling, which was still creepy just due to the situation, but the fact that her expression was the exact same as Tamson’s. Not just that they were both smiling, but the way the corners of their mouths were positioned, the amount their eyes crinkled at the edges. It was subtle, but looking at two very different people with completely identical expressions made your uncanny senses go off like crazy.

This was not ‘two slightly weird people trying to intimidate you because they knew about your crimes.’ This was wrong.

“Please, don’t be so frightened,” Tamson said. You spun back toward him. He was standing, leaning over the desk. “Nobody here wants to hurt you.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was shrill, trembling. “Then why are you trapping me in the fucking room?”

“Not trapping,” Molly said. “Not like that, anyway. We just want you to listen to what we have to say.”

“All I want,” you said, “is to get a cursebreaker and to destroy that sigil and to have things go back to normal.”

Molly’s brows drew together. “No,” she said in a gentling voice. “You don’t want that. You just think you do right now.”

“Let us explain first,” Tamson said. “Then we’ll see how you feel afterward, all right?”

You swallowed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“There are always choices,” Molly said. “But you won’t be leaving the room until we’ve said our piece.”

You slumped into the chair used for consultations. “Okay. Then talk.”

They smiled. The same smile again. And then they spoke. In unison. “The sigil is ours. We did not make it, but it belongs to us. We do not know the circumstances of its creation, only that it gave us a pathway into this world. We could see into this world, this realm, and see the million tiny spots of magic. But the pathway was not large enough for us- a window, to use your terms, instead of a door. We needed a door.

“The sigil was taken, moved. We were powerless to stop it, but we could nudge. Make our sigil less obvious. Let it drift, until it came upon a place where we could extend our power.”

The sweat on the back of your neck was like ice and your stomach was rolling. “Which was me.”

“Correct.” Molly and Tamson gestured toward you in the same motion. “Think of it was an incomplete circuit. With one last application of energy, you completed the circuit. And thus, we were freed.”

The picture of what the hell was going on was becoming slowly clearer in your mind. Other realms. Needing to use doorways to come through to your world. They were old creatures, creatures from a place not quite like Earth. Sometimes, they were referred to as gods- people had even worshipped them a long time ago. But eventually, with the advent of cursebreakers, they’d been sealed away. The only fragments of their power that remained on Earth were the curses that people could use. The ultimate curses were ones that would bring the old gods back, the ones the allowed them to extend their reach into Earth once more.

The curse you’d been working on hadn’t looked like that. It had looked like, if not a normal curse, than at least a human one. But if they’d been able to disguise it, then maybe you wouldn’t have known.

Your arm was radiating heat. Not like burning, but like there was just warmth pulsing out from inside it. You glanced down at it. That little burn spot you’d noticed before seemed… bigger? Or maybe you were just imagining things due to stress. “Are you going to kill me now?” It seemed a logical step. Murder the person who knows about you so they can’t stop you. Why they were telling you this, you didn’t know. Maybe it was like a weird, elder god brag.

There was silence for a moment. Then Tamson stepped forward and slipped his fingers under your chin. You had been looking down at the ground, so he had to press a bit to get you to lift your gaze to his. Molly pressed in close to your side. “You think we’re going to kill you?” It was hard to get a read on his tone. He could have been sympathetic. He could also have been winding you up you it was funnier when he stabbed you.

“You are the one who called us into the realm. You reached out to us and brought us in through your form,” Molly said. Her voice was very close to your ear. “Your magic was the spark that allowed us to enter. Through you, we became whole.”

You shivered. “Does that mean- I’m still important to you so you’re not going to kill me?” Maybe if they killed you, the sigil would no longer work.

Tamson’s brows drew together, but he smiled. “Yes. I think that’s a good way to put it.”

Okay. That was… good, right? Terrifying, but good. You were going to live, and the longer you lived, the more time you had to figure a way out of this. “Okay.”

“Good,” Molly said. She headed toward the door, tugging it open. “Then let’s get going. Lots to do.”

Tamson puts his hand on your back, pushing you relentlessly forward. You dug your heels in, stumbling a little when he kept moving. “What? Where are we going?”

“There’s much to set up, I assure you. But currently, we’re going to collect the sigil,” Tamson said. He pressed both his hands to your back, practically shoving you in earnest while Molly doubled back to grab your arm and started pulling you down the hall. Your legs were barely moving at all, but they were dragging you along with little issue. Weren’t cursebreakers supposed to be sort of noodley? Did being possessed by an elder god give you weird strength?

By the time they got to the door, they were practically carrying you, supporting your weight at either shoulder. A couple people were doing… something on the sidewalk, sketching something out on the ground, and they smiled at you as you passed. A prickle shot up your spine and your arm pulsed again. You were getting real sick of that sensation.

“Are, uh. Are those…” you trailed off, casting your eyes deliberately at the people on the sidewalk.

“Part of us, yes,” Molly said.

You swallowed. “Is- is there anyone here who isn’t?”

Tamson laughed. “Looking for someone else to talk to?” His tone was light, but your stomach sank like a rock. That had been so stupid. Never let your captors know you’re looking for an exit plan, that’s like the first rule of being kidnapped. “There are others. Some people have more fortitude. Some bodies just aren’t needed right now. But you won’t be seeing many of them out and about.” He flicked a finger up toward the sky. “The storm, I’m afraid. Most people won’t venture out into such things,”

The sky rumbled ominously with his words. You shuddered. “It’s just a storm,” you said, trying to push forward. There was no hiding the tremble in your voice, though. Molly gave you a sympathetic look, leaning in like she was trying to comfort you.

“It is a storm, yes, but it’s also a manifestation of our power. Think of it like this- when we poured into this world, we moved to take bodies. But not all bodies could contain us. So a part of us possessed the storm. We’re in many places at once. And no mortal would wander out into a storm made of our power.”

“Except me,” you said. The thunderstorm didn’t register as anything unusual with you. Did other people really see it as so strange?

“Well, you are touched with our power,” Tamson said. “You’re hardly a mortal anymore.”

Your arm burned. Not painfully, but certainly enough to get your attention. You flinched. Both Molly and Tamson took that as an opportunity to secure their grip on you.

They pulled your toward the street and a car pulled up. You weren’t a car expert, but it looked fancy. Did elder gods care about that? Or were they trying to impress you specifically? Tamson and Molly shoved you inside, settling on either side of you. The backseat was tight, but both of them still seemed closer to you than necessary.

The car ride gave you time to think. You were not the only person in the city who wasn’t possessed, but anyone who was possessed was probably cowering in their houses. Further, you didn’t know how far this whole thing spread. If you could look at your phone without them seeing, you could get a better idea of how bad things were. People commuted into the city- there had to be some sort of awareness that something had gone wrong. Unless it had spread a lot further than you’d thought. If you could just check the news, you’d at least be able to get your bearings.

Molly leaned against your shoulder. She hadn’t let go of your arm since you’d gotten into the car. “Thinking hard?             You jumped. “Don’t look so worried,” Tamson sighed, directing your attention to him. “You’re as jumpy as a frightened kitten.”

“You really don’t believe we’re not going to hurt you, hm?” Molly sighed. She gave you the saddest set of doe-eyes you’d ever seen.

“I don’t have a lot of reasons to think you won’t,” you said.

“We already said we weren’t going to,” Tamson insisted.

“Yeah, well, you’ll forgive me for not thinking an interdimensional creature that possessed a bunch of people is going to tell the truth all the time,” you muttered. Molly and Tamson frowned, their expressions perfectly in sync once more.

“We’ve never lied,” Tamson said. “We’re not lying now.”

“You keep saying that. It doesn’t mean I’m going to trust you.”

“All things in good time, then,” Molly said. “You’ll see.”

The car pulled to a stop outside your work and Molly swung the door open. You boss smiled at you as he passed the sigil inside. Molly practically shoved it at you so it was sitting on your lap. As soon as it came in contact with you, your arm blazed with heat. Sweat started to bead on your brow. Tamson sighed, leaning against you. “There, you see? The power it contains and the power you contain… They’re quite closely linked now. One and the same.”

Without a conscious thought, you started tracing the lines of the sigil with your bad arm. The warmth pulsed as deep as your core, like something in your soul was stirring.

You were so entranced that you didn’t notice the car was moving until it stopped again. Molly tugged gently on your arm. “Come along, dear.”

You blinked. The car had parked outside of a church, one of the more ornate ones in the city with stained glass windows sending colored light onto the sidewalk. Tamson and Molly pulled you inside, with you still clinging to the sigil.

Inside, the church was surprisingly dark. Candles illuminated the stained glass, but most of the seats and the pulpit were shadowed. You tripped over the uneven flooring and Molly steadied you. “Watch your step.”

“I can’t watch anything,” you snapped back. “It’s pitch fucking black!”

“We’ll watch for you,” Tamson suggested. “If it was bright, it would spoil the surprise.”

“What surprise?” Neither of them answered, just giggled in unison. You ground your teeth.

Both of them hauled you up to the pulpit, then past it and into a tucked away little corner. It seemed to be designed as somewhere for the choir to stay, given the closets holding robes and the dinky electric piano tucked into a corner. Tamson hovered next to me while Molly took the sigil. “I apologizer for not taking you home right now, but churches are just such lovely places to coalesce energy.”

“What are you coalescing energy for?” you asked.

“For you,” Tamson said, simple as you please. You blinked. You’d been expecting a plan to take over the world/galaxy/universe, not… that.

“Sorry, for me?”

“Yes,” Molly said from where she was mounting the sigil on the wall. “Humans are so woefully deficient, after all.

“Defi- I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You made a halfhearted attempt and running away, but Tamson just grabbed you in what seemed to be a really enthusiastic hug. You felt rather squished against his chest.

“You don’t need to understand. We’re going to take care of everything,” he smiled. Molly’s smile, equally beatific, radiated across the room.

“I might not need to understand, but I’d like to,” you pushed, tentative. They didn’t seem keen on actually hurting you. Maybe if you nudged them, they would be more willing to explain.

Tamson’s expression shifted, almost like he was considering it. He traced a hand along your arm, touch feather-light. The warm and pulsing almost seemed to subside for a moment. You’d gotten so used to it that without it, your arm felt cold.

“Isn’t it usually the case that the paladin receives some of their patron’s power?” he asked, so quiet it was almost like he was musing to himself.

Your brain stuttered over the word. “The paladin?”

“There are other words for it,” Molly said. You startled. She’d practically appeared right in front of you. “Priest or priestess? Disciple? Chosen one? All similar concepts. One who serves and is served by us or our kin.”

“I’m not serving you,” you sputtered. Molly and Tamson shrugged in unison.

“You did. You opened the gateway, did you not?” Their voices were in sync again, a perfect chorus. You shuddered, but the only place to retreat back into was Tamson’s embrace.

“Not- not on purpose.”

“No? And yet, your magic jumped so eagerly to us. We felt it, dear paladin. Dear walker of Earth.” They were cooing at you, pressing up into your personal space. “We know you, dearest to us. Down to your heart. When your magic opened the gateway, the first thing we knew of this beautiful place was you. We reached through you and we knew you and we knew you would be ours.”

“I didn’t ask to be yours,” you said. Your voice was strangled. Your body was fighting itself. You should be leaning away from them, and there was some terrified, rational part of yourself that wanted you to do that, but there was another part that said to lean in. They were close to you, warm and sweet. Perhaps you’d just hadn’t been held in a long time, but your entire body yearned for the contact. They couldn’t be telling the truth, that they cared about you. But you wanted them to be.

“Maybe you didn’t ask with words,” Molly said. “But we know you and we know your longing.”

“For things to be different. Safer. A world where you never need to be afraid, or stressed, or in pain. You have brought us here, and we saw your heart and your pain and we adored you, because no one can ever see that deeply into another’s soul and not adore them. So we will protect you, now. Our dear paladin,” Tamson sighed.

“Together, we will bring this world into a new age,” they said, their voices unified again. No, not just their voices. You could hear, faintly, other voices saying the exact same thing. Like the entire city was speaking in unison.

“I-” you choked out. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were going into shock. Your companions (companion?) didn’t seem bothered. Tamson rocked back and forth in a slow, soothing motion. Molly brushed her fingers along your scalp and made comforting noises. You closed your eyes for a moment, sagging with the utter exhaustion of the day.

“It’s all right,” Molly said. “Let it all go.” Your arm was warm, still, and it still pulsed, but there was something pleasant about it. Like lying against someone’s chest and hearing their heartbeat. Like the warmth of a fire on a chilly night.

After some amount of time, Tamson shifted his weight, lifting you up a little. You moved to get away instinctively, and tumbled right into Molly. She made no effort to hold onto you, but you didn’t move that far away from her.

“We weren’t sure if you were feeling up to walking,” Tamson explained. “It’s time to go downstairs.”

“What’s downstairs?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” Molly said. She linked her arm with yours. “We’ll show you.”

You allowed yourself to be led, with one of them on either arm. You actually passed a few other people as you made your way to the basement. No one you recognized, though all of them broke into beaming smiles when they saw you. They also bowed at the waist, a reverence that you hadn’t been expecting.

The basement was down a set of stairs in the back of the church. Now, you’d been a church basement once before, due to being dragged there for some kind of event, and that time, it had resembled a sort of dingy little storage area. There were a couple different rooms, the paint was peeling, it smelled kind of musty. This was not the sort of church basement you were expecting.

The area was spacious, almost cavernous. It was so big, in fact, that it didn’t actually seem to fit under the church. Maybe it was an optical illusion, but the ceiling seemed too high.

The entire place was bathed in purple light, though there was no visible source. The area just seemed suffused in it. Smaller points of reddish light came from candles that were stationed all around the… room? It was hard to call it a room. The walls were undefined, fading into darkness. In the center of the room, there was a platform, with more candles clustered thickly around it. Molly and Tamson guided you toward it.

“Am I supposed to sit here?” you asked, eyeing the platform. There was a fancy, throne-like chair in the center. It looked iron-like, with an ornate designed along the back of it. The pattern looked a little familiar.

“Yes, of course.” Molly pushed you up closer to it and you paused. Yes, the back of the throne was familiar- it was made up of a lot of tiny little sigils, all intertwining with each other to create one, large pattern.

“How is this possible?” you asked, stretching your hand out to touch it, though you thought better of it before actually touching it.

“It’s remarkably easy to warp physical things within our realm of power,” Tamson said. “And when the sigils are fully formed, we can bring more power into the world and affect more.”

“It’s a wonderful system,” Molly sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. You shivered. “And you shall be part of it now.”

“I sit here and what, you give me your power?” Suspicion was starting to prickle over your skin again. It looked dangerously close to something that would suck your soul out or mind control you.

“We offer you some of our power, as our paladin.” Tamson put his hand on your lower back and gave you a little push toward the throne. You slid a cautious step closer. Tamson pushed a little harder. This time, you dug your heels in, feeling a bit like a stubborn child trying to avoid going to a doctor’s appointment or something. Tamson paused, with a questioning little, “hm?”

“What’s wrong?” Molly asked, her breath a inch from your ear. You froze. “It’s all right. The power is frightening, but we’ll be right here with you. We’ll help, adored one.”

“I don’t know. I can’t-” Your arm was overly warm, making sweat prickle along your body. Your breathing was quick and shallow.

“It’s all right,” Tamson said. “Are you frightened of us?”

You pressed your lips together and didn’t answer.

“Yes. It’s all right. We can show you that you don’t need to be,” Molly offered. She reached down and lifted your arm, the one that was still warm. The heat was centered at your hand, radiating outward. Her fingers felt cool against your skin. “Here.”

You glanced down at what she was indicating. The red part of your palm had spread. It no longer looked like a small burn mark or spot. It looked like a pattern, the red mark splitting into multiple red lines that created an ornate picture. Something you recognized.

The sigil had appeared on your skin.

You trembled. It wasn’t complete yet, but you could see the red spreading, bit by bit. It would be complete soon.

Molly smiled. “You see our connection,” she murmured. “The mark of our favor on your skin.”

“It’s not done yet,” you said. You couldn’t keep the shake out of your voice. “What happens when it’s…”

“We can show you,” Molly said. She pressed a finger to the center of the sigil and something at the back of your mind unfurled.

It was like you had been curled in a tiny ball for your entire life and just now you were getting the chance to stand up and stretch your limbs. There was pain, almost like your brain was splitting open, but it was relieving as well. You could feel your body shuddering, but your body wasn’t important. Why would something as constrained as a body be important? You could see and feel the entire building, like you were surrounding it with your mind.

Something else touched your mind, gentle as a nudge. It was difficult to describe what your senses were doing, but the best description was that you ‘turned’ to ‘look’ at what had nudged you.

It was them. You could ‘see’ them. They were ‘curled’ around the bodies of Tamson and Molly, and you could ‘see’ other parts of them extending into the other bodies in the city and stretching up into the sky. They were bigger than you, much, much bigger, even in your expanded form. They ‘nudged’ you again, affectionate and warm. Each touch gave you a str age sense of what they were feeling, like their feelings were akin to body warmth. Their love pressed against you with every ‘touch.’ You reached out to them, following their ‘motions’ and trying to reclaim the adoration they were giving off. It was so much and so overwhelming and so good. You had never felt as genuinely cared for- their mind gave off pure gratitude and love for your entire being, for your humanity, for your soul.

With a near-painful abruptness, you were back in your own body. Your face was wet. Tears, yes, but also sweat and drool. Molly and Tamson were cooing at you, holding you in both their arms. Your body was sore, and not pleasantly so. You felt like you’d been sprinting for miles and been hit by a truck.

“What was that?” you groaned.

“Us,” Tamson said. “You, as well, though mortals are poorly suited for such a strenuous experience. You could only endure it due to our influence.”

You groaned again and made an attempt to get up. Molly and Tamson lifted their arms in time to catch you as you fell. Tamson allowed you to lean against him until your breathing stabilized again.

“Do you see now?” Molly asked. “The depth of our affection for you? How we adore you?”

You shuddered. Yes. You could feel it in your chest. The certainty of it. Tamson stroked your head and you leaned against him with a shuddering sigh.

“Come now,” Molly said. You whined as she tried to pull you upward. “I know you are tired, but you need our power.”

Tamson joined in on the tugging at you. “Just a modicum of our power and you’ll feel better. We promise.” With both their coaxing, you were dragged to your feet and hauled over to the throne. You were pretty boneless at first, but you were soon moving with them, reaching for the throne.

They carefully placed you on the seat and you sagged into it. The chair was not comfortable, but it made your arm steadily heat up. Your skin tingled.

There was a sensation like being watched. Like hundreds of eyes falling on you. No being watched in an oppressive fashion, either, but like reverence. Molly and Tamson knelt at either side of the throne, their hands on yours, drinking in the sight of you.

And then- it wasn’t like before, like your body had split open and sent the inner essence of you billowing up. It was more like there was a crack in your back and some of your essence had instead, slipped out, curling and billowing outward. You were still within your body, but you could extend more of yourself outward.

You fumbled, trying to acclimate yourself to new senses. Power surged through you and, fumbling, you scrabbled against the edges of reality, trying to orient yourself, and nearly tore it.

Their presence curled around you, lifting you up and away from the edge and balancing you next to them. There, now, my dearest. None of that. I am here with you now. Their ‘voice’ was warm, kindly, and almost… awestruck.

Dimly, back in your body, you were aware of the city folk bowing their heads in your direction, whispers of prayers and praises on their lips. All echoes of what this being felt for you. But you could only stretch your mind out toward them, and shudder in joy and relief when they stretched back and suffused you with adoration.

Come, adored one. We have much to do now. A city is only a fraction of what we can do, and you deserve continents upon continents of love.

You were a bad cursebreaker. Maybe you could be a good god.