#another nightmare for a DM

[rollforimagination]

Pet Idea

The Sniler

Description: a Tiny common-looking mouse, except for its pitch black tail and its especially long whiskers.

Functionality: The Sniler can teleport inside small spaces, like pockets, small bags, empty sheaths, loose socks, etc., that are of property of its owner. The Sniler mostly sleeps and eat, but when it’s awake it can do two things by emitting a squeak:

Outside of an encounter: The Sniler squeaks and the owner has advantage on all Nature and Animal Handling checks.

In an encounter: The Sniler squeaks and a d4 is rolled.

The owner of The Sniler gets teleported in a 15ft radius from their starting point of their choosing.

The Sniler grows in size and becomes a Medium Sized. It uses the Giant Rat sheet with the added Action of Teleport (see Blink Dog). Reaching 0 hp makes The Sniler return to its normal form and teleport to an empty pocket of its owner.

The Sniler squeak sounds like a monstrous roar, making any enemy creature in a 30 ft radius frightened of its owner. This effect lasts 1d6 round(s).

The owner of The Sniler turns one size smaller, along with its equipment, and their speed raises by 15ft.

To trigger a squeak the owner needs to feed The Sniler with an 5cm cube of cheese that was previously soaked in beer. The Sniler will engulf the cheese in one bite and proceed to squeak, it’s completely possible that the squeak is actually just a burp.

The Sniler will take only 3 cubes of its delicious cheese before sleeping or refusing any more, accepting it back only after a long rest (of the Sniler).

If the Sniler isn’t offered a cube of special cheese in 3 days it will squeak only outside of battle, hiding from its owner in battle, if it’s not fed a cube of special cheese in 6 days it will disappear with any cheese and beer the party has in a 10ft radius from the owner after a long rest.

Even if the cheese and beer are inside a Bag of Holding.

Feed the Sniler.

Inspiration: The Sniler @todaysbird

The Sniler

[phoebepheebsphibs]

The Cause and The Effect

@boots-with-the-fur-club @tmntaucompetition

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Leo found he couldn't stop smiling.

Mikey was running around, fun and fancy free, all about the halls as they traipsed through looking for Donnie -- or rather, AudreyTello.

Last LeonAudro knew or could remember from his universe (before he'd been re-spored and transported here), tensions with mutants were still high thanks to the TCRI and Mikey wasn't yet cleared to leave the lair, not even in disguise. He would have gone stir crazy if it hadn't been for Draxum and the Hidden City, or Leo's portals. But there was very little to match the feeling of being allowed to run untethered and unafraid. Part of Leo didn't want Mikey to ever leave this place, the sanctuary it offered, the freedom and the peace and the strange familiarity of it all. But he knew that this wasn't home, and in the end that was what he and Mikey needed more than anything. Home. Family. Peace.

And so Leo had decided to keep Mikey as entertained as possible. Much to the annoyance of Luke.

"I don't know if he should be running around a lot," Luke grunted. "What if he gets lost again?"

"He won't!" Leo rebutted, pasting his classic smirk on to prove his confidence in Mikey. "Besides, Michael's got our scents locked in. If he gets too far, he can --"

"There are literally hundreds of you here," Luke growled.

"But how many Leos that smell like fungus?" Leo challenged, his grin only growing. "And how many Leatherheads, or Mama Bears? Hmmmm?"

Luke paused, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a comeback. In the end, he grit his teeth and pushed past him.

"I still think it's a bad idea."

Leo chuckled at his small victory. He knew ragging on the croc was not the best way to make friends, but he couldn't help it if he was too cool for him. Leo ran past the grumpy Yokai to catch up to his brother, who was already zooming back their way.

"Hey, Mike!" Leo called out. "C'mere, I got an idea for a game we can play!"

Luke grunted as he rolled his eyes. Julia stepped in closer and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"He's gettin' on my nerves is all," Luke sighed. "I don't know if I can trust him. He's still connected to the hive. What if he's secretly working against us? Or what if Audrey III is using him to unwittingly spy on us?"

Julia paused, tutting softly as she thought it over.

"...We should try to give him the benefit of the doubt. For Mikey's sake?"

Luke nodded.

"Okay, fine... but he gets three strikes. Three. I think, considering everything that we've been through, that's fair."

Julia sighed. She couldn't control Luke or his temper, and she could understand his hesitance to trust the NFIF AU.

"If you think that's best..." Julia relented. "But remember, people aren't always what they appear to be. I know you know that, and I hope you remember that applies to them as well."

Luke's expression softened.

"I know. And I get it for Mikey. He didn't choose what happened to him."

"Neither did Leo," Julia reminded.

Luke's mouth tightened.

"...I'll try to be patient with him."

"That's all I ask," Julia smiled.

Luke smiled back before rushing away to catch up to the feral teens who had somehow gotten away from him and Julia.

"Hey, guys!" Luke called out, scanning the many intersecting hallways. "Where'd you go--"

Luke felt something hard and heavy spontaneously crash into his chest, sending him flat onto the ground and knocking the wind out of his lungs. He gasped on the floor, looking up in shock to see DM Mikey's giddy and silly face, tongue half-hanging out the side of his mouth as his tail wagged. Leo revealed himself from behind a corner, laughing so hard he started coughing and choking.

"Oh-ho, man!" he cackled, doubling over and wiping a tear from his face. "Nice going, Mikey! And you should have seen your face, Swampy! You looked like this, like 'blaaah! aaah what is happening, raaah!' Y'know? Mikey loves doing that to me and the guys back home... Oh man, Priceless!!"

Luke grumbled as he sat up, glaring at LeonAudro.

"...Strike one."

"Strike-huh? Whadjya say?" Leo asked, face still red from laughing himself silly.

"That was strike one."

"Strike one? What, I have a strike count now?" To Leatherhead's astonishment, LeonAudro seemed more curious than concerned. "What happens when I get to strike three?"

"You don't wanna know," he growled, hoping that would convey the seriousness.

"Yeeeaaaaah but I kinda do, that's why I asked--"

"I said you don't wanna know."

"But what if I--"

"You don't. Wanna. Know. Dude."

"Can't you tell me?" Leo asked, almost begging as pressed his hands together.

"I'll tell you when you get to strike three," Luke warned with a growl.

"Okay great awesome thanks!" Leo said with a smile before grabbing his younger brother off of the croc's chest. "MIKEY HELP ME OUT WE GOTTA GET TO STRIKE THREE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE!! WE'RE SPEEDRUNNING THE CONSEQUENCES OF OUR ACTIONS!"

The two ran off again, leaving Luke sprawled on the floor with a grimace.

"...I think I kind of hate that guy."

. . .

LeonAudro tugged DM Mikey along the path, trying to find another good way to keep Mikey entertained. Mikey had opted to try and run on two legs rather than four, but this was still a challenge at times and could impede his speed. Thus, Leo was tugging Mikey along and not the other way around.

Leo saw a stall offering snacks and beverages, and brought it to his brother's attention.

"Hey Mike, ya hungry?"

Mikey nodded enthusiastically, stumbling a few of the steps as Leo guided him to the stall.

"You don't have to walk on the two legs if it's bothering you, bud," Leo said.

"I-I knnnnnow, b-but it l-looks weird," Mikey mumbled. "I get sssss-tares."

"Don't mind them, they just think you're super cool and they're embarrassed that they can't match your level."

Mikey laughed and gave Leo a side hug.

"Thanks."

"No problem. So, whatchya wanna nosh? I think they have shish-kabobs here!"

As Mikey perused the options, Leo ordered a can of soda. The mod operating the stall handed the cold can of carbonation over to him with a nervous smile.

"Careful though, it might be a bit shaken."

Leo nodded, content to wait patiently as his soda calmed itself down. But then he saw Luke barreling their way. And he got an awful idea. Leo started shaking the can as hard as he could behind his back.

"Heeyyyy, if it isn't Lyle Lyle Crocodile!" LeonAudro joked, a grin on his face as he greeted the steamed Leatherhead.

"You guys gotta stop running off like that," Luke growled. "You keep leaving me and my mom behind!"

"Oh, relax!" Leo crooned. "We're just having some fun, don't worry! Geez, you look hot-headed. Why not cool down? Here, you can take my soda, I'll get another one."

Luke raised an eyebrow as he took the can.

"Awfully generous of you-- BLRBGLGLBRB!"

Luke was practically waterboarded by the spray of soda. He dropped the can and stepped back, spluttering and coughing as he came to the realization what had just happened. He blinked, and saw Leo cackling madly, with Mikey snickering in the background. Luke scowled as the soda dripped down his face and chest, soaking the few garments he wore.

"That's strike two."

"Oh come on!" Leo laughed. "That shouldn't count! It was just a prank! It's half a strike, at best."

"I thought you wanted to get to strike three?" Luke questioned.

"Yeah, but I gotta earn it!" Leo smirked. "That wasn't even my half-best work."

"I don't know how Mikey can stand being around you," Luke grumbled, shaking some of the sticky soda that was dripping down his arms.

Leo lurched back at that statement, his perfectly crafted smirk stayed in tact, save for a small crack in the mask and a twitch in the eye and smile.

"Yeah, I know right? His standards have lowered exponentially!" LeonAudro laughed.

Luke raised a suspicious eyebrow, but didn't push the matter when Mikey came trotting along, three grilled kabobs in his mouth. He grinned at the duo, grilled steak and barbecued veggies in his smile.

"I'll go get us some drinks. Luke, want anything?" Leo asked.

Leatherhead blinked at the suggestion, then shrugged.

"I'll just take some water and a ton of napkins."

"You got it. Mikey, you want anything?"

"Owamge Soba, pweash," Mikey answered, kabobs muffling his speech.

"Okay, one orange soda and one water with a truckload of napkins. And I'm gonna get a new soda."

Leo stepped away for a moment before returning with the requested items, handing the soda to Mikey and the water with napkins to Luke.

"Thanks," Luke said, already wiping his face off. "What brand of soda did you get?"

"Oh, this?" Leo asked, holding the can up for Leatherhead to see. "It's my favourite flavour of soda, it --"

Leo was stopped mid-sentence when Luke, with a completely straight face, took the can, shook it vigorously, pointed it at the stunned turtle, and cracked it open. Leo was instantly drenched by the spray. He shouted his protests, little good it did, and stumbled backwards. Soon enough the can was emptied, and Leo stared wide-eyed at Luke, who finally smiled smugly and simply replied "Payback."

Leo turned and glanced at Mikey, who was desperately trying to hold in his snickers. LeonAudro smiled, giggles filtering in slowly.

"Okay, okay. I totally deserved that. So, we're even? Can we say no strike two?"

"Half a strike," Leatherhead conceded.

"Cool. I'll go get some more napkins," Leo nodded.

. . .

A phantom rolled through the arenas, unseen by the majority of the contenders. A cloud of mists trailed after him as he followed the butterfly mod. His violet caped flowed as he stepped with haste and determination. Something about his demeanor set the halls with a sense of dread, cold and calculating.

He had been searching for someone. Still searching, only now it seemed he was finally getting somewhere. This person he was looking for, a lost soul. Someone who would undoubtably have no idea what to do without his brilliant brother. He had to find him quickly, before he got himself into trouble. Fortunately for the phantom, this Mod had approached him with the offer to help find lost items or people.

"You're certain you can locate him?" the phantom asked, his voice low so as not to draw attention to himself.

He may have blended in with the shadows, but his presence was sensed nonetheless. Almost like that of a dream in passing, a memory you were trying to forget. A fear you did not want to confront.

"Don't worry!" the butterfly cooed brightly. "We'll find the one you're looking for."

"Good," the phantom smiled. "Because I am running low on time."

. . .

DM Mikey was getting fidgety. Leo noticed it, so did Julia and Leatherhead. Michelangelo was a rambunctious teen to begin with, bursting with energy and excitement, his ADHD running him wild. But now, his ADHD mixed with his animalistic mutations and instincts to roam free and be a bit feral; and he wasn't just run wild, it ran him ragged. Mikey needed to move around so much more, his creature features causing his metabolism to spiral. The teen could usually find ways to occupy himself (especially with Dee's special home jungle-gym), but it was getting tough to find ways to keep entertained in these never-ending backdoor-looking arenas. Leo knew he had to do something, poor Mikey was starting to unravel from jitterbugs and boredom.

And Leo knew he had to make up for lost time.

LeonAudro glanced back at Leatherhead and Julia, who were whispering amongst themselves. Probably about Leo's antics. Oh well, they could deal with one more antic, right?

"Hey, Mikey," Leo said in a hush-hush tone. "Wanna play a game?"

Mikey looked up at Leo, his eyes wide as he nodded.

"What game, Blue?"

"Wanna race?"

Mikey nodded again, his scarred and torn lips curling into a sunshine-bright smile.

"But w-w-what ab-bout Luke a-an' Big Mama -- Mama Julia -- Bear Mom?" Mikey stuttered.

"They can play too, don't worry!" Leo stated. "Ready?"

Mikey immediately got into a ready stance, hind legs reared and spine stretched out like a cat about to chase after his prey.

"Okay, ready?" Leo whispered, before looking back at the others. "HeyGuysWe'reGonnaDoARaceBetterGetReady!"

"Wait, what?!" Luke yelled back, distracted by his conversation with his mother. "Hang on--!"

"OneTwoThreeGo!"

Mikey sped off like a shot, vanishing almost instantly as he bounded away. Leo ran after him as fast as possible, though he knew he would never catch up to him. He was tempted to use his ninpo, but for whatever reason the power that kept him tethered to the spores kept his teleportation skills at a minimum. Luke and Julia screamed after them to hold on, wait a minute! But Leo didn't seem to care. So long as Mikey had a good time.

Leo ran as fast as possible, yelling back with a laugh "Try to keep up! Don't wanna get left behind!"

He didn't see the look of disgusted horror on Luke's face as Leo turned the corner and vanished. It took Leo something around 10 minutes to catch up with Mikey again, and that was only because Mikey realized he'd gone too far and turned back to find him. The feral fungus lads wandered the grounds, exploring the various compounds and stalls.

LeonAudro had found a door leading to an outdoor station, where old fashioned stalls made up to look like something from a fantasy novel were set around cobblestone pathways, a few carnival games, and grassy hills. Mikey had the absolute time of his life meeting new people and playing the fun games. They had all but forgotten about the MBU clan as the bros enjoyed their time together; and by sunset they were sitting on a bench, Mikey humming softly as they watched the sky change tones.

"That was fun, right?" Leo smiled.

"Y-y-yessss," Mikey crowed. "Fun day. Thank you, Leo."

"Anytime, bud."

The two sat in silence, the heavens turning red and purple slowly.

"...H-hey, Lllleo?"

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"Where are Red and Purple?"

Leo's breath caught in his lungs, and he thought he was about to have a heart attack. He'd been waiting for this question, and the fact that Mikey used their colours rather than their names was a bad sign. Same with his stutter -- those factors only came into play when he was nervous or stressed, or dealing with issues from the mutations. He was more likely to forget how to walk upright, or what he'd done that day, or how to say certain words if he was struggling. It was a reeeeaaally bad sign if he forgot his brothers' names. LeonAudro felt something rising in his chest, a cold anxiety that made his head light and his stomach flip. Blue tints filled the edges of his vision. He blinked it away, breathing deeply as he sought for the right words.

"...I'm not sure where they are right now. Do you know their names, though?"

Mikey paused, lifting his head to look at Leo's face.

"...D-D-Donnieeee... An' Rrrrraph," he purred. "I-I remember."

"Just making sure."

Mikey kept his eyes on Leo.

"Leo? Can I ask you ssssomething?"

"Anything, dude."

Michelangelo reached up, his claws gently coming to Leo's eyes but not quite reaching them.

"Wwwwhat happened to your eyes?"

The big brother's gaze diverted away from his curious and concerned little brother.

"It's... a long story. I had wondered if you remembered what happened... Mike, do you recall a mission with mushrooms?"

Mikey leaned in close.

"You mean... l-l-like... drugs?"

Leo almost doubled over laughing.

"No! No no no, not at all!" he cackled. "It wasn't like that, it was just an evil giant mushroom with a glowing eye, and when we breathed in the spores it made us see these terrifying hallucinations..."

"That sounds just like dr-drugs, Leo," Mikey insisted.

Leo laughed again.

"I swear it wasn't! Anyway, to make a long story short, I got infected by the mushroom and it... made me do a lot of bad things. Things I regret. And this is kind of a... calling card."

Mikey stared at him, studying every aspect of his face and eyes.

"Leo... was like Mikey?"

"Huh?"

"Prisoner," he explained softly. "Withhhh a voice in Leo's head that made y-you do bad things. Like Instinct."

Leo slouched, his usually over-confident facade fading away as he took Mikey's hand and nodded silently.

"Can Mikey help?"

Leo shook his head.

"That's not your job, bud. I'm getting better, I swear."

Mikey rested against his chest, a gentle hug made mostly so they could feel each other's heartbeats.

"Please remember I love you, if nothing else."

Leo pulled Mikey closer, recalling those words from a long time ago.

"I will."

The stars began to twinkle in the skies above, constellations that neither had ever seen before. Just as Leo was about to suggest heading inside, a gruff and furious voice called out to them.

"WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Leo's neck was struck with whiplash from how fast his head swiveled. Leatherhead was storming over, smoke practically pouring from his ears. Julia was close behind him, her expression hard and stern but not quite so frightening as Luke's.

"Oh, hey guys!" Leo waved. "Glad you finally caught up."

"Don't EVEN start with me!" Luke shouted. "How could you just run off like that?! We were supposed to stick together! Why did you leave us? And not tell us where you were going?!"

"It was just a game, dude," Leo snapped back. "Chill out."

"We had no idea where you were!!" Luke screamed, startling Mikey. "We were worried sick!"

"Hey, calm down!" Leo yelled, grabbing Luke by the wrist. "It was just a game --"

Luke wrenched his hand back, snarling in fury.

"That's strike three," he growled, voice deep and dark.

Leo gaped at him.

"Wait, for real? You're striking me because I took Mikey --"

"Do you even CARE about what's going on?!" Leatherhead shouted. "Do you even think?! Or do you only just play around like nothing matters?? While you've been goofing off and causing trouble, we've been trying to find a way to keep YOUR brother safe! Or did you forget that?!"

"Hey, don't get all grouchy with me because you can't handle a few funny pranks and jokes!"

"The only joke here is YOU," Luke rebuked. "You don't care at all about your brother, do you?"

Mikey growled at Luke, his tail swinging in between the two and encompassing Leo, who looked stunned. Luke's eyes widened and his face went pale at Mikey's reaction. LeonAudro looked back at Julia, hoping she'd mediate somehow. Julia simply had her arms crossed as she shook her head.

"I'm not mad," she sighed. "Just disappointed."

Leo's mask fell. Not the fake one with a carved smile that he'd discarded some time ago, but the one he'd been wearing ever since he was made leader. The mask that hid his true fears and insecurities. Blue began to fill his eyes up again, his head felt light and his hands trembled.

"I... I didn't mean..."

"Let's just go," Luke growled, "let's find a place to stay tonight. Because after today, I'm done with you."

. . .

Julia opened the door to the room and gingerly stepped inside. Leo had mentioned that last year, after a whole spore-zombie invasion (he looked quite queasy and pale mentioning that) he and another few AU competitors had gathered for a post-victory turtle-pile slumber party. It was like a fancy hotel room, nice and clean and magically sized to house everyone needed. There was even a basket of knitting needles for her on the table.

The three AUs walked inside, tensions high and animosity still brewing under the surface. Everyone felt on edge. Julia stayed in the doorway as the three teens stormed into the room, each one taking separate corners of the living space to sulk in. The Mama Bear took in a deep and rumbling breath before addressing the trio.

"Alright, I've had enough of this," she stated. "You three are going to have a talk and work things out. Right now."

LeonAudro gawked at her, his mouth open as if to ask her what on earth she was thinking. But one 'Mom Glare' in his direction, and Leo had elected to keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'm going out to get some supplies. When I come back, I expect you to have patched things up or come to an agreement. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," their voices echoed.

Julia nodded sternly before stepping out, leaving the room in utterly uncomfortable silence.

LeonAudro sighed deeply, and turned to Mikey, who looked terrified. Leo signed for him to 'give us some space'. Mikey's shoulders bunched nervously as he scurried into the other room. Leo waited a full fifteen minutes after he heard the bedroom door close to approach Luke.

"Heyyyy, uh.... wassup."

Was that seriously the best he could do?

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Um, I just wanted to say... I-I'm sorry for everything I did, and..."

LeonAudro stepped around the couch to face Leatherhead, and saw red rimmed eyes and a completely tear-stained face.

"Dude," Leo said, eyes going big as saucers. "Are you okay."

Luke grimaced.

"Do you actually care?"

Leo sighed as he sat down on the arm of the couch.

"I do care. I guess I just have a funny way of showing it. And I really am sorry, I wasn't intentionally trying to bug you."

"What about the soda can?"

"Okay, maybe that time. But that was just for laughs, I swear. I'm not trying to make enemies." Leo huffed. "Let's be real, it's not like I have to try to make enemies. It just happens. I'm great like that."

Luke wrung his hands and sighed.

"Fine. And I guess I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to make Mikey so upset... I just really care a lot about him, y'know? He... he reminds me of my Mikey. And he reminds me of myself. I had a tough time growing up and... I just want him safe." Luke looked up at him, voice dripping with anger. "And I don't know how safe he is with you."

Leo felt the colour drain from his face.

"I-- I know I made a lot of mistakes, I got the three strikes, but I'll make it up to you! I'll -- look, here, you can hit me! I'll let you punch me in the face top make up for what happened. You can hit me twice!"

Luke's countenance fell, a disgusted look of horror on his face.

"Or... maybe not? I'm guessing not? How do you feel about community service?"

"I don't want to hit you," Luke hissed. "Why would you think that?"

Leo swallowed.

"I... I figured it would make us even. For everything. I thought you would have wanted..."

"No," Luke explained calmly. "I don't. If I made you think that... I'm not that kind of person. I've spent my whole life trying to fight the allegations that I'm only a 'beast', or a 'monster'. People look at me and assume all I want is to fight, to claw my way to whatever I want. I just want my family safe and happy."

Leo tried not to look as small as he felt.

"I only want that too... and I'm sorry about the three strikes."

Luke rolled his eyes.

"Just... don't make it to four, okay?"

Leo looked up with hope, a faint smile on his face.

"So... does that mean we're cool?"

Luke nodded.

"Up to you. But for now... yes. We're cool."

. . .

Julia had gone out to procure some snacks for her boys and a few more balls of yarn for her knitting. She'd not realized how long she'd been until she returned to a dark room, with everyone asleep. Luke was passed out on the couch, and the only light in the area was a soft neon blue glow coming from one of the bedrooms...

The colour made her stomach flip. She knew that blue glow, she'd recognized it. It haunted her, even now. She would wake up late in the nights, convinced she'd heard one of her kids screaming or that there were vines crawling across her floors, walls, and ceilings. She did her best to confront these fears and recurring nightmares, but some things lingered even still.

The fact that there was no screaming or crying was a good sign. She glanced towards the couch to inspect Luke. His head was rolled back and mouth wide open as he snored. Julia grabbed a small throw blanket folded in the closet and spread it over him, inadvertently waking him.

"Sorry, love," she whispered. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," he mumbled, stretching softly. "I should move to an actual bed anyway."

"Did you talk to Leo?" Julia asked, accompanying him to his own private room.

"Yeah," he whispered. "We talked..."

Julia and Luke discussed the conversation the two had before they'd each gone to bed. She listened carefully, taking note of some subjects she felt were important to focus on when she talked with him herself. Julia wished Luke goodnight before closing his bedroom door and turning her attention to the ominous blue glow. She inhaled deeply and covered her nose (a self-preservation habit she'd taken from the last time she encountered the spores), then slowly approached the source.

In the other room, on the bed, a nest of vines had grown around two slumbering figures. The vines were the source of the glow, with no signs of any spore clouds or fungus beyond that. Julia exhaled deeply, somewhat relieved. But the vines only confirmed her hidden fear. Leo was still connected to the hive mind, to Audrey III.

She stepped closer, looking the duo up and down with concern. LeonAudro slept in the center of the nest, cradling DM Mikey close to his chest. Mikey was curled up tight, knees against his chest and hands clutching onto Leo as he dreamt. The two were inseparable. Not from the vines, but by choice. Which was a consolation to Julia.

She may or may not have been worrying in the back of her mind about LeonAudro. She knew he was DM Mikey's brother, but he was also under the control of a homicidal mushroom. He'd tried to kill her just a few months ago. Her and a lot of other people. Julia was not the type to hold a grudge, but she understood that sometimes danger lingers. People are always capable of change, but that doesn't always mean they will. Take Draxum, for example. Many of her kids were the result of Baron Draxum and his cruelty. While some lived in universes where he had been redeemed and reformed, others lived in dimensions where he was incapable of such feats and had remained a cruel and manipulative villain his whole existence.

What Julia needed to decide was if LeonAudro could be trusted.

She stared down at the two teens, sleeping with the utmost peace in each other's embrace.

This boy, this Leo...

He wasn't a villain. He wasn't a bad kid. He'd been under someone else's control, no choice in the matter. He had been sleepwalking. Just like Mikey that first night in the daycare. It was not his fault, and she couldn't continue to hold him accountable for that.

She pulled a blanket out and spread it over the two kids, gently tucking it here and there before turning around to leave.

"...Are you going to make me leave...?"

Julia paused, glancing over her shoulder to LeonAudro as he spoke, his eyes glowing bright in the darkness.

"No, cub," she whispered back. "I'm not going to make you leave."

Leo gripped DM Mikey just a bit tighter, pulling him close to his chest and resting his chin against the top of his head.

"...Why not?"

Julia was taken aback by the question.

"Because I would never do that to you," she answered sweetly, tiptoeing back to rub his head. "Or to Mikey. You two need each other, I see it."

Leo's forehead scrunched, his eyes looking away. He was gently rubbing Mikey's spiked and shattered shell, hidden under the soft but tearing fabric from Julia's hand-knit sweater.

"Luke told me you asked him to hit you," Julia mentioned, sitting herself down on the bed. She noticed Leo flinch at the mention.

"I thought..." Leo shifted, hugging Mikey while making him more comfortable. The mutated boxshell boy hummed in his sleep as Leo adjusted him, trying to avoid Julia's inquiry. "I thought it would make us even. I didn't know it was a trigger for him... he's a big dude, and I figured -- I mean, with all the stupid stuff I did today -- I figured he'd leap at the chance to pummel me."

Leo hid his face behind Mikey's.

"Anybody would."

Julia cooed sadly, reaching forward and stroking what she could see of LeonAudro's head.

"Ohhh, cub! No, no no no..."

"All I do is cause problems and hurt people and--"

"Leo, that isn't true--"

"But I do, I know I do," Leo mumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper and deeper into the nest of vines and Mikey's sweater. "After everything I did, all the trouble and pain and fear I caused... All I do is cause pain. Any time something bad happens, it's because of me. I'm always there. Donnie always talked about catalysts, cause and effect. I'm the cause, I'm the curse. It's always my fault. I destroyed the future, I caused the apocalypse, I gave strength to Audrey III during the competition, it was always because of me --"

"That wasn't you."

Leo looked up, eyes wet with tears as he stared at the Mama Bear.

"B-but --"

"It was not you, my dear cub," she repeated. "You are right about cause and effect, but you have it backwards. Those things happened, but not by your hand intentionally. You weren't the cause, so much as the effect. How do I explain... Bad things happen everyday. But good things come to counterattack, and bring light to the dark. You were there because you were the good counteracting the bad!"

Leo stared at her, not entirely sure he believed her.

"You didn't start your world's invasion, you fought against it with every breath you had. You didn't purposefully let the spores loose, and you didn't choose to have Audrey III capture you or your family. You can't hold yourself responsible for something you had no control over. The day I first met your brother and Chaplin attacked us, Mikey was sleepwalking and Chaplin made him do things he never would do otherwise --" Julia raised her arm to show LeonAudro her injury, "-- do you think that was Mikey's fault?"

Leo shook his head.

"Then how are you any different? I know you didn't want to do any of the things Aufrey III made you do. And so I can easily forgive you for that."

"But today -- I was just a burden to you -- Luke was right, I goofed off and didn't contribute to the mission at all..."

"But you did," Julia insisted. "You were there for Mikey. He needed you, and you took care of him. I saw you, and you cared for him as only a brother can. You're a good kid, Leo."

Leo's eyes ran with bright blue tears. They streaked down his cheeks and left stains on his mask. He wiped his face, trying to hide his emotions as best he could. Julia hummed sweetly, pasuing to see if he would want any affection. Leo eventually looked up from his cry-fest, realizing that she was waiting for him.

"Th-thank you," he whispered.

Julia nodded with a smile, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"Of course, cub--"

She touched him. All it took was a touch. And she saw it all. Hallucinations that filled the entire room, converting it into a scene -- a memory. A dark room with half-dead people bound by vines and roots, the centerpiece held a blue-clad ninja turtle that was being eaten alive by an enormous mushroom. The air was visible, muddled and murked by blue mists and fog, the stench of fungus.

Julia pulled away quickly. The world was put to rights. Leo was still laying there, still cradling a peacefully sleeping Mikey. It seemed neither boy understood what had just happened. Julia barely knew what had happened.

She reached out and touched him again.

She was in a laboratory with a godless man trying to drag Leo away by his legs as his brothers watched and screamed. When Leo fought back, he was hit with an electrifying device that sparks burning his shell and skin just a few feet from where Mikey was caged, tears flooding down his terrified face.

Julia released Leo. The room was still and quiet once more. Leo glanced at her, unsure of what she was doing. She wasn't sure either. But she had discovered one thing: Leo could still use his fear powers.

He suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide as his pupils flashed pure white. DM Mikey groaned in his sleep, trying to reach for his brother when he couldn't feel him anymore. But LeonAudro sat stock still, chest rising and falling frantically as he hyperventilated.

"Leo?" Julia whispered cautiously, wondering if he'd seen what he'd unintentionally made her see. "What is it, what --"

"Something's about to happen...!"

. . .

Baudrey hummed as he lead the way through the halls. It was always difficult to tell what time it was in here, since time technically didn't exist in this realm. There was a sun and a moon and a sky, but that was more so for decoration than anything. People from all sorts of timelines and years congregated here, and while months could go by, they wouldn't age a day and no time would have passed in their homeworld. All that to say, clocks were useless. But he could assume that it was late in the evenings based on how few people were still trotting about, and from how quiet it had gotten. Not that Baudrey needed sleep anymore.

"Hurry along now," he said, his voice sing-songy as he directed Chaplin to the daycare. "Wouldn't want to be late."

"I don't see why we're attacking again," Chaplin grumbled, his face alternating between shades of pale caucasian and purple. "It didn't fare well the first time around."

"Ah, but as a scientist you must know that new variables can alter the experiment greatly!" Baudrey chuckled. "You have me now."

The villainous duo approached the daycare; the purple dome surrounding it shimmered upon their arrival as a warning.

"You know what to do," Baudrey crooned, stepping aside and gesturing at the door.

Chaplin stepped closer, frills on his neck revealing themselves as he took in a deep breath, then yelled. Sound waves reverberated, cracking the dome and causing it to slowly melt away. Some areas stayed in tact, but there were plenty of holes for the men to enter through. Baudrey pushed the door open with a dramatic flourish and stepped inside.

"Your turn," Chaplin sneered.

Baudrey waved his hands, and clouds of blue began infiltrating the sleepy daycare.

"That should help keep the snotty brats entertained," Baudrey smiled. "Meanwhile we have free reign to roam as we please."

"And if they aren't here?" Chaplin growled. "What then?"

"Oh don't worry, I have a man on the inside. Though he has been somewhat of a disappointment to me as of late... no matter. There are other ways to get what we want..."

Chaplin smirked as his body grew and deformed.

"Shall we?"

The two strolled along the halls as the children began to scream from their nightmares.

. . .

"What do you mean, something is about to happen?" Julia asked as she followed after Leo. "What's going to happen??"

"Something bad, I don't know," Leo gasped, hurriedly rushing around the room. "I-I got a feeling -- almost a glimpse -- Audrey III, they're planning something --"

"Planning what? How do you know...?" Julia froze. Leo turned to look at her, his face pale and expression sick, as if he might throw up.

"I... I don't know how to explain it, but... it's in my head... he's still in my head..."

Julia's eyes searched his. She knew that those infected by the spores had bright blue sclera, irises and pupils a lifeless white. Leo's eyes were only half-blue, his pupils dilating between the black and white.

"I-I promise I'm not going to hurt you!" Leo insisted, getting ahead of the conversation he knew was coming. "I swear on pizza supreme, on my life, on Mikey's life--! I won't hurt you! I'm not a bad guy, I promise!"

"I know," Julia said, trying to calm him down without touching him. "I know, don't worry. But... I don't understand?"

"Like I said, it's hard to explain," Leo answered, words fumbling out of his mouth faster than he could process as he paced anxiously. "I am and I am'nt. Am not, are not -- whatever. Audrey III doesn't control me anymore, but it still has like, a direct line to my brain. I'm kind of plugged in, and sometimes I get a signal -- A-and I just got a big one! A signal or command, or m-maybe even a message."

"What message?" Julia questioned nervously.

There was suddenly a knock at the door. The two heads snapped in unison, staring at the entrance. They exchanged a glance laced with reservations and nerves before Leo timidly went to the aperture and unlocked it. The door lazily swung open, revealing a phantom in a deep purple cloak.

"Finally, I found you," he whispered, lowering the hood and revealing a softshell turtle with a purple mask and bright blue eyes with white irises. "Hello, brother."

Prev | Next

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

[Finding out that your xkit is broke as fuck and half the shit you thought was fixed wasn't.]

[jrwiyuri]

ME ME ME ME ME ME

Answering this ask anyway!! Gonna talk about GL!Chsrlie because well.. in me!

Charlie Slimecicle characters have a tendency to casually drop trauma™️ when talking & never acknowledge it, and I think GL!Charlie is no exception! Wether it was on purpose or not, we can infer that Charlie’s pc came here as a child.

My own assumption is that Charlie was taken away from an unloving family & town who did not care for him. GL!Charlie mentions getting a bad grade in school & then being sent to hell as an example of a nightmare in the dream sequence of episode one. I believe that this is a (likely unconscious) memory similar to how GL!Charlie came to join GenerationLoss as a beloved cast member.

He was a child who was unloved & uncared for in his real life. He had bad grades, likely acted a little more immature for his age (airplane sounds to eat), and overall was a more problematic kid. This caused him to wander off, more so due to isolation rather than outright rebellion. He then was kidnapped by GL, and brought on as a member. I doubt anyone who joins is made a cast member immediately, and so I assume Charlie was at some point (AS A FUCKING CHILD) sent to christian hell in order to test his charisma.

The outcome of that horrifically traumatic experience that was likely wiped from his conscious & only remained in his subconscious (sadge) was that he now got to join the show! Yay!!!! 😁😁

Anyway yeah that’s my background lore on GL!Charlie.. I’m very normal about him

[ableism]

I know i’m functionally a gay DARE officer at this point but I do in fact feel some sort of way about Cocaine being back in vogue. Surely I sound like a square + narc and I’ll concede ok do whatever you want, nobody can materially stop another person from using drugs if they really want to 🤷🏻 I don’t really care that it’s hip to do party drugs, moreso I want to articulate a general level of caution and concern that I never see a sidecar of harm reduction and safe using practices along with the commonplace clips of people straight up snorting coke I’ve seen for “brat summer!!!1!!”

You 🫵 are not immune to ingesting fentanyl or any number of other additives. Do you think drugs at the gay club are different than the drugs people are taking under bridges and in gutters? I promise they’re not! So if you want to use drugs and continue being alive, do your part to be safe. Protecting yourself protects others and your community.

Do not accept drugs from strangers. Test your drugs with fentanyl test strips. Carry narcan and know how to administer it. Never use alone. Have an exit strategy if you’re using drugs in a public space. Know the contact information for your local harm reduction groups, overdose emergency hotline, and if you need/want it, addiction treatment orgs. This is all the bare minimum for community care if you intend to be out in the world using drugs. Mainly I encourage you all to be buzzkills if it means you don’t have to die of an accidental overdose. Overdose is the leading cause of death for Americans under 40. I have a whole lot of social workers in my network and however bad you think the synthetic opioid crisis is, it’s worse. The war stories I’ve heard from my people on the ground are… The shit of nightmares. Don’t let it be you or anybody you love.

If you live in the state of Georgia, DM me for a longer list of resources.

Fentanyl information (harm reduction.org)

Get Narcan

How to use fentanyl test strips

Call 311 to find out where to get Narcan in your community at no cost to you

[heatwa-ves]

there's been a few times where stuff was said

in the artbook vivmeng outright said that ivantill would of been end game if they were able to work through their feelings. they both have a complicated love-hate relationship so i guess that's where people get the thought that till just hates ivan completely. till has been drawn in many romantic settings with both mizi and ivan (an example is the small doodles vivimeng did at a recent con) both times he's freaking out due to being attracted to both of them lol.

a lot has been shown and said at times

hm good for him I guess!

[boyapologist]

I'm incredibly anxious

[im-still-a-robot]

INSANELY curious about what you mean by "if he dies the band becomes real" what does that mean that sounds so fucking cool

Oh lmao! Its for a backup character!

Our campaign is very much one where the threat of death is looming, so I have the bones of a character in the works in case I need to scramble together another one. I have to keep myself from coming up with too many ideas for him, but Dionysian Nightmare is supposed to be his band :]!

As long as Eddie is alive (which is hopefully the whole campaign o7) the band will just be a fun easter egg. However, if he does die, I will go full Band Development mode. It will be fun and sad. If the extra doesn't get used, I'll still probably recycle him for another campaign or release him from dnd and just have him as a standard OC

As a treat here is the better mockup of the album cover + notes

[rootedinrevisions]

Through the Wreckage

SUMMARY: When a devastating tornado tears through town, Tyler Owens faces his worst nightmare: the woman he loves is missing. Tyler is thrust into a desperate search through the wreckage to find her. As the storm's aftermath unfolds, it forces him to confront his fears, regrets, and hopes for the future.

A/N: So got inspired for this after watching Twisters earlier today. Just the anguish that we saw from Tyler when he realized Kate was driving into the tornado made me wonder what would happen if the person he loved was missing or in danger. Hence where we ended up here.

WARNINGS: Destruction (ie: a tornado hit so damaged buildings, smoke, dust, sparks, etc.), Blood, Minor Injuries.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The tires screeched as Tyler pulled up to the scene, gravel crunching beneath his truck. He barely shifted into park before throwing the door open and jumping out. His boots hit the ground with a thud, and the first thing his eyes locked on was the building—partially collapsed, its front wall completely gone. The inside was exposed like a broken shell, with beams hanging at jagged angles and smoke or dust curling into the air from where drywall and bricks had crumbled. His heart sank like a stone in his chest. This wasn’t good.

Behind him, Boone’s truck came to a stop, followed by Dani, Dexter, and Lily piling out of their vehicles. Tyler barely registered the sound of their voices calling his name as they ran toward him. His world had narrowed to the destruction in front of him, and one thought pounded in his mind: She’s in there.

Pulling his phone from his pocket with shaking hands, Tyler checked the last location pinged from your phone. His stomach twisted. It matched this address. He swallowed hard, the weight of dread pressing down on him as his eyes scanned the crowd of people that had been pulled from the building and huddled together on the other side of the street. His pulse quickened as he searched for you, desperate for even a glimpse of your face. But you weren’t there.

“Tyler, man, slow down,” Boone said, gripping his shoulder as he came up beside him. “Let’s figure out what’s going on—”

“She’s not out here,” Tyler cut him off, his voice tight and raw. “She’s not with them.” He gestured toward the crowd of people being tended to by paramedics. 

His chest heaved as the realization hit him like a freight train: You were still inside.

Without another word, he turned and made a beeline toward the first responders standing near the edge of the debris. His strides were long and determined, his jaw set in grim determination as he ignored Boone’s calls to slow down. 

The closer he got, the more chaos surrounded him. The air smelled of smoke and damp concrete, and the sound of crackling debris mixed with shouts from firefighters. But none of it mattered.

“Did everyone get out?” Tyler shouted, his voice hoarse as he reached the nearest firefighter. “Did you see a woman—about this tall, light hair?” He motioned frantically, his green eyes darting around. 

He already knew the answer from their hesitant expressions, but he refused to accept it.

“Sir,” one of them started, stepping forward, “it’s not safe—we weren’t able to get to everyone.”

“Where. Is. She?” Tyler growled, his frustration boiling over. His voice cracked, raw with fear and desperation. “Her phone’s still pinging from here! I need to know if she made it out!”

Another firefighter shook his head grimly. “We’re still doing sweeps, but the building’s unstable. Most of the front wall came down in the collapse. We can’t risk—”

“Bullshit!” Tyler snapped, cutting him off as he took a step toward the wreckage.

Boone and Dexter were on him in an instant, grabbing his arms to hold him back.

“Tyler, don’t,” Boone urged, his voice low and firm. “You can’t go in there, man. It’s not safe. They’ll handle it.”

“She’s in there!” Tyler shouted, wrenching free from their grip. His voice cracked as he pointed toward the ruined building. “I know she is, Boone! I’m not waiting around while they do their sweeps!” His voice was shaking now, and for a moment, the raw emotion broke through his resolve. His chest heaved, his shoulders trembling as he ran a hand over his face, trying to block out the fear clawing at his mind.

The building groaned, a deep, unsettling sound that warned of further collapse. Tyler’s eyes darted toward it, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. 

If you were inside, he wasn’t about to stand by and let the clock run out.

“I’m going in,” he muttered under his breath, and before anyone could stop him, he broke into a sprint toward the wreckage.

“Sir! Stop! You can’t go in there!” a firefighter yelled, his voice sharp with authority.

Another called out, “It’s too dangerous! The structure’s not stable!”

But Tyler didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. The sound of boots pounding behind him told him Boone or Dexter was probably trying to catch him, but he didn’t care. All he could see was the shattered entrance ahead, the gaping maw of destruction that had swallowed you whole.

As he crossed the threshold, the air inside hit him like a wall—thick with dust and smoke, making it hard to breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, squinting to see through the haze. The floor was littered with debris—chunks of drywall, splintered wood, and jagged shards of glass. Wires hung loose from the ceiling, some sparking as they dangled.

The creak of shifting metal echoed through the space, and Tyler froze for a moment, his eyes darting upward. A beam groaned overhead, threatening to give way. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to move, stepping carefully over a fallen section of wall.

“Darlin’,” he shouted, his voice hoarse and strained. “Where are you?”

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the wreckage, his eyes darting from one pile of debris to the next. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional crackle of sparks or the distant shouts of first responders outside.

“Come on, darlin’. Give me something,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. He tried to focus, to ignore the dread clawing at the edges of his mind.

Tyler’s boot crunched on something, and he looked down to see a broken picture frame, the glass shattered across the floor. Around it were scattered papers, children’s drawings, and a few books covered in dust. He swallowed hard, the small remnants of normal life a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him.

Pushing forward, he weaved through the destruction, stepping over overturned chairs and avoiding the sharp edges of broken furniture. The air grew hotter the deeper he went, the faint smell of something burning making his stomach churn.

And then he saw it.

A shoe.

Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it—your shoe, half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees as his shaking hands reached for it.

“Sweetheart?” he called, his voice breaking. He tossed aside chunks of drywall and splintered wood, the sharp edges cutting into his palms. Blood smeared across the debris as he worked, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to you.

Finally, he uncovered your leg, and his heart seized. You were pinned beneath the debris, your body motionless. Dust and grime streaked your face, and your hair was tangled with bits of plaster.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers were gentle, but his hands shook uncontrollably.

Leaning closer, he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. And then he felt it—a faint, fragile beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief flooded him, and a choked sob escaped his lips. 

“Thank God,” he breathed. “I’ve got you, darlin’. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

At the sound of his voice, you stirred faintly, your head shifting against the debris that cradled it. The faintest groan escaped your lips, so quiet he almost missed it. Tyler froze, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes shot to your face.

“Darlin’?” He said, his voice trembling with equal parts hope and fear. He cupped your face with one dirt-streaked hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s me. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

Your brow furrowed slightly, and your lips moved, though no sound came out at first. He leaned closer, his ear inches from your face.

“Ty...” The broken syllable fell from your lips like a lifeline, and his chest ached at the sound of it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes fluttered weakly, just barely cracking open, but it was enough. Enough to send relief crashing over him in a wave so powerful it left him dizzy.

“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to grip yours. He squeezed it gently, willing his strength into you. “Stay with me. Keep those eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

You tried to say something else, your voice a faint whisper he couldn’t quite make out. He shook his head, tears pricking his eyes as he crouched lower to meet your gaze.

“Don’t try to talk,” he urged softly. “Just save your strength, darlin’. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay with me, okay? That’s all I need you to do. Stay with me.”

The faintest flicker of a nod came from you, but it was enough to shatter the fragile composure he’d been clinging to. His free hand pressed to his mouth as he choked back a sob, his chest heaving with the weight of his fear and relief.

The building groaned again, a deep, ominous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew he didn’t have much time. He slid his arms beneath you, cradling you against his chest as he stood.

With you in his arms, Tyler turned toward the exit, his focus unwavering despite the chaos around him. All that mattered was getting you out of here alive.

Tyler adjusted his grip on you, holding you closer as he stepped carefully over the uneven ground. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

The air inside the building was suffocating. Smoke and dust hung thick like a heavy fog, clawing at his lungs with every breath. His throat burned, and each inhale felt like dragging sandpaper across raw skin. He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before forcing them open again. He couldn’t lose focus—not now.

Sparks rained down from a severed electrical wire overhead, the sharp sting biting into the exposed skin of his arms. He flinched, gritting his teeth as the acrid smell of singed fabric filled the air. 

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate as he looked down at you. “We’re almost out of here.”

Your body shifted slightly in his arms, and a soft, raspy cough escaped your lips. Tyler’s heart jumped at the sound. Panic surged through him, as he saw how shallow your breathing was.

“You still with me?” He called, his voice cracking. “Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You coughed again, your eyelids fluttering briefly but not opening. A weak, almost inaudible groan escaped you.

“That’s it,” Tyler said, his tone urgent but soft like he was coaxing you back to him. “You’re doing good. Just keep breathing for me, okay? We’re getting out of here.”

He stumbled slightly as the ground beneath him shifted—a section of flooring sagging under the weight of the debris. Tyler’s knees buckled for a moment, and he tightened his grip on you, his heart racing.

“Dammit,” he muttered, steadying himself before pressing forward.

The building groaned around him, the sound of metal twisting and concrete cracking growing louder. He could feel time running out.

Another section of ceiling collapsed behind him, sending a fresh plume of dust into the air. Tyler ducked instinctively, shielding you as debris rained down. A sharp edge grazed the back of his neck, and he winced, but he didn’t stop moving.

The exit was just ahead—a faint sliver of light visible through the haze. Tyler pushed toward it, his legs trembling with exertion. His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the lack of clean air began to take its toll.

His steps faltered, and he coughed violently, nearly doubling over. For a moment, he thought his legs might give out, but then he felt a small, trembling hand against his chest. Your hand gripped weakly at his shirt, your head lolling slightly against his shoulder.

“T-Tyler...” you rasped, your voice barely audible. 

His breath hitched, and he forced himself to keep moving. 

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just hang on.”

The exit grew closer, but the smoke thickened, clawing at his throat and lungs. Tyler stumbled again, his knees hitting the floor as his body screamed for oxygen.

“No,” he growled, shaking his head as he clutched you tighter. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the way his legs trembled beneath him.

The light from the exit grew brighter, and he could hear the distant shouts of first responders outside. They sounded muffled like he was underwater, but it gave him just enough hope to keep going.

Sparks rained down again, burning his exposed arms and neck, but Tyler turned his body to shield you, hunching over as he pushed through the final stretch. His back felt like it was on fire, the fabric of his shirt sticking to blistering skin, but he didn’t slow down.

Finally, he broke through the haze, stumbling out onto the pavement. The fresh air hit him like a punch to the chest, and he gasped, his knees giving out as he sank to the ground.

“Help! Somebody—” he coughed violently, his voice raw and barely audible. “Somebody help her!”

Paramedics rushed toward him, but Tyler’s focus was on you. Your face was pale, streaked with dust and sweat, but your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He reached up to brush a trembling hand against your cheek, his fingers stained with soot and blood.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” He whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes. 

Tyler cradled you in his arms, his knees rooted to the pavement as the chaos of the world around him blurred into background noise. His only focus was you.

Your head lolled weakly against his chest, and your breaths were growing more shallow and uneven by the minute. A fresh wave of panic crashed over him as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close.

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice trembling. “No, no, darlin’, stay with me. Look at me.”

Your eyes opened slightly, your gaze unfocused as you struggled to lift your head.

“I… can’t,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his tone firm but full of emotion. “You’re not quittin’ on me now, you hear me?”

You coughed softly, your body trembling in his arms. Tyler adjusted his grip, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the pain and the fear.

“We have plans, remember?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes. “Dinner tonight, just you and me. You told me you wanted to get dressed up, and said I needed to wear that tie you like. I’m not lettin’ you out of that, sweetheart. You still owe me a dance.”

A weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faded as your eyelids grew heavier.

“And the church,” he continued, desperation lacing his words. “The little church your parents got married in. We’ll get married there, just like you’ve always wanted. You can wear that lace dress you talked about, the one you saw at the boutique last spring.”

You made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and your fingers twitched weakly against his chest.

“And kids,” Tyler added, his voice breaking completely now. “Two–hell, however many you want. We’ll give ‘em the best damn life, I promise you that. Just… just stay with me, darlin’. Please.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, glassy but fixed on him.

“Three or four?” you rasped, a faint hint of amusement in your tone.

Tyler let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him like a flood. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dirt from your cheek.

“Yeah, three or four is perfect, darlin’,,” he said, his forehead pressing against yours as his tears mingled with the soot on his face. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just tell me the names you’ve got picked out, and I’ll make it happen.”

You gave a weak, tired smile, and he could feel the slight rise and fall of your chest against his. But your body still felt too limp, too fragile in his arms.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

Your gaze flickered once more, but before he could plead again, the paramedics swarmed around you.

“Sir, we need to take her now,” one of them said urgently, but Tyler’s arms tightened instinctively around you.

“I’m not leavin’ her,” he said fiercely, his eyes wild as he looked up at them.

“We need space to help her,” the paramedic insisted, their tone gentle but firm.

Tyler hesitated, his heart warring with his head as he realized he had no choice. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You hang on, you hear me?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

Reluctantly, he let them take you from his arms, his hands trembling as he watched them load you onto the stretcher. His heart clenched painfully as he saw your pale, dust-streaked face disappear behind the blur of paramedics working to save you.

* * * *

The waiting room of the hospital felt like a void. Time moved differently here, stretching out each second into an eternity. Tyler sat hunched over in a plastic chair, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat nearby, their voices low and subdued as they tried to offer support. But Tyler didn’t hear them. His mind was stuck in the chaos of the collapsed building, the sound of your ragged breaths, the weight of your fragile body in his arms.

He stared at the double doors down the hallway, willing someone to come through them with news. Good news. Any news. His burned skin throbbed beneath the bandages the ER nurses had wrapped around him, but he didn’t care. The only pain that mattered was the fear clawing at his chest. The fear of losing you.

“T,” Boone said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. She’s gonna pull through.”

Tyler nodded absently, his throat too tight to respond. He wanted to believe Boone, but the image of you lying so still, your face pale and streaked with dust, was seared into his mind.

The doors finally swung open, and a doctor stepped into the waiting room. Tyler shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Tyler Owens?” the doctor asked, glancing around the room.

“That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

The doctor smiled softly, and Tyler’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said. “She inhaled a lot of smoke, and there’s some bruising from the debris, but no major injuries. She’s going to be okay.”

Tyler exhaled a shaky breath, his hands dragging down his face as the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.

“Can I see her?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking.

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “She’s awake, but she’s still weak. Try to keep it short for now.”

Tyler nodded, barely hearing the last part as he followed the doctor down the hallway. His boots echoed on the tile floor, the sound somehow both grounding and surreal.

When he stepped into your room, his chest tightened at the sight of you. You were propped up in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask resting lightly over your nose and mouth. The faint beeping of the monitors was a comforting reminder that you were still here, still breathing.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him, and despite the exhaustion etched into your face, you managed a small smile.

“Hey, cowboy,” you whispered, your voice muffled by the mask.

Tyler’s lips curved into a smile, and he pulled a chair up to your bedside, sitting down with a sigh of relief. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”

“I’ll try,” you teased weakly, your fingers giving his hand the faintest squeeze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Tyler’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes drinking in the sight of you as if to convince himself you were really okay.

“I meant what I said out there,” he finally murmured, his gaze locking with yours.

You frowned slightly in confusion. “What part?”

“All of it,” he said. “The church, the kids, everything. I want it all with you, darlin’. I want to marry you, and I’ll wear whatever you tell me to.”

You laughed softly, the sound raspy but real, and Tyler’s heart swelled.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your smile softening as tears welled in your eyes. “I want it all too, Tyler. I always have.”

Tyler leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s start with dinner,” he said. “Soon as you’re out of here, I’m takin’ you to the nicest place in town. No storms, no distractions, just you and me.”

Your fingers tightened around his as you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Deal. Can we have Italian?”

For the first time in hours, Tyler let himself relax, a small smile playing on his lips as he whispered, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i need you to fill the void ❞

# summary; someone spoils your secret

# playlist; void, the neighbourhood, nothing's gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex.

# word count; 1.2k

# note; freya, faith, and talia cameo, I didn't proofread and I hate this oops.

Have a wedding they said, it'll be fun they said. You can't name a time when you've been this stressed out and anxious in all your years of living. To make it even worse, the one person who could help you breathe through all of this wasn't going to able to see you for another three and a half hours.

Last night, for the sake of tradition, you slept without George for the first time in more than a year. He texted you about a thousand times after you finally fell asleep about how he couldn't wait to be tied to you for the rest of your lives, which meant you woke up in the best of moods despite the lack of his presence.

Keeping everything a secret wasn't hard, since everyone had done it before for Simon and Talia. Unfortunately, some people you thought you could trust with an invitation weren't the most reliable. Your friends were sat off to the side some snapping pictures of you and themselves, others scrolling social media. Freya gasps, she's unable to control the way her lips purse, and brows crease as she turns the volume of her phone down as quick as possible.

You're sat in a chair, your makeup artist hard at work. "Something wrong?" In the blink of an eye, the girls are all standing around Freya, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Talia chews at her bottom lip before speaking, "Y/N, sweetheart, I'm gonna show you something, but I want you to try not to freak out."

You swear you feel your throat begin to close at the slight waver in her voice, now it's your turn for your brows to knit together, "I'll try," you mumble, absentmindedly picking at your manicure.

She makes her way to you as slow as ever with Freya in tow with her phone, which she hands off to you after turning the volume back up, swiping up and back to the video to restart it. You recognize the username as a girl George had introduced you to a few months ago at the sidemen's anniversary party, you don't recall sending her an invitation...

The video begins with a screech from her, "Hi, guys! This get-ready with me is extra special, this time my friend George is getting married," you feel your stomach drop, cheeks warming as she talks about only being a plus one to someone whose name goes in one ear and straight out the other.

"This better be a fuckin' joke," bile begins to rise in your throat and tears threaten to melt away every bit of the 45 minutes spent on your nearly Pinterest-perfect makeup. When you click on the comments you notice there are some from mere seconds ago and steadily continue to pour in, you shake your head hoping someone will pinch you and wake you from this atrocious nightmare, "God, I really wish this was a joke," you whisper, your bottom lip trembling uncontrollably.

You look up at the girls around you as you slowly start to crumble under the weight of it all. Faith is typing away furiously, jamming her fingers against her phone screen, you hand Freya her phone back, wordlessly reaching for your own that was laying screen down on the vanity.

When the screen comes to life you see messages, notifications from dms, posts, and tweets you've been tagged in. Nothing really catches your eye aside from two missed calls from George and a few texts just under them.

my fiance 😝😈: call me when you see this please, darling

And you did exactly that. He answers on the first ring, his soft, accented voice filling your ear ripping another sob from your throat, "Y'alright, love?" He asks knowing the answer, hoping to god you weren't on tiktok to see what he'd seen a few minutes ago, but as you cry into the speaker he understands you have.

You shake your head, before remembering that he can't see your actions, "No," you croak, making him sigh and shake his head. This is your day and somehow someone's managed to ruin it for you.

To be completely honest, George couldn't care less about everything being secret, but all you wanted through the whole planning process was privacy, no huge party after the ceremony, nothing.

You didn't want to post anything until you were boarding the plane for your well-deserved nearly three-week honeymoon. And your fiance was more than happy to oblige.

"Can you come here? Please, I couldn't give two fucks about tradition, we're fuckin' tiktokers for god's sake." you pause a second until you hear shuffling on his end, followed by a snort. "I'm already outside, baby," you hear the smile in his voice, you keep your phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder.

When the door swings open, he's standing there looking so damn good in the suit you picked out together so many months ago and it makes you cry even harder, knowing how much of a snotty mess you probably look now all because everything not going the way you imagined.

He wraps you into his arms before you're able to say anything, breathing you in. "You look beautiful," he steps back from you keeping a comforting hand on your hip as he looks you up in down, "this satin?" He asks pinching at the material of your dressing gown, to which you simply nod, your throat still feeling tight.

Of course, he notices how much everything's eating you alive, "I handled it, sweetheart. I figured out who invited her, they know we don't think its a good idea for her to come," he gives you a reassuring squeeze, watching your face closely for any change of expression.

You pursed your lips taking a deep breath through your nose, "Thank you, I missed you so much," he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, instead of responding immediately, he chose to envelope you into his arms. Your ear is pressed against his chest so close you can hear his heart thumping against his ribcage, "Missed you more, could hardly sleep without you."

This time when he pulls away, his hands cup your face, and his lips meet yours in what you swear is the best kiss you've ever had, he doesn't keep you like that for as long as you'd like, leaving you chasing after the feeling. He rests his forehead against yours and his hand slips from your cheek to your neck where he feels your pulse quicken.

He breathes you in, this time stepping back for real knowing the girls are waiting for you, "Now go get in the dress I've been hearing about for months, wanna hurry up and make you mine for life."

You smile, the first real one you've worn since reading his messages this morning, "So impatient," you mutter and he shakes his head, swatting at your bum, "I can show you impatient," he quirks a brow, his voice is laced with suggestiveness that's unmistakable

"Later," he raises his hands in surrender as you turn back to the door that's ajar, his hand catches your wrist, turning you around quicker than you could let a gasp escape you. His lips find yours once more and you exhale out of your nose, relaxing against him as he smiles against your mouth. "Now you're free to go," your fingers dance along your now tingling lips, as you watch him disappear down the hallway,

When you return to the girls you almost have forgotten the original situation at hand aside from the fact that maybe every little thing about him is the best.

[loveesiren]

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 4)

Choi Seunghyun x f!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: Please read the warnings before continuing this part of the story. If you are uncomfortable with the contents in this story, please don't hesitate to DM me for a quick summary of what happens without going into detail! You are responsible for the content you read and your triggers. MDNI 18+

Also, I have always openly been pro-choice and supportive of women's reproductive freedoms so if that bothers you at all, this isn't the blog for you.

synopsis: Y/n receives some unsettling news. The weight of all her past decisions and now future ones are weighing down on her. But her boyfriend is there for her no matter what.

warnings: ABORTION (pill form), side effects of the pill (cramping, bleeding, vomiting), language, a bit of self-loathing, fluffy fluff, Seunghyun being the sweetest man in the world

wc: 3.8k+

The last month with Seunghyun had been nothing short of magic. You floated through your days on a cloud of warmth and laughter, your cheeks aching from the constant smile he effortlessly drew from you. He had a way of making the world feel lighter, of making you feel cherished in a way you hadn’t even realized you craved.

He loved helping you with your designs, offering input that was sometimes playful, sometimes insightful, but always supportive. And in return, you adored watching him practice his choreography, mesmerized by the way he moved—fluid, powerful, effortless. It was impossible not to be captivated by him. And when he was in the studio, his deep, melodic voice wrapping around lyrics like honey, you sat in quiet admiration, drinking in every note.

You were in awe every single day that this man was yours.

But while your world revolved around Seunghyun, Jiyong remained in the background, distant and unreadable. He only spoke to you when necessary, his words clipped and formal. You barely noticed the way his gaze lingered on you when you laughed at Seunghyun’s jokes, or the way his jaw tensed when you beamed at the older man like he hung the stars.

Jiyong wondered—if he had treated you differently, if he had just let himself be softer with you, would you be looking at him that way instead?

But life was good. You were happy.

Until your annual physical changed everything.

The doctor’s words echoed in your head, reverberating like the aftershock of an explosion.

Eight weeks pregnant.

Your fingers clutched at the crinkling paper beneath you as though it could ground you, keep you from unraveling completely. Your lungs felt too tight, like the walls were closing in, like the ceiling was pressing down on you.

"Y/n?" The doctor’s voice was gentle, too gentle, as if she hadn’t just detonated a grenade at your feet. "Are you okay?"

No. No, you were not okay.

"I…" The word barely made it past your lips, strangled and weak. Your mouth was dry, your throat constricted by an invisible force. "I can’t be pregnant."

But the test said otherwise.

The doctor knelt beside you, her fingers curling around your trembling hand, offering comfort that felt both too much and not enough all at once. "You have options," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles over your skin.

Options. That was the cruelest part, wasn’t it? That this wasn’t some nightmare you could wake up from, some mistake you could erase. It was real. And there was only one way to make it unreal.

A single tear slid down your cheek. Then another. You swiped at them angrily, disgusted with yourself for crying when all you felt was terror.

"I need it gone," you whispered, the words barely audible. "I can’t do this. Please."

"Okay," the doctor said softly. "Take a deep breath for me."

You obeyed, though it did little to steady the storm inside you.

"If this is what you want, you have two choices," she continued.

"O-Okay…" Your voice shook.

"You’re still early enough to take a pill. You can do it at home if that would be easier for you."

"What’s the other option?"

"A procedure at the clinic. You’d need someone to drive you home. Is your partner in the picture?"

You hesitated. The question shouldn’t have felt like a knife in your chest, but it did.

"Uhm… he—he’s not the father."

The doctor nodded, not pressing for details. "I see. Well, if you prefer, I can get you the pill today. Otherwise we will have to make an appointment for you to come back."

"Can I-" You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "Can I do it tonight?"

"Yes. I’ll give you the first dose here, and you’ll take the second at home later on. You will experience cramping, bleeding—it’s normal. But if anything feels off, call us immediately. I’d like to see you again next week to check in."

"Okay." Your voice was barely more than breath.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

You nodded quickly, desperation clawing at your insides. "Yes. Yes, please. I need to do this."

The doctor nodded, offering a sympathetic smile before she disappeared for a moment, returning with a small paper cup and a bottle of water. "First, take these."

You hesitated, staring at the tiny pills resting in your palm. The weight of them felt heavier than anything you’d ever held.

Then, before you could change your mind, you swallowed them down.

She handed you a box, containing the pills for later. “Take these at 7 pm. It could take about 1 to 4 hours to start experiencing pain. Everyone is different.” She explained. “Here’s everything you can expect to happen. And I wrote down our 24-hour line if you have any questions.” She said, handing you some paperwork and pamphlets.

“Thank you.”  

By the time you reached your car, the numbness cracked, giving way to an avalanche of emotion. You let out a guttural scream, raw and broken, gripping the steering wheel as sobs wracked your body.

You hadn’t seen this moment coming. But your own careless actions had led you here, and now it was yours to bear. Alone. Or so you thought…

You made it back to your apartment in a daze, collapsing onto the couch, the stack of papers and pamphlets feeling like a lead weight in your lap. Your eyes were red, swollen, your chest tight with grief you didn’t know how to process.

You had no idea what to do or how to make this okay. There was only one person who could make this feel even a fraction less unbearable.

With shaky fingers, you picked up your phone and dialed his number.

"Hey, baby! How was the doctor?" Seunghyun’s voice was soothing, filled with warmth and love.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Seunghyun…"

His tone shifted instantly. "Baby, what’s wrong?"

"I… I need you." Your voice cracked. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.

"I’m on my way." His response was immediate, resolute. You could hear the rustling of his jacket, the jingle of keys. "Fifteen minutes, Jagi. Just hold on, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, clinging to the phone like a lifeline. "Th-Thank you…"

The wait was agonizing. You sat in suffocating silence, playing out the conversation in your head, the shame curling in your gut like a living thing. What would he say? Would he still want you? The two of you hadn’t even had sex yet. But here you were, knocked up by someone else. Not just anyone else, but his best fucking friend.

A soft knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You wiped at your face with your sleeves before getting up to open it.

Seunghyun stood there, slightly out of breath, offering you a small, apologetic smile. "I didn’t have time to get you a flower," he murmured. "Sorry, Jagiya."

The dam broke. You fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest as he held you, his embrace firm, unyielding.

"It’s okay," he murmured, running a soothing hand down your back. "I’m here. I’ll always be here."

And that only made you cry harder.

He guided you to the couch, keeping you wrapped in his warmth, waiting patiently until your breathing evened out. Then, he pulled back just enough to cup your face, pressing soft kisses to your damp cheeks.

"Sweet girl," he murmured, "tell me what happened."

"I fucked up," you choked out. "I fucked up bad."

"I doubt that," he said gently.

You inhaled shakily, glancing at the table where the pills and paperwork sat. "You know how you said our past doesn’t define us?"

"Of course."

You hesitated, then exhaled. "I was with someone before we got together.” You explained slowly. “It wasn’t serious. He was a prick, honestly…"

Seunghyun followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the mess of papers. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking at until he saw the word Abortion written boldly across a pamphlet. Understanding dawned in his expression.

"You’re pregnant," he said softly.

He was silent for a minute, processing the news he had just uncovered. You stared at him with glossy eyes, waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

Then, he reached for your hand “Okay…so what happens next? What did the doctor say?”

You looked at him, puzzled. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t storming out, calling you a whore. He was calm.

“I, uhm…I’m not keeping it.” You said. You took a deep breath. “The doctor gave me pills at the appointment. I have to take these ones at 7…”

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“She said there will be cramping…and bleeding…”

“Okay. I’ll stay with you. I’ll help you however I can.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “You-You’re not mad at me?”

"Accidents happen," he said, squeezing your fingers. "If this is what you want, I’ll be here. If you’d chosen differently, I’d be here too."

You sniffled again. “I really don’t deserve you.” You said sadly. 

“Don’t say things like that.” He said, pulling you close. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, clinging to him tightly. You couldn’t believe how calm he was. He didn’t even ask about who you were with before. You just couldn’t believe how perfect he was. You never wanted to do anything to hurt him, ever. 

That’s why Jiyong had to stay a secret.

-

As the night wore on, an unexpected sense of clarity settled over you. The earlier panic had dulled into something quieter—acceptance, maybe. Or just exhaustion. Either way, you felt more sure of your decision than you had before.

Seunghyun had been by your side the entire time, slipping out only to grab a few things—a heated blanket, some soft foods, and a stuffed bunny he thought might bring you comfort. It was small, gray with floppy ears, the kind of thing a child might cling to. And yet, as he handed it to you with a gentle smile, your fingers closed around it instinctively, as if it could somehow anchor you.

He had taken the time to read through every page of the instructions and pamphlets, wanting to understand what to expect, making sure you had everything you needed, ensuring you’d be as comfortable as possible. It was such a small thing, but it made your chest ache. He was trying so hard to take care of you, to protect you from something he couldn’t possibly fix. And God, you loved him for it.

Dinner was light—just something to put in your stomach so you wouldn’t take the pills on an empty one. But eating felt like a chore, each bite turning to sawdust in your mouth. Seunghyun practically had to coax you into finishing your meal, his eyes full of silent understanding. No words, just patience.

Afterward, you curled up in his lap, tucking your head against his chest as the two of you watched a movie. He held you close, running his fingers through your hair, rubbing slow, comforting circles against your back. Every now and then, he placed a soft kiss on your temple, your cheek—reminders that he was there, that you weren’t alone.

It lulled you into a drowsy peace, your body sinking further into his warmth, until—

“Jagi…” His voice was a whisper against your hair. “It’s almost 7.”

Your stomach twisted violently, the words alone had the power to unsteady you. You sat up slowly, pulling the heated blanket around yourself, gripping the stuffed bunny to your chest. Your hair was tousled, your face still puffy from the tears you’d shed earlier, but none of that mattered.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Seunghyun cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin before pressing a lingering kiss against it. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he got up, your eyes landed on the box sitting on the coffee table. You reached for it, turning it over in your hands, as if staring at it long enough would change what was inside. The first dose had been easy—nothing had changed yet. But this? This would be final. This would put an end to the madness you had created.

You sighed.

A family. Children. It had never been something you seriously considered before. Your career has always been your focus, your schedule too chaotic to even entertain the thought. But now, for the first time, you wondered—if you had thought about it before, would you have been more careful? Would you have stopped yourself from being so reckless with Jiyong?

But there was no use in wondering. What’s done is done, and all you could do now was face the consequences and make your decision.

At least you didn’t have to do it alone.

“Okay, here you go…” Seunghyun murmured, handing you the glass of water as he settled back beside you.

“Thanks…” You muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Silence stretched between you. Seunghyun sat awkwardly as you stared down at the pills in your palm, unsure of how to help. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to make this easier, and you could see the helplessness in his eyes.

A tear slid down your cheek, unbidden. You weren’t even sure why. Was it fear? Anger? The fact that you hadn’t even hesitated in your decision? Or maybe… guilt.

How would Jiyong react if he knew?

He could never know.

“Am I a bad person?” The question tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. You kept your eyes locked on the pills, afraid to meet Seunghyun’s gaze. “Am I… am I a bad person for doing this?”

“Oh, Jagi…” Seunghyun sighed, shifting closer. “Of course not. It’s a hard decision, but only you know if it’s the right one. Does it feel right?”

You exhaled shakily. “Yeah… Yeah, I think so. I’m not ready for kids. Especially with...” You trailed off.

“And that’s okay.” He said. He didn’t push for answers. He didn’t want to know.

Your breath hitched slightly. “Can this stay between us?”

Seunghyun took your hand in his, squeezing gently. “I won’t tell a soul.”

For the first time that night, you truly smiled. It was small, but it was there. And somehow, that tiny gesture gave you the final push you needed.

Without another word, you popped the pills into your mouth and took a long drink of water, swallowing them down in one go. You wiped your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie and exhaled.

“C’mere,” Seunghyun murmured, opening his arms. Without hesitation, you scooted into his embrace, letting him tuck you back against him as the movie played on in the background.

You felt yourself start to doze off again, hoping—praying—that maybe, just maybe, you could sleep through the night.

But that hope shattered an hour and a half later.

A violent wave of nausea hit you so hard it was disorienting. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat with alarming speed.

“Oh, God…” you gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth as you bolted from the couch, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut just in time.

The retching was brutal. Your entire body trembled as you clung to the toilet, heaving until there was nothing left inside you. Tears burned your eyes, your throat raw from the force of it. The room spun, and for a brief moment, you thought you might pass out.

After what felt like forever, you finally slumped back against the cold tile floor, utterly spent.

"Y/n?" Seunghyun’s voice was muffled through the door. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

You took a shaky breath. “I’m okay…” Your voice was hoarse. “I just… I just need a minute.”

A pause. Then, gently, “Okay… Let me know if you need anything.” He wasn’t sure what else he could say. He felt helpless standing on the other side of the door as you sat in pain.

You closed your eyes, exhaustion settling in deep. “Thank you…”

This was going to be a long night.

And it was.

The hours passed in uncomfortable waves. The nausea came once more before the cramping set in, sharp and relentless. You curled up on the couch, wincing as each wave of pain rolled through you, trying to focus on the TV for a distraction. It didn’t work.

Seunghyun stayed close, his hand resting softly on your stomach, tracing slow, careful circles in an attempt to soothe the ache. It didn’t stop the pain, but the warmth of his touch was grounding.

And then, it happened.

You knew. Not just because of the blood. You could feel it—the shift, the emptiness, the finality of it all.

You sat on the floor of your shower, your knees pulled to your chest as the warm water cascaded over you, washing away the remnants of the day. Washing away the last piece of Jiyong.

You hated yourself for it, but you breathed a sigh of relief.

-

Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness that still cloaked the room. The faintest traces of sunlight slipped through the curtains, casting soft shadows against the walls. The quiet hum of the city outside was distant, muffled, as if the world itself had slowed to match the exhaustion weighing down your body.

But the ache in your abdomen refused to let you rest any longer. A dull, persistent cramping settled low in your stomach, an unwelcome reminder of everything you had endured the night before.

Yet, wrapped in Seunghyun’s arms, you felt safe.

His strong arm draped over you protectively, anchoring you to him. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm against your back, his warmth cocooning you in a way that made the pain feel a little less sharp. You weren’t ready to move just yet. You weren’t ready to leave this moment.

You burrowed deeper into him, your body instinctively seeking out his comfort, your fingers lightly tracing the arm around your waist.

A sleepy murmur came from behind you. “How are you feeling?”

His voice was hoarse with sleep, rough around the edges in a way that sent warmth curling through your chest.

You exhaled softly. “It still hurts a little… but it’s not as bad.”

He shifted slightly, tightening his hold on you as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck, a silent reassurance. “Can I get you anything?”

You hesitated. The answer was yes—there were a hundred things you could have asked for. A heating pad, another blanket, tea… something to help fill the empty space inside you.

But more than anything, you just wanted him.

“Just… hold me a little longer,” you whispered, barely audible in the quiet room.

“I can hold you all day, baby,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “I already told everyone we wouldn’t around today.”

That made you stir slightly, turning your head just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “What did you tell them?”

He chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your skin. “Food poisoning.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you did.”

“I had to come up with something, Jagiya. You think I was gonna tell them I wanted to stay home and cuddle my girl all day?” He teased, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

Your heart swelled at his words. My girl.

You shifted in his arms, turning fully to face him. He instinctively slid his hand to your hip, keeping you close. His face was still heavy with sleep, his hair sticking up in every direction, his lips slightly swollen. His puffy, half-lidded eyes met yours, full of unspoken devotion.

God, he was beautiful.

“Morning, Angel,” he murmured, his fingers brushing softly against your side.

You smiled, lifting a hand to smooth down the unruly strands of his hair. “Morning.”

Seunghyun leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something different in the air between you—something heavy, something unspoken.

Your throat tightened as the words formed at the tip of your tongue, pressing against your lips. Was it too soon? Should you wait?

But the truth sat so heavily in your chest that holding it in any longer felt impossible.

“Seunghyun, I—” You paused, gathering your thoughts, trying to find the right way to say it. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, fragile yet absolute.

His eyes widened slightly, the sleepiness dissipating in an instant. “You do?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Yeah, I do. And what you did for me last night… you didn’t have to do that. But you did. And I just—” You exhaled, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say it back. Just know that I—”

Seunghyun cut you off by pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, lingering, full of emotion that words couldn’t quite capture. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment, like he had been holding onto those same words, just waiting for you to say them first.

You melted into him, wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. His fingers traced slow patterns along your waist, grounding you, steadying you.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a breathless smile playing at his lips.

“I love you too, Y/n.” His voice was steady, sure—like he had never been more certain of anything in his life.

Your breath hitched slightly. You had hoped for it, but hearing him say it sent a warmth through you that chased away all the darkness lingering in your mind.

“Seeing you go through that last night…” He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “It broke my heart. I hate seeing you in pain. I just—I’m just glad you trusted me enough to let me be there for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from sadness or guilt. They were from the overwhelming love you felt for the man in front of you.

You had no idea what you had done to deserve this. To deserve him.

But God, you were grateful.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, your thumb tracing over the stubble that shadowed his jaw. “I know it’s a lot to ask… but… can we never talk about it again?” Your voice was small, hesitant. “I just want to move forward… with you. Only you.”

Seunghyun didn’t hesitate. He smiled softly, tilting his head to press another lingering kiss to your lips.

“Of course, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “Just you and me now, yeah?”

You nodded, letting yourself sink back into his embrace. “Just you and me.”

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[imkinddassus]

This au take place after the events of poppy playtime chapter 3, by some magical unknown reason, the smiling critters are now reincarnated in a cartoon form (except Catnap who is a doll), three prophets are tasks on keeping balance in their so called paradise.

MEET THE CAST!

The prophets:

Prophets can't dream and have nightmares, their emotions heavily impact on their powers, uniting with one another will cause strange effects to their world, they remembered their past life and can relive the moment when someone trigger a specific word. Keeps past secrets from others.

The others smiling critters:

Have nightmares of their past but assuming that they are vivid nightmares. They have no memories of the past neither was the hour of joy. It's like they are reborn.

Chapter cuts:

Camping (complete)

Moonlight Falls (complete)

Trusting (complete)

Hallucinations (complete)

Devil's Hours

One Small Step

Extras

Brief summary

Everyone's feelings for each other

Broken bonds

Catnap's punishment

CatNap idk

Prophet's powers (thing)

Something about catnap's design

Useless doll

The Devil Himself

Craftycorn and catnap thing

Tea party

Curiosity kills the cat

C̷̪̒̽̿ų̴͈̦̪̝̿̊̑̕͘͝͝r̷̡͈̟̤̮̄̆̄̿́i̸̩̹̍͌̒͝ͅo̵̡̜͉̠̙̗͈͍͆s̷̨̡̪̦̙͉̞̉̅̔i̵̧͉̙̼͋̋̏̒̑̊̍t̶̛̠̥͉͒́̀y̵͉͇͎͖̳̺͖̍̈͌̏̇̈͌͗̐

Aurora borealis

Selfless

Sinner

Anger issues

It's my fault

Regret

Past..

Friendship ahh

Before the accident

The fallen

Titles..

Some other time..

🌙🖌️

Rules on asking in this blog:

(a bit busy at the moment)

Do not ask anything overly sensitive, out of topic and inappropriate ask.

Be respectful and a decent human being.

Ask is now available for dogday, crafty, picky and hoppy!

My main blog:

@yanari-arts

But don't go there cuz I only reblog stuff there

HA!Catnap's blog:

@nappycat1188

Another blog for coolcat:

@galactic-sisters

DM ME IF YOU WANNA JOIN MY DISCORD SERVER SO I CAN GIVE U THE LINK!!!!

(if you want more content and lore.. sorry.. ya gotta have to search it urself! That's what makes it fun!)

[jedisupernova]

reuniting with seong gihun

notes minors dni contains fem aged up reader (same age is gihun), always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but truly anyone can read, takes place in the midst of his pursuit of finding the salesman, ANGST (self deprecation, selfishness, mentions of hardships, death, failed relationships, suppressed emotions, mentions of infertility, includes arguments; this does not have a happy ending), dynamic between reader and gihun is childhood friends who reconnect in later adulthood, some made up lore to build said dynamic, mentions of nightmares, violence, smoking, sickness, slow burn maybe? i'm trying something new, and smut (mutual masturbation) after trusting someone for the first time in a long time mends part of his soul, but for how long, and at what cost?

requested? no, this is an original idea! i can't be normal about anything and how underrated he is in his own show is diabolical. anyway this one is long. please request something if you'd like or stop by the ask box or dms to say hello! i love a man with big brown eyes whose real good at looking sad. enjoy!

you always looked forward to every other saturday because it meant you had the day off. you took this time to sleep in before heading to nearby markets for your weekly grocery run. it was right after lunch time that you were perusing coriander so fresh you could still see water droplets on its leaves. just before you were to ask the older woman who ran the stand for the price, a familiar face swept past your peripheral vision.

you looked over your shoulder, seeing a man dressed in an unzipped jacket and talking rather quickly into his phone. he looked around the street corner like he was lost, a passing car letting you hear only fragments of what he was saying: "—station? which one?" you were about to return to your business when he faced in the direction of your gaze entirely. you hadn't seen that face in years . . .

he hung up the call, now typing with fervour. without thinking, you started walking: "gihun? seong gihun?" your voice was soft, approaching him with an air of caution you couldn't explain. he looked up, face tense with something beyond stress. "yes?" "it's me." you said your name. "we—we went to grade school together? my ... my parents owned a shop just down the street from your mother's." why did every syllable feel more embarrassing than the last, and why did your voice get quieter with every word? you were certain that you were looking at the gihun you grew up with—who could forget those distinctly emotive brown eyes, or those ears that stuck out and were made fodder for incessant teasing from your classmates? but gihun's expression didn't move an inch, his eyebrows knitted together in the slightest of confusion. but it was merely momentary, because when you were uttering apologies, his eyes widened with belated realization. "yes," he thought aloud, his tone was still oddly serious. "i taught you how to tie your shoes."

your expression blossomed into utter elation, lips separated in shock. he so casually swept the dust off of a shelf of memories you forgot even existed, making you mentally regress to that afternoon during p.e. who knows how many years ago. "y-yes!" you nodded. "i wore velcro shoes until i was eleven!" another memory came to the forefront: "we used to trade cassettes during lunch! we argued so much over the british ones. who was it again? david bowie and—" "—duran duran." said gihun. "duran duran!" you repeated, beaming. "oh my ... when was the last time i listened to them." you pondered aloud.

warmth crept onto your cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth: "i remember you and sangwoo styling your hair like theirs." a breath left his lips, chest tightening, his eyes betraying him as they quivered in abrupt grief. "you wore so much hair gel it blinded me in study hall. i wonder where sangwoo is now. i haven't heard much since he graduated from snu. are you still friends today?"

your question was objectively harmless. there was absolutely no way for you to have the faintest clue of the atrocities gihun's been forced to witness; the painful guilt he carries; the nightmares that carve the abysses underneath his eyes; the debilitating anxiety that fills his head with endless noise even in the eerie quiet of his deserted motel. he nods, forcing a tight, small grin. "we did stay friends." he says bravely, his eyes looking more familiar than ever.

the genuine smile you give in return was added to his self-anointed list of reasons why, at the end of his life, he would not die a peaceful death. it was another thing he would laboriously mewl over in the afterlife, looking up at the rest of the world, shackled to the deepest, darkest pits of eternal regret.

"that's good to hear." you say. "how're you doing, hm? you've cleaned up well from when we were in our twenties." you quipped playfully. through the scattered shells of his soul littered throughout his body, his innocent self was still somewhere in there, because he subconsciously looked for an out to ease his internal tension, letting out a chuckle at your remark. those vibrations in his chest felt foreign after these past two years, but that murky remnant of his past self welcomed the change, no matter how minute it was. "i've been better." he responded.

"yeah?" you asked. "if it makes you feel better, i'm glad i ran late today. because i got to see an old friend after a long time." gihun glanced at either of your hands—no ring. "have you met anyone?" he asked. you nodded, understanding what he meant. "i did." you say. "he left me when the doctor told us i couldn't carry." your eyes widened, unsure of why you were suddenly so honest. "i don't know why i just—" "i'm so sorry." gihun cut you off. his hardened expression turned shocked, even appalled. you recouped, wanting to look past this: "it's okay." you shake your head, metaphorically dodging the memories of your marriage counselor telling you to not 'to deny your own personal wounds as it'll seep into the companionship.' "it was a long time ago, gihun. how about you? did you meet someone?" he nodded, sympathy glistening across his retinas. "we separated shortly after our daughter was born."

"seong gihun, a father?" you grinned. "anything's possible." the ringing of his phone diverted both his and yours attention away. "i'm sorry for keeping you. you looked like you were in the middle of something—" "no, no. it's fine," gihun shook his head. "here, give me your number. i'll call you." he didn't know why he did it. he failed to stop himself declining the phone call from the loan shark he hired to head the search for the salesman, let alone handing you his phone to type your number in. was the impulsiveness of his past self also crystallized, emerging at this very moment? his discreet vow to blend into the shadows seemed to have crumbled in these past five minutes, giving in to his complex feelings: your sweet demeanor made him feel like a normal human being, and he wanted more of it. for the first time in a long time, seeing someone from his past didn't end in complete anguish. or perhaps it was the gleam of sadness that washed over your eyes as you spoke of your ex-husband, inflating his subconscious savior complex. even so, after you exchanged polite goodbyes, walking off in different directions, he mentally kicked himself for compromising your safety concurrent with unabashed intention of calling you that very evening. through any stage of his life, through the gambling and the scheming, it seemed selfishness remained his kryptonite.

for you, it was a hell of a lot to take in. at some point, it felt as if a prank was being played on you. it was one thing to offer sincere condolences for his late mother, or be sorry that his daughter lived so far away. but ... children's games that ended in murder? masked guards with triangles, circles, and squares hiding their faces? a handsome, well-groomed man that tenderized his face over a game of ddakji, in the middle of a train station? sure, you would miss a lot of someone's life after not seeing them for nearly three decades. but ... but this? it was properly outlandish. crazy, even. but over that hushed dinner, sat in a corner booth, the scent of sizzling samgyeopsal on the grill increasingly nauseating, it was too detailed to be a lie. he pleaded nonverbally for you to believe him—through the desperate glossiness of his eyes. you affirmed your belief in the same wordless manner, visibly nodding. you almost threw up when he handed you a business card, the three aforementioned shapes on one side, a random assortment of numbers on the back.

gihun brought you to his motel that same night, barren and lifeless besides white noise of the warm-toned, aged ambient lighting on the first floor and the tinkering of various ceiling fans with rusted hinges. you took in the six monitors mounted on the wall in front of his bed, equipped with live block-to-block security camera footage of his immediate surroundings, the metro transit map tabbed meticulously, and the calendar with past dates crossed out in thick red marker, pages of months previous mixed with takeout containers lodged in the corner trash bin. you quietly followed him upstairs, seeing his hidden stash of weaponry as he explained his recruitment of underground crime groups he's known since his gambling days. you didn't utter a word, not even when you lastly saw the mountain of cash stacked on a random bed in a random room. it stared at you as you did it—blankly.

he broke the silence. "this is where i've been these last three years." he said. he turned to look at you. "i ... i understand that it's a lot." his voice grew quieter. he swallowed, feeling shame brewing in his chest. "i just—i just felt like telling you. i don't know why. i understand if you don't want to know me—" "—i want to help." you said. his eyes widened. "what?" "i want to help you, gihun." you looked at him. he was bewildered. he shook his head, dumbfounded. "no, i think you misunderstood—" "—i did?" you cut him off. "you brought me here because i believe your story, didn't you? what did you expect then, exactly? for me to take my conviction away, like you say those masked soldiers did to those people who didn't stand still enough, or broke their dalgona? you tell me all of these crazy stories, your pain is so visceral that it makes me nauseous with guilt, and you want me to walk away? huh? what is it, then? what did you want!?" you hadn't anticipated your voice to rise, but were yelling by the end, your irritation stuffing the room.

he took your verbal berating silently, avoiding eye contact and shoulders lowering. "i don't ..." his voice trailed. "i don't want you to get hurt." "you gave up the right to protect me when you gave the impression sangwoo was still alive." you spoke firmly, voice now leveled. a breath of defeat slipped through his teeth. "you should've never called me." you said. "you should've done what everyone does: offer to get lunch to be polite, but never actually do anything. you shouldn't've called. i shouldn't've answered. i shouldn't've have shown up tonight, and i should've walked away the moment you started talking. you've given me no choice but to stay."

the silence was deafening. he looked up upon hearing the skid of your shoes against the floor, coming face to face with your softened expression. it was strangely disarming, feeling goosebumps travel up his spine."you were rid of me for thirty years. it's only right we make up for lost time." you said. his gaze didn't falter. it was his turn to affirm his belief of your wordless plea. he nodded, "okay."

you stopped by the motel in the early morning before work, listening to him comb through whatever new strategy he was going to run by his men that day ("what do you think? does this sound efficient?") and in exchange for making you miss your train, he drove you to work before parking at his usual spot. his guilt of bringing you into all of this felt stronger some days than others, showing in your not hearing from him for a couple days at a time. until you squashed that like a bug, dialing him in the middle of your lunch break: "... hello?" "why haven't you called me?" "i ... i've been busy." "you don't have time for a one minute phone call? thirty seconds?" "no, no. that's not what i meant—" "—i'm coming to the motel tonight."

and like clockwork, at nine pm, you showed up on the security camera. his phone vibrated: I am outside. when he unlocked the door, you walked past him without uttering a word, b-lining to his room. he did not immediately follow, purposefully hovering at the entrance after locking it back up securely. he walked with a lowered head, peering into the doorway some moments later. he was taken aback by the sight of you unloading your tote bag, nose tickled with the scent of freshly brewed stew, steaming rice, and side dishes. "i've brought tupperware. you're not eating takeout anymore." you don't look at him, hanging your bag on the back of a chair after fishing out utensils, sitting down with a small huff.

you looked at him. "are you not joining me?" gihun walked into the room, but fell short of sitting down at the table. "how long ... how long have you been cooking?" he felt stupid for asking the question, but the gesture left his mind blank. he felt atomically undeserving. "i got off work early." you responded curtly, plating your food. gihun didn't say anything, making you look up at him again. "it's going to get cold, gihun." your softened tone gave you what you wanted, watching him sit down across from you with muted satisfaction. you ate together in silence, nothing but the gentle clattering of plates and a quiet "thank you" when passing dishes rivaling the white noise of the air conditioning.

"from now on," you started, bringing your bowl to your lips, finishing off the last of your serving of stew. "you will update me everyday. i will bring food for us. if you forget about me, i will haunt you in the afterlife." "understood." he muttered, avoiding eye contact, pretending to look for a piece of meat in his stew, ignoring the one showing itself plainly on the left side of his bowl. his bottom lip quivered; he tightened his mouth. his arms started feeling weak; he inhaled sharply through his nose, tapping his foot under the table. but then a ragged breath rattled out of his diaphragm, his shoulders shuddered, and his vision went blurry; he was a goner. he sobbed into his hand. it sounded a lot like a coughing fit, so you initially thought the food hadn't gone down smoothly. but his defeated, muffled mewls into his palm and sunken shoulders said otherwise, sending you to your feet.

gihun instinctually turned towards the feeling of your hand on his shoulder, crying into your stomach. his hands pulled at your jacket, making you stumble, but you caught yourself. "f-forgive me, please. i won't be able to live with myself. i haven't been able live with myself for a long time." you looked down at the top of his head, unsure of what to do. you brushed his hair back with your fingers—not sure if it was crossing a boundary, but it felt wrong to just stand there—he only cried harder, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you so tightly as if you were a lifeline. "you—you make me feel normal." he said, breathing in short gasps. "after all the sins i've committed, you've—you've shown me atonement is possible." he lifts his head, eyes reddened, cheeks wet. the imagery of the moment was almost religious; if you listened closely, a distant artist began hammering at a marble slab. "b-but i'm not deserving of mercy." he shook his head, his hands coming together, visibly pleading. "leave me. i've hurt too many people. i can't hurt you next."

you wiped his tears. "you already hurt me when you didn't call." you said. "you already hurt me when you pretended sangwoo was alive and well." you reminded gihun, his head sinking in shame. your hand traced his jaw, lifting his head to look up at you. "you don't get to hurt me again by acting like you're alone in this." your voice faltered to a whisper. gihun's fingers ghosted over your wrist. "listen to me—" "—no, you listen to me." you cleared your throat. "we met that saturday for a reason. you let me in tonight for a reason. we're sharing a meal for a reason. stop lying to yourself." you said. "i can handle myself. i've been through a lot. i don't know how many sins you've committed, but even the devil gets a second chance. you should know, you've looked down the barrel of his gun."

gihun tsked. "save your prayers, gihun. just let me have the peace of knowing i'm helping a friend." he sucked in a shaky breath, sinking his face into his hands. "what have i done?" he whispered. "no one deserves to be alone as long as we both have." you retort. silence fills the room, making way for the words to settle into his psyche. goosebumps arise along his spine at the return of your fingers brushing his hair back. you take a step forward, his forehead brushing against the same place he wept on seconds before. "the least i could do is stay," you spoke quietly as if someone would overhear, even if you two were alone. "even if it's for a little while." as embarrassing and hypocritical as it felt to him, gihun gradually wrapped his arms around your waist. his touch hovered, however, only for you to pull him in, letting him know it was okay.

he got the message. his eyes closed, a long breath escaping his lips. you would've missed what he said if you weren't listening closely: "please do." he said, voice low, tone weakened. "please stay the night. there's—there's a room close to mine. down the hall." "i will." you assure without hesitation."what're friends for, hm?" you grinned. gihun let go. "i'll go—" he cleared his throat, voice gravely. "i'll go wash my face." he gestured to the bathroom behind you, rising from his seat. you returned to yours, "when you come back, have more food. you look sunken in." "i will." he muttered.

gihun closed the sliding door, inhaling through his nostrils, wiping a rogue tear with his knuckles. before he turned on the water, he looked over his shoulder, peering through the translucent palm tree imprint adorning the bathroom door. he caught a glimpse of you re-plating his food, leaned over the table, carefully pouring more stew; a hefty pile of rice on his plate; the side dishes pushed towards his seat. his bottom lip quivered, quickly looking away and tugging the right knob, the faucet pouring. the water ran and ran, but his eyes were stuck on his reflection in the mirror. he felt nauseated by the sight of his glossy eyes, deepened frown lines, and pathetic expression: worthless, contradictory, complacent.

seeing himself felt revolting. not even a mother could love this face after all i've done. he thought to himself. how would he know? he found his mother lifeless on the floor when he came home, eternally impairing her with the gripping chokehold of disappointment routinely tightened by her deadbeat son throughout the last years of her life. what would she think of her son now, a secluded loner who lives off of blood money, whom watched his best friend die right before his eyes, hired criminals to do his bidding to further involve himself in a fight that feels too big, and on top of all that has looped in an innocent woman into all of this? and for what, comfort? a semblance of peace? gihun splashed his face haphazardly, drying off with a towel hastily. he turned the faucet off, staring at himself again: "own the consequence." he whispered to himself. "it's all your fault."

you stayed at the motel even if it was against your better judgment, such as having work earlier than usual. gihun stirred awake at the rustling outside of his closed and locked door, reaching over and squinting at his phone screen: 5:37 AM. his senses clouded by exhaustion, he didn't realize just how quickly he recognized your footsteps, climbing out of bed without a second thought. his voice startled you, even if it was quiet: "what're you doing up so early?" he asked. "you don't have work for almost three hours." "i go in earlier today," you weren't sure why you were whispering anymore. "and i forgot something at home. i'm sorry for waking you up, gihun. go back to bed." he left the doorway, coming back with his jacket and shoes on, keys in his pocket. "let's go. i'll take you home, then to work." "no!" you protested, shaking your head and waving your hand. "i've caused enough trouble waking you up." "i'm already here," he said, taking your purse and carrying it in his right hand, his left gently ushering you alongside him. "let's go. you'll be late."

you shared cigarettes after dinner, the emptied tupperware long forgotten on the small table some feet away. you blew the smoke out the window, watching it disappear into the night. the click of gihun's lighter caught your attention, gaze lingering whilst he inhaled. you smirked to yourself: "i kicked this habit right before i started trying for a family." you said, bringing the cigarette between your lips. "i guess you're as bad an influence you say to be." you quipped, exhaling. "high school gihun would ask if he looked cool doing it." he muttered, holding his between his lips, putting the lighter back in his pocket. "he would. and i'd tell him he does." you affirmed with a nod, flicking ash into the tray lining the windowsill. "he would also ask for you to not tell his mom, even though he stole those cigarettes from her shop. then, two days later, he'd ask you for one." you chuckled, leaning towards the window and blowing. gihun shook his head, "what an annoying kid." "funny." you corrected him. "you were funny. aware, but also clueless. caring, too."

"i was shameless." he murmured lowly, blowing his smoke. you tsked un-approvingly, "stop being so brooding. now that's annoying." he looked at you as if you detested his entire family lineage, eyes widened in an expression fit for schoolyard bickering. "i'm not being annoying, i'm being real! hey—" he said, pointing his cigarette at you. "you're the one being annoying, just going against whatever i say! you've been doing this so much lately! on wednesday, when i offered to buy dinner because you've been working so late these days, and you said to me 'hey gihun, i have fifteen more years until i'm eligible for elderly welfare. i can cook just fine.' you could've just said either yes or no!" he waved his hand to accentuate his point, continuing: "and last week when you told me five times to stop wearing the same three shirts on rotation, and i told you i have more than that but there's no need because i sit in a car all day, and you said 'you're more dedicated to an outfit than the president is to the oath of office.' where do you even get this stuff?" he questioned, bewildered, pointing his cig to his temple. you nearly drew blood from your lip from attempting to contain your laughter. "and i wasn't stealing from my mom when i was that young! at least be honest about that." hearing him accentuate his vowels in the midst of his frustrated rant—a habit he's seemingly had his entire life—made your face feel warmer than before, a wide smile appearing whilst laughter finally rang out of you; you'd unpack the former later.

"okay, okay." you nodded, your free hand coming to rest on his arm as a way of both giving in and telling him to calm down. "was it my mom you stole from, then?" you joked, unable to hold your laughter at the look on his face. "you can tell me, gihun. i'm sure the statute of limitations is up by now for theft." "you're impossible." he muttered, shaking his head, bringing his cigarette to his lips. "hey. hey," you said, arm traveling up to his bicep, "i'm just kidding. i know you didn't steal." he stayed silent until he couldn't. "jungbae used to take his father's cigarettes. that's what i smoked." "okay, okay. i believe you, no need to be emotional." you said that on purpose, an upside down grin molding your face at his expression, suppressed laughter clouding your lungs. "how am i emotional for just telling the truth! hey, you can't just lay the bait and expect me not to take it!" "are you really this unable to take a joke?" you questioned. "wow, gihun. you take our role as elders more seriously than anyone our age." you remarked with faux indignity, hiding your grin behind your hand, inhaling. "impossible." he muttered to himself, turning away from you to face the window. your hand fell to your side, glancing at his cigarette between his lips before gazing out the window yourself.

silence washed over the room. after a few minutes, you put out your cigarette in the ash tray. you cleared your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. "i know it's hard, but lighten up." you began. "we just had a good meal. our shit will pass smoothly in the morning." gihun turned his head, looking at you with those routinely emotive brown eyes, too capacious for his own good, gaping at you. you thought you knew what he was going to say, but he scoffed, looking back out the window, a hint of a chuckle leaving his diaphragm, a ghost of a smile on his face. "poop jokes? at our age?" he shook his head, inhaling. upon his exhale, he struck gold: "you're so full of shit." both of you turned to each other with widened eyes, an open smile of surprise on your face: "a pun!" you called out, pointing at his chest. "you just said a pun!" "i'm not inept." he said. "of course not." you agreed. "just stubborn." you grinned, hearing him scoff.

"you may not be the seong gihun i remember entirely," you said, watching him extinguish his cigarette. "but you're certainly a seong gihun that'll be hard to forget." your words weigh unexpectedly heavily, suddenly bringing up the inevitable next step when gihun confronts the salesman. it's long been established as you two have talked about it before, albeit more hesitantly these days, even if it didn't start that way. in the beginning, it was treated with zero sugarcoating; basic fact; common sense—he's going back in there and no one can stop him. however, over these last few months, it's not as if the end goal has changed, but its honest, unforgiving nature has become increasingly visceral. it lingers in the air like an unwanted draft, but you're scared shitless to get up to close the window, fearing something bad might happen if you leave your bed. it was overtly irrational, a perfect concoction of contradiction and avoidance; even at your big age. it made you feel sixteen again, narrowly evading your crush in the busy school corridor, but stealing every possible glance during your shared class. wait . . . hold on . . . did you just use the word . . .

"i don't plan on forgetting you." gihun cut your inner monologue off. you were taken aback. his gaze is unrelenting, even if his eyes give away his own surprise at his words. your mouth moved, but no sound followed. your mind was completely and utterly blank. gihun felt it too, considering you always had something to say at any given time. that's how you made your way back into his life; upended his routine; granted him a better sleeping schedule; made a technicolor life seem possible again; filled his aura with something other than regret and disdain. his life felt—even if it was only momentary—not like it was unfolding to the beat of a ticking metronome, but in peaceful silence, like now. there was no room for hurtful memories, intrusively incessant conflicting feelings born out of his festering trauma, or the hefty responsibility to avenge those lost that he attributes to his own faults. there was room for only you. you.

gihun turned away, flustered. he suddenly wished he never put his cigarette out, yearning for the scent of nicotine to distract him from the discomfort he felt now—a feeling he was sure you shared, too. "i'm sorry." he muttered, so quiet it nearly blended in with the noise of the air conditioning kicking in. you stepped forward, locking your arm with his. he turned his head, glancing at you when you laid your temple against his bicep. he feels one of your hands gingerly rub his arm, saying something neither of you had the guts to verbally. his posture was stiff, unsure of what to do, but he didn't think for an iota of a second to step away or nudge you off. he felt something inside him begin to thaw, or maybe it slowly had been this entire time. "tonight is the first time i've heard you laugh since we met again." you spoke. your tone was so hushed it made gihun feel as if you were the last two people on all of earth. you two stood in silence, looking out the same window; listening to the distant cares drive by; the meow of a stray cat; the air conditioning shutting off. too afraid to move his gaze—and frightened by how hot his face felt—gihun slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, slipping it into yours. it took him a moment to mount the courage to intertwine your fingers, and another to lay his temple against the top of your head.

something shifted after that night. how could it not? your apartment collected dust with how you practically lived at the motel, other than to cook. gihun awoke before you did on days you had work earlier, intentionally setting this alarm no matter the time he fell asleep the night before. you stayed in his car a little longer than usual when he dropped you off, really pushing that five minute grace period you have to clock in on time, even if those extra few minutes were spent in flustered silence or repeatedly glancing at how close your hands were on the center console. every time you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, you hoped it was him; elated if it was indeed his name in your messages, and an eye roll if it was an email or the news. gihun found himself sitting up in his seat when your text came through midday (Going on lunch in 15 min), uncomfortably tugging at the collar of his shirt. he cleared his throat when you sent your usual follow up (Free now), staring at the call button next to your contact name. what am i going to say? he thought to himself, only to realize how ridiculous he sounded. gihun pressed the button hastily, bringing the phone to his ear with an irritated huff. since when did i become sixteen again?

on the evenings where you're running late for dinner, gihun is in your room at the motel, tidying it. he didn't want to face the fact that he lingered in your space because it was precisely that: yours—or in more truthful words, he just really missed you. it was where your energy remained a constant, even through the poorly-lit space and stuffy air. it felt irrational to miss someone he would see in a matter of hours, but he could not help it. he distracted himself with fixing the folded corner of the thin duvet; smoothening a stubborn wrinkle on a pillow case; replacing a faulty lightbulb; cracking the window open just enough if it was particularly humid that day. if you still hadn't arrived afterward, gihun sat on the edge of your finely made bed, waiting idly. he sped down the hall upon reading I'm outside, hushing your flurry of apologies with a gentle "it's okay. i only just came home, too."

gihun was no stranger to nightmares. he had them often, tossing and turning in bed, waking up in a cold sweat or with a prolonged headache that followed him into the day. over time, he got better at lulling himself back to sleep, harnessing the mantra of it's not real as best he could. but one night . . . it was too tangible, tactile, even. filled with villains of his past, ghosts of mistakes, ominous reminders of the uncertain future. he knew he was in a dream, but his subconscious was at war with his conscious efforts to wake up—throwing him in a very frightening limbo. he awoke with a sharp gasp, his body riddled with sweat and coughing abhorrently, throat heinously dry. this was the most severe dream he's had in a while. gihun tried to ground himself by whatever means his mangled mind could think of: steadying his breath, feeling the fraying blanket with his fingertips, trying to remember that mantra ... but his senses felt electrified, the visceral fear of the nightmare still fresh.

his eyes shot open when he heard a knock at his door. he stilled, unsure whether he'd imagined it. some of his rationale had returned, but not entirely, because when there was another knock, he quickly got out of bed, grabbing the gun on his nightside table. that dream really must have done a number on him, because he didn't look at his monitors and moved based on assumption—halting upon hearing "gihun?" your voice laced with concern yet gentle, ear pressed against the door. you knocked again. "gihun? are you awake?" you asked. "is everything okay in there?" his shoulders sunk in relief. have i lost my mind? he thought to himself. he put the gun back, momentarily deferring his disgust over his rash actions, cracking open the door.

he swallowed, hiding his grimace at his still aching throat with a quick swipe of his forehead. "good evening." he said rather monotone, trying to mask as light-spirited but executing it meekly. "i'm okay. i had a bad dream." "i heard you—" you gestured down the hall. "i heard you from my room, gihun. you sounded like you were in pain. i was worried that, that—" "—i'm fine." he nodded, trying to assure you. before you rebutted, he asked "what time is it?" whilst rubbing his eyes. "two in the morning." you answered hurriedly. "look, gihun. you're drenched in sweat and you're breathing so hard. i know this wasn't some ordinary dream." you say. "was it ... was it about them? the men in masks, the games?" gihun's hesitant pause was your answer. "i'm okay." he said again. "i'm sorry for waking you up. go back to bed." you tsked. "still so stubborn, even when he's sleepy." you eyed him, seeing his glistening face. "okay," you gave in. "i'm down the hall if you need me." a pause. "you're not alone in this." you reminded him, walking away and returning to your room. his gaze lingered in your general direction for a moment before closing his door.

he tried to fall asleep, but found himself stuck, only able to stare at the ceiling. gihun's mind ran a million miles an hour, feeling short of breath if he focused on that for more than ten seconds. he looked at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes: 2:47 AM. sleep felt nowhere in sight. his sweat had mostly subsided, heartbeat leveled, but his mind remained riddled. if he closed his eyes, they would open right back up. your proposition played in his head like a broken record, but like anyone his age, his pride stood in the way. it's not only that he didn't want to seem weak or have an insecure grip on self-sufficiency, but also seeking comfort still felt foreign to him. it was another symptom of circumstance, both of the past three years and the last four months. gihun felt undeserving, foolish for pursuing such a thing when he's so close to throwing himself back into a world running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

gihun laid on his left side with a stern huff, closing his eyes, trying so desperately to feel that lilting tug of sleep, even if he had to pretend. he did all of this to protect you and himself. to protect the inevitable, to crystallize his oath of taking down those bastards once and for all. but when he looked at his phone, seeing it was now 3:16 AM, he suddenly felt thirty-five again: coming home horrendously late after another taxing day at the factory, muscles weak and his will even more so. his wife wasn't home, having been at her relative's house the past few days after an argument they had. he laid atop the bed the best his sore muscles allowed; he hadn't enough strength to shower or even feed himself. he got up less than four hours later, freshening up as best he could in an eerily silent house, ignoring the grumble of his stomach as he boarded the public bus.

it was one of his loneliest moments. he didn't know why he thought of that specifically, considering the divorce, custody battle, and moving back in with his mother was a different low point entirely. his eyes opened to the darkness. the silence felt similar, the shame even more so . . . gihun got up, taking his pillow and blanket with him. he knocked twice, pressing his ear against the door, only for it to creak open. it must have been left open. he stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. the layout of your room was the same as his, so he had no problem navigating the dark room. he quickly laid his pillow on the floor next to your bed, closing his eyes after unfolding his blanket. you were awake, overhearing his shuffling into the room. "gihun?" he gasped: "you scared me." he whispered back, hand on his chest. "why are you on the floor?" you asked. silence lingered. "i wasn't—i wasn't sure if it would be okay." "get on the bed, gihun." unbeknownst to him, you were awake for the past hour and some change waiting; having moved purposefully to lay on one side of the bed.

your face felt warm, eyes squeezing shut and nestling into your pillow when you felt the weight of the bed dip behind you. even though your backs faced each other, you thanked the universe that no lights were on in the room. gihun laid as far on his side of the bed as he could; not enough to warrant worry that he would fall off, but enough to thwart his fastening heartbeat he felt come increasingly close to his throat. or so he thought, because he stuttered with his next words: "you—you left your door open. don't ... don't do that. someone might come in." a beat. "you did." was all you said. barely ten minutes later, both of you succumbed to the white nose of the air vent, gihun's quiet snores and your steady breaths filling the room.

a week later, you walked into your apartment, setting bags of fresh groceries down on the kitchen counter. you heard your text tone go off in the midst of searching your cabinets for the usual pots and pans you used to cook—a piercing rattle reverberating through the immediate space when you dropped a small pot onto the stove, reading the text from gihun: 1 do not come. you stared at the text in horror, inner monologue clustered and borderline indecipherable—did he find him? how? when—yesterday it was another dead end—and lunch was smooth, too—how could have things changed so quickly? where is he—do not come? is he at there, at the motel? he sent this seven minutes—did he confront him there? how did he even find him there? how did he even— how did he even get inside? your eyes flickered back to the 1—a code you two established the night you took your wordless oath to help him in his endeavor ("it's quick to type. the 'one' we're looking for, the 'one' chance we have.") gihun sent the other three words to deter your stubbornness under the glimmer of the neon pink motel sign he didn't turn on himself, further punctuating the sentiment of imminent danger.

"how ... how long do i wait for?" you whispered to yourself. you paced back and forth, gnawing at whatever skin was left on your lips, moving to your nails after they felt raw. you didn't process your stomach rumbling more time went by; another hour passing on the clock, nor did you pay mind to how your loafers continuously pinched the back of your ankles, too occupied to remember to take them off. your phone rang close to midnight. gihun hadn't realized how quickly you picked up his call: "gihun!? what happened? is everything okay? are you okay?" "i'm safe." he said. "i am okay." he let out a breath, hearing yours on your side of the line. he began to explain: "we found him an hour after lunch. we tailed and tried to corner him, but he was too quick. one of my men are dead, and he used to other to find me at the motel." "n-no." you said weakly, shaking your head, horrified. "he was in my room." gihun continued. "he challenged me to a game of russian roulette. i won. he's dead."

you hadn't the faintest clue what that game was. but that did not matter. "d-dead? just—just like that?" your voice was quiet, eyes glossy. "after searching for these three years, he's gone just like that?" these people were so fucking odd. no matter how many times you reeled over the details, anecdotes, of whatever you learned, their ominous nature left you with an uneasy stomach; an urge to look over your shoulder at any given moment. it was consuming you these last six months. you couldn't imagine how it's been for him for the past few years. gihun nodded, despite you not being able to see. "yes." he affirmed. "he gave me what i needed. there's a card with a date and address for a halloween party, i think, since i searched it up and saw its a club. that's where the leader of the games will be. we've started planning what we're going to do—" "—that's—that's two weeks from now." you thought aloud. "yes." said gihun, nodding again. here came the part of the conversation he'd been avoiding: "i need you to ... i need you to stay at your apartment. just for tonight." you were deeply offended. "what? are you crazy?" you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows. "absolutely not. you listen to me, i'm coming—" "—no, listen to me." he cut you off. "it's a mess at the motel. i can't—" he huffed, shoulders sinking a little. "i can't do that to you."

you understood what he meant. "okay." you sounded hurt, but agreeable. you leaned on the kitchen counter, elbow rustling against the grocery bags. "okay." you repeated, running your hand over your face, clearing your throat afterward. you realized this wasn't gihun acting as if he was alone in his endeavor, but asking nonverbally for your belief in him. "i'll stay here. i trust you." "thank you." he responded in a whisper, overcome by a hefty wave of relief. "just for tonight. i promise." he specified once again. "i know." you said. a moment of silence washes over before gihun speaks. "i'll take you to work tomorrow." he said gently. "do you go in at nine?" "seven." you correct. you look over your shoulder, seeing it was nearing one in the morning on the oven clock. "i didn't realize how late it was. i haven't even showered yet." "me neither." he responded, glancing at the time on his car's dashboard. "i'll be at your building at half six. is that okay?" you nodded, despite his not being able to see. "yes, that's okay."

silence washed over the call. "thank you for trusting me." he said. "thank you for trusting me too. goodnight, gihun." "goodnight." he quickly hung up the call, tossing his phone onto the empty passenger's seat. a shaky breath left his lips as his eyes watered, fingers harshly rubbing his closed eyelids. "fuck." he muttered under his breath. when his vision cleared, he turned his head, looking out his car window to your apartment building. he stared and stared, eyes flittering up and down the various floors, trying to spot yours with any hint; a lamp turned off, a curtain closed, anything. some part of him wanted to stay in his spot until he was to pick you up, and another irrationally hoped you'd walk out of the building, like a lovesick teenager who's lost all reason. but eventually, gihun's hand reached for the gear, putting the car in drive, gradually pushing down on the peddle.

those two weeks were a stilled, prolonged goodbye. your face and muscles felt heavy as if you were already in mourning, but your brain remained defiant. he's too stubborn to let those people kill him. you told yourself, pouring creamer into your coffee at work. he's not stupid enough to die. the later half of october rolled out. with each passing day, you slowly lost the strength to cross out the dates on the calendar in his room. gihun would be a fool to not see the growing cynicism that deepened your eye bags, the perpetual frown on your face during dinner, or the avoidance of eye contact. you woke up too easily these days, gihun often hearing your shower head long before your alarm went off. he wasn't sure if you even set an alarm anymore, but it was enough to deduce you weren't getting much sleep. what was once a witty back-and-forth when reviewing the day's plans for his recruits, became a subdued, one-sided conversation where you looked at the whiteboard with an unreadable expression, offering a monotone "sounds good" in the end. as halloween drew closer, your midday texts lessened. gihun reached out—Are you going on lunch soon?—only to come to terms with his hurt upon reading your response: Busy day. I'll see you at dinner. your eyes watered, bottom lip quivering when he texted back: Okay. No problem. you clicked your phone off, turning it face down. you pushed away your half-eaten lunch, losing your appetite. a ragged breath left your diaphragm, tears threatening to leave your waterline. no one else was in the break room, so the consequences of suppressing your emotions thankfully beared no audience. but you felt exposed nonetheless, confronted by the fact that you couldn't bear to lose gihun, but you had no choice.

the motel was eerily silent the night before halloween. the plan was concrete, reviewed ad nauseam over the last couple of weeks. dinner had wrapped a few hours prior, the tupperware packed away in your tote bag hanging on the back of a lounge chair in your room. you didn't dare look at gihun. in fact, your eyes stayed down the entire time, speaking minimally other than to ask to pass a side dish, or offer him more rice. your quivering lips were hidden well behind your utensils, or taking a drink of water. gihun was just as quiet. not passive, but quiet. he didn't muster the courage to say anything. he might not be the most gifted in expressing his emotions, but he was aware enough to read the room and know it wasn't the best time to bring up the inevitable. he knew he couldn't leave you alone. he couldn't, not without saying something.

so there he was, some time past eleven pm, knocking on your door frame. "are you awake?" he asked gently, even if your nightside lamps were on, apparent that you weren't asleep. you peeked over your shoulder. "yes." you answered, returning your temple to your pillow. gihun walked into the room, back facing you as he sat on the edge of your bed. he had enough gall to keep you in his peripheral vision, but fell short of looking at you directly. "what did i tell you about leaving your door open, hm?" he asked, trying to sound sharp, but succumbing to tenderness. "anyone can walk in." "you aren't just anyone, gihun." you said oh so delicately, enough to have him turn his head completely, eyebrows turned up sympathetically. you saw his eyes on you in your periphery, but avoided his gaze, keeping yours on your palm running back and forth along a small spot of the thin duvet.

"i—" gihun reached into his pocket. "i made you a key for the motel." he leaned over to his right, setting it down on your nightside table. "if you ever need anything," he glanced in your direction, the strength to look at you fleeting. "take as much as you want. you know where the room is." you didn't say a word. your palm stilled. his gaze fell to the duvet, too, his hand gliding across the wrinkles. "like i said before," his voice was low. "i don't plan on forgetting you—" "—gihun, stop." you interrupted. "i don't have the strength for this."

silence. he tries again: "i'll come back." he spoke warily. "i'm going to come back." "please." your voice fell to a whisper. "i can't take it." your chin hovered above your chest from the length you went to avoid his eyes. you felt fragile as porcelain, every single utterance of this conversation chipping away at you without remorse. gihun doesn't try again, internally frustrated with how easily he felt defeated. silence wins again, but not for long. he continues tracing the duvet's wrinkles, inching towards to your hand with every swipe. his hand comes closer and closer, until he slows. you watched his fingers gradually hold yours. gihun doesn't apply pressure, but he stays there. he keeps them in his grip when he moves to lay on his side, facing you. "at least look at me." he whispered, pleading. "i can't." you sounded so defeated. his eyes glistened, gripping your fingers properly now. "i can't regret my decision now. not when i'm so close." his eyes shined under the warm-toned light of your lamp. "don't make me regret my decision. please."

your head rose, meeting his eyes. he looked his most familiar: a deep somberness etched in the crevices of his face, his eyes perhaps the most poetic of all. they looked so soft, so gentle; as if a look of malice could never come close to tainting them. he could try his damn hardest, feel the most visceral of anger, but he could never look truly dissatisfied, forever unable to mask his true desire for comfort. for love. a small grin tugged at gihun's lips. "there you are. i missed you." he was barely audible, almost as if he mouthed the words. without thinking, he moved his head onto the pillow, not realising how close you two were until it was too late. it was like a strange instinct, the way he leaned in. he couldn't stop himself; not when the quietest of gasps escaped between your teeth, or his heart thumping so harshly his chest felt it was going to burst, or when his lips hovered admittedly awkwardly above yours. the kiss was light, almost nonexistent, until gihun leaned forward a little more. the tip of his nose brushed past yours, bringing his lips against yours wholly. his nose lightly dipped into your cheek when he kissed you again. before you could show any semblance of reciprocity, gihun abruptly pulled away.

"i'm sorry." he said. "i shouldn't have ... i shouldn't have done that. i'm sorry—" "—it's okay." you shook your head, panicking slightly. you slipped your fingers out of his grip, using them to make him look at you. "come here." you say. he follows, molding his lips with yours once again. the kiss was one of fervor; relocating misplaced frustration into that of palpable yearning; two souls who came together by chance after decades past; an atomic understanding of each other's pain, yet accepting you'll never truly know what's its like to live the other's life; a long-awaited embrace of the unknown, succumbing to the desire—no, the need to be loved.

gihun's lips felt soft, contrasting with his stubble rubbing against your chin and upper lip. it made you pull him closer, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, eyebrows turning upward at the sound of your muffled whimper. your hand left his face, taking his hand and laying his palm atop your clothed breast. he took the hint, kneading it with just the right amount of firmness, but not without moaning lowly into your mouth. his pointer and middle fingers pulled the collar of your sweater down, breaking the kiss mind-numbingly slowly before trailing down to your neck, past your double chin, settling on the faint stretch marks adorning your shoulder. your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, an encouraging hand in his hair as your chest nearly collided with his, back arched in bliss.

you brought yourself back down to earth, hand reaching past his chest, undoing his belt. you scrambled to undo the button and zipper, escaping into his briefs. gihun let out a guttural moan into your warm skin, embarrassingly (to him) hard in your hand, breathing hard through your slow strokes. "h—h-ha ... h—ngh!" he tried to contain himself by peppering kisses onto your skin, but ended up bucking his hips up into your soft palm. you fastened your pace, fingers wrapped securely around his girthy cock, his precum wetting your hand. gihun shuddered, mouth agape and face burrowed into your clothed chest, fingers limp on your shoulder. you bit your bottom lip as you continued your ministrations, thighs rubbing together for any sort of friction. a whimper rattled out of his diaphragm when you began pumping only his tip. "i'm g-gonna pass out!" he whined. he gasped sharply when he felt something stir in his abdomen. "n-no, no—w-wait!" he suddenly moved, laying his head next to yours on the pillow. "w-wait! s-stop! i'm—" his body reacted before he did. gihun's nose brushed against your cheek, his mewls and grunts making your eyebrows knit together in a fit of awe and sexual drive you hadn't felt in years. hot spurts of cum coated his briefs and your inner wrist. you gradually came to a halt, overhearing his labored breathing.

you leaned in, softly reconnecting your lips. even in his clouded haze, gihun kissed back with intent. his hand found the hem of your pants, leaning closer to you, your free hand holding his cheek, deepening the kiss. you turned your head towards the ceiling with a sharp inhale, effectively breaking the kiss, however, when his fingers dipped between your folds. goosebumps arose on your arms underneath your sleeves, a soft hiss brewing between your teeth. "your hand is cold." you whispered. his nose pushed against your cheek, lips pressing chaste kisses onto your supple skin. "i'm sorry." he said. "i can ... i can stop." "no, it's okay. it's okay." you say breathily, closing your thighs around his wrist. gihun's jaw dropped at the sight."it'll warm up. just—just keep going." you tell him. "fuck!" his voice fought so hard to stay quiet, coming out hoarse.

your eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed. it was only every few swirls of his finger did a small gasp leave your slightly swollen lips, feeling him come closer to your clit than before. gihun was so fucking close to where you needed him to be, but not quite there. his unintentional teasing concocted the subtle yet apparent slosh of your wetness as your puffy lips encased his middle finger. you arched your back a little, hoping it would slip him into place, but to no avail. you reached for his head, fingers slipping into his hair. "gihun," you swallowed, mouth dry. "a little h-higher." "where? here?" his cock was hardening in your hand again, blurring his logic, trailing kisses up to your temple in his misunderstanding. "your hand, gihun. your f-finger." "right, right." he quickly realized. "i'm sorry."

the pad of his middle finger inched higher. the light of heaven was now in your sight. you opened your legs to allow just enough room for his wrist to fulfill your next request: "a l-little deeper, gihun. a little—f-fuck!" your gasp echoed off the walls. your hand left his hair, coming to cover your mouth, eyes barely open to look down at his hand in your pants. your wetness was blatant, the sticky sound making his cock stiffen and your vision blur. "g-gihun!" you whimpered, feeling him rubbing unrelentingly your sweet bundle of nerves. every swipe tightened the muscles of your inner thighs, toes curling in your socks. "k-keep going! keep going!" you pleaded helplessly, voice stuck at a whisper.

gihun pressed his forehead against your temple, eyes cast below with no intent of looking away. "f-fuck." he muttered under his breath, mouth agape at how he worked you. his mind became mush, marveling over your warmth and intoxicating softness. "please." he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought of how you would feel wrapped around him. his shame made him feel juvenile, embarrassed by how his thoughts were as sexually erratic when he was 21 to his now 51, but not enough to stop him from grinding his cock into your loosened grip. "p-please," he whispered to himself. "god almighty—hngh!"

you began pumping him again, your other hand going back into his hair, turning your head and kissing his lips. it was one of newfound hunger; quick yet deep; quiet but stuttered through moans and hushed whimpers. suddenly, a knot formed in your abdomen, threatening to unravel. you broke the kiss. "i'm close." your tone was so vulnerable, like you would trust him with the world. gihun opened his eyes, taking in how beautiful you looked under the lamplight, the sheerest coat of sweat glimmering off your skin. "are—ngh!—a-are you?" you asked. he felt your breath brush against his cheeks, his forehead atop yours, nodding. "y-yes. we can finish together. c'mon." he kissed your cheek and your temple. "o-okay," you said breathily, head turning towards the ceiling, feeling his lips rest against your skin. "i trust you."

before gihun could register it, you unraveled. your moans were so delicate, so gentle, descending into shudders rattling out of your chest; back arching, eyebrows turned upward in ecstasy. "i—i!" you whimpered, the feeling of his finger continuously circling your clit through your unimaginable orgasm making your sinuses loosen, tears prickling even in your tightly shut eyes. "yes! yes! y-yes!" you chanted like a prayer, pumping him whilst you rode out your high. gihun was an incoherent mess through his second orgasm, his sweaty forehead sticking to your cheek, spilling onto your wrist in finality. he felt depleted of all energy, dizzy for those first few moments whilst you laid beside each other in your respective post-orgasmic hazes, your joint-labored breathing outdoing the room's air conditioning unit.

his hand slowly pulled out of your pants, yours slipping from his briefs when he turned to lay on his back. gihun's eyes closed, lulling his heartbeat with every deep breath he took. even though your body had stilled—eyes closed, tongue running over your dried lips; trying to bring yourself back down—something stirred inside of you. your body had its release, but your heartbeat fastened for a reason you did not want to acknowledge. in fact, there could not have been a worse time than now. you hastily wiped the tear that had fallen during your orgasm, your face contorting into a near sob, almost giving in to the reality that you convinced yourself you've long accepted. but you loathed it so much, so viscerally that your temples vibrated with anger; resentment; vitriol, even. all those missed phone calls, lying texts, quiet dinners, avoidant conversations . . . now here you were, suffering the consequences the night before he's set to leave.

am i really going to cry after an orgasm? really? you thought to yourself. you knew it wasn't the truth, but you were internally fighting tooth and nail to not yield to the suffocating devastation consuming your lungs like smoke at the moment; breath stuttering through your nostrils, chest convulsing whilst you held back the tears. but then, you felt his hand ghost past yours when he fixed his posture in bed. all hell broke loose.

gihun's eyes widened when he heard you cry. his hand did not hesitate to ride up your arm; a firm, yet gentle tug at your shoulder in an attempt for your attention. "hey," he spoke softly. "what happened? is everything okay?" you cried even harder, bringing your hand to your mouth. gihun's knuckles wiped what he could reach, turning on his side to face you. his big brown eyes looked to you with the same devastation your body was currently expelling. "was it something i did?" he whispered tragically. he was afraid he overstepped a boundary tonight, the intensity of it all hitting you suddenly. but that couldn't be farther from the truth. if only you could stop crying to tell him.

you turned to look at him, pawing weakly at his chest to somehow ground yourself enough to speak. the attempt proved to be worthless, the warmth of your tears lulling you into a state of incoherence. gihun's hands came up, holding either side of your face. "what is it?" his voice was low, laced with concern and perpetual shame. "what happened, hm? you can tell me." he encouraged, fingers wiping your fresh tears, palm softly encasing your cheek afterward. "i can't stand to see you like this. please, tell me."

"i-i'm so sorry i've been so distant!" you exclaimed, your tears added an unintended tone of urgency. you looked into his eyes, shaking your head. "i'm so sorry i've b-been so mean!" "no—" gihun dismissed gently, pulling you into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you; one hand smoothening your hair, the other holding onto your hip. "it's okay. you have nothing to apologize for." he meant every word. gihun never once questioned why you acted the way you did. he's anticipated this from the moment he asked for your number that early afternoon several months ago. out of all the unpredictable variables that have unfairly cast themselves into the trajectory of his life, he could always count on his selfishness to rear its ugly face in the end. whether it be debt, addiction, or hurting the ones he loved—he bears the consequence. but some part of this makes it feel worth it, as murky as it is. "it's okay. it's okay." he hushed your cries. gihun kissed your temple tenderly. "there is nothing to be forgiven." he told you when your tears subsided, holding onto you even tighter. "you haven't done anything wrong."

after a while, you slowly sat up. gihun too, albeit cautiously, watching you wipe underneath your eyes with the back of your hand. you let out a long breath, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "i've always been such an ugly crier." you muttered. gihun exhaled through his nose, grinning. "i can never predict what's going to come out of your mouth next. no matter how hard i try." you grew flustered, an upside down grin tugging at your lips. "you missed thirty years of my life." you said. "of course you'd be a little lost."

gihun couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. comfortable silence washed over the room. your palm began to swipe back and forth on the duvet again, but your eyes were on him. avoidance wasn't in the realm of possibility anymore. it hurt, but you felt ready. "you can't die, gihun." you spoke, voice quiet, as if volume would shatter the sanctity of your oath. you looked at him as if you were the only two beings on the entire earth. "i have more food to make." his gaze did not waver. "i won't." he responded, equally gentle. "i have more to eat."

two days later, you unlocked the door, stepping into your apartment. you kicked your shoes off without a moment's hesitation, setting your purse down on the kitchen counter. the rustle of the plastic bag in your hand almost overshadowed the vibration in your pocket. fishing your phone out, you rolled your eyes at the work email notification. something regarding an ongoing project, or an upcoming meeting—you could have cared less. "it's nine fucking pm. are they this incompetent?" you muttered as you walked to the living room, clicking your phone off and setting it down on the coffee table.

the plastic bag, surprisingly, was not filled with fresh vegetables and your other go-to ingredients, but takeout. you untied the knot, opening the styrofoam containers filled with freshly-cooked fried chicken and tteokbokki, respectively. "shit," you said to yourself, getting up from the couch and scurrying to the fridge, bringing back a can of sprite to accompany the meal. you ignored the cabinet housing your tupperware, not even permitting your oven, which stored your pots and pans, in your peripheral vision. for now, and for your sanity, they were dead to you.

you ate your meal in silence. the crunch of the chicken, chewiness of the rice cake, and the fizzing of your soda kept you company. your phone lit up with emails, the news, reminders to pay bills, your paycheck hitting your bank account; you didn't waver. you did what you vowed to do for the next days, weeks, or maybe the next thirty years: waiting. for something. anything.

honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf @infinetlyforgotten

[innorogers]

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight. 

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace. 

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos. 

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking. 

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this… 

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you. 

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy. 

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity. 

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you. 

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind. 

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[repulsiveliquidation]

Masterlist.

Requests are open. If there is a WIPs you'd like to offer ideas for, feel free!

I write for Arsenal WFC and FC Barcelona Femeni, but players from other teams are more than welcome, especially those whom i've written for before. Please include your player of choice and your detailed request when you leave them in my inbox! I am not opposed to brainstorming in my DMs but please understand that I may not respond promptly but I will get back to you!

fluff = 💛, angst = 🚨, smut = 🔞

WIPs

Writer x Reader

Ewa Pajor

Glass Pane 🔞

Kika Nazareth

Playing Cards 🔞

Grace Clinton

Mikrokosmos 💛

Aggie Beever-Jones

One Thing Led To Another 🔞

Laia Codina

Reservation 🔞

Alessia Russo

Puppy Eyes 🔞

Jessie Fleming

We Might As Well Try 🔞

You Drew Stars Around My Scars 🚨🔞

Thorn in my Side 🚨

Wake Up Call 🔞

Jill Roord

The White Suit 🔞

Oral Fixation 🔞

Say Yes to Heaven 🔞

Elevators 🔞

Leila Ouahabi

Eyes on Me 🔞

Group Project [The Orgy] 🔞

Want, Not Need. Pt. 1

Want, Not Need Pt. 2

Careful Planning

Two is Better than One

Aitana Bonmatí

Ecstasy 🔞

Hope, Coffee, and Poetry 🔞

earmuffs 🚨

fidgets 💛

pretty lights 💛

lather 💛

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Baby It’s Cold Outside 🔞

Alexia Putellas x Leah Williamson

Time Consuming 🔞

Time Difference 🔞

Melted Ice Cream 🔞

Alexia Putellas x María León

Twice the Pleasure 🔞

Good Girls 🔞

María León x Ingrid Engen

Crippled 🔞

Special Instructions 🔞

Arsenal Women

Chosen Family 💛

Alexia Putellas

Dress Up 🔞

Rain 🔞

Did I Cross The Line? 🚨

For Club and Country 🔞

Impatient 🔞

Honeymoon 🔞

Scars 🚨

Broken 🚨

Claire De Lune 🚨

all the rain in the world. 🚨

Darlin' I'd Wait For You 💛

Paris 🔞

If I have to ask, I don't want it. 🚨

Fire and Ice 🔞

beige. 🔞

One Call Away 🔞

Bottom Ale 🔞

Betrayed 🔞

Show Me 🔞

Ona Batlle

Collateral 🚨🔞

without you 🚨

Too Dangerous 🔞

To Love Someone 🔞

The Best of Me 🔞

Backseat 🔞

Touchy Feely 🔞

don’t let them hear. 🔞

Angel in the House 💛

Royalty 💛

La Princesa 💛

She's going to be okay. 💛

I don't think you deserve gentle darling. 🔞

Touch me like nobody else does. 🔞

Leah Williamson

Choice 🚨

Flare Up 💛

Guardian of My Heart 🚨

Sun to Me 🚨

Alone 🚨

good excuse 🔞

When I’m with you, there is no one else because I get heaven to myself. 💛

Cookies and Cuddles 🔞

baby bear 🔞

dreams 🔞

don't wander 💛

Kiss Me Before You Go 💛

Arsenal's Number 6 🔞

Blueberry Pancakes 💛

Fore! 💛

They could never be mad at you. 💛

Nightmares and Hot Chocolate 💛

Leah Williamson x Lucy Bronze

I've got you. 💛

Georgia Stanway x Leah Williamson

I don't need you. 💛

Maya Le Tessier

I'm not sick. You're delusional. 💛

Georgia Stanway

Lazy Saturdays and Scrambled Eggs 💛

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2(here) | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |...

Masterlist

Blog Navigation

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Paimon, Traveler

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3. Also, I may say that the characters other than the reader may be a bit OOC cause it's been a long time since I played genshin and I'm just finishing all of my works with my knowledge left from playing the game. So sorry about it 🙏🙏.

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You stood, motionless, your eyes fixed in disbelief upon the distant scene before you. As the wind cut through the air, a shiver ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The purity of the air surrounded you, carrying with it an intoxicating scent that smelled pure. The warm touch of the sun's rays caressing your skin affirmed that this experience couldn't possibly be a figment of your imagination. A fleeting thought of doubt crept in, but you quickly dismissed it; after all, you had never dabbled in any kind of drugs. This moment, as unbelievable as it seems, had to be undeniably real.

With careful fingers, you gently retrieved your fallen shoe/heel/slipper from the bed of plush, emerald-green grass. As you slipped it back onto your foot, your eyes instinctively wandered upward, transfixed by the expansive stretch of blue sky above you. It was quite unlike the very bright pixelated one you see on your screen. Everything that you see within the door was real and not a nightmare.

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After composing yourself, you went inside your cafe, close the door, drag a chair nearest to the door, took a seat on the chair you placed infront of the door, and contemplated life. A deep heavy sigh got out your mouth as you continue looking the the strange thing infront of you. "What now? What do I do? Should I just lock it?" you asked yourself and looked at the door. Welp, well, there goes your master plan. Suprise suprise there's no keyhole and having a key would not make any difference. "Ugh."

You sat up and opened the door again, only to be baffled to see a different scenery other than the distant City of Mondstadt. The door was now currently in the Liyue Harbor. You closed the door and opened it again, you were now in Inazuma. Close, open, and now in Sumeru. Once again, you are now in Fontaine.

"Yeah bye." you closed the door again and returned the chair from where it once was. Contemplating what you should do next, your feet carried you around the whole café. You went to the counter and decided to make yourself something to help with calming yourself first in order to think clearly. It was a good thing that you had brought all of the materials and ingredients you needed in the café because you had thought of opening the café tomorrow. But with how things are now, you don't know what to do.

Teyvat is filled with many dangerous beings such as hilichurls, slimes, etc. You are but a normal human being with no experience in fighting and fighting your baby cousins was not enough of an experience to be able to fight toe to toe with monsters you have only seen through a screen. Yes, a gun would probably best to use but you don't have a permit for that and you don't want to be in jail when you have just barely open your dream café. But nobody had to know, right? What if-

A deep sigh fell from your lips once again. The stress is really getting in to you, huh? The bitter/sweet aroma of (coffee/tea/juice) filled your sense of smell. You were making your favorite, (your choice of coffee/tea/juice). After some time of finishing your drink, you took it along with a (pastry of your choice) that you had in your car, in which you had thought of eating to celebrate the opening, and sat in a chair facing the door. Taking your time in eating/drinking, many thoughts come and go in your head to solve the predicament you are in now. You had even thought of postponing the opening of the café until you had thought of a way on what to do with the door.

Of course you read the fanfics circulating all around the genshin fandom and one of the those that you have read was SAGAU where you might be the imposter or the creator of teyvat or you become a villain or anything in between. The most common of them was being an imposter. What if you were to become the said imposter if one day a person will open the door to your café? What if they kill you? What if-

*creak......*

Your rambling came to a stop as you looked at the door horrified. Oh no no no no no no NO NO NO! YOU JINXED YOURSELF DIDN'T YOU?! THIS DAMNED FATE-

'Oh dear God, Buddha, Allah, Deities, whoever higher being there is, pls help me...' you thought as you clasp your hands, praying to higher beings. Before you could even feel it, tears cascaded down you face to the table. "I'm nOt ReAdy tO dIE yeT... Ughhhhhhhh" you sobbed into your hands loudly like a child lost in a mall.

"Hello?" a person peaked from behind the door.

Fuck.

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The Traveler, along with Paimon, was doing their daily quests until they saw something shining in the far distance. Their curiousity made them want to investigate it.

"Hm. Why is a door in the middle of the forest with no support or whatsoever?" Paimon mumbled as the door came into their view. The Traveler also had the same thought.

"Is it perhaps a magic door of some kind? I think w-"

*creak*

The Traveler stopped speaking as the door opened but from where they are right now, they couldn't see who opened the door and couldn't get to ask since the door closed with a loud bang when they were going to get closer.

"Well... that was something..." Paimon looked at the Traveler. "Traveler? What's wrong? BREATHE! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE AT THIS RATE!" Paimon brought tons of fried egg out of the Traveler's bag and smacked it into the Traveler's mouth and forced them to chew the egg.

After confirming the Traveler is back into top condition, Paimon asked them what the hell happened to them.

"I-I don't know. I suddenly felt something when whoever opened that door and the air around me became heavy that it became hard to breathe..." The Traveler shooked their head gently and sighed. "I also felt something strange. The energy of whoever is beyond that door, excluded an aura that is very familiar to me, but I don't know who or what it is."

"Hm. Paimon thinks that we should open that door and see whoever that and see if they truly are familiar to you or maybe perhaps this connection that you feel is related to your sibling!" Paimon twirled around the air, exaggerating her words with her actions.

For once, Traveler thought it was a good idea at first but there is also a flaw in that idea. A flaw that might cause their life if whoever is beyond that door is hostile and will kill them. It is better to be cautious then to be 6ft underground before finding their sibling.

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