#but sorry some things haunt me so heres me getting those ghosts off my chest. again

[iridescene]

I turn 25 on Thursday...

[blingblong55]

Christmas Kids-Simon "Ghost" Riley

Not a request but this idea is inspired by @suimon 's post ---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship, fluff, comfort?, childhood best friend!Simon, civilian!reader ---- also this specific verse from christmas kids you'll change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but i'll know, i'll know is SOOOOOOO childhood friends with simon coded. especially when you see him again after years and years thinking he died with his family

A/N: Simon is 35 in this and you're 34...and it might be slightly different from this idea

It's been twelve years since you last saw Simon. Two teens, Manchester and some booze. That is the last thing and place you remember from that night. 

You and him met because of your mums, they went to the same schools and so did Simon and you. It was like a movie, two best friends who have known each other since birth. Now all you have of him is a faint memory. He and his family died when you were around 22. It was the news of the city. 

"Mum, please tell me this is a lie," you cry and all she does is give you that look. "I'm sorry, love." The tears, the ache in the chest, it's all engraved in you. 

A knock on the door at two in the morning. 

"Never open the door to strangers," Simon reminds you. "But how will I know it's you?" He chuckles, "I'll use our whistle," he simply says and you nod. 

A knock and a whistle at two in the morning. You go pale. No, it can't be, he– he died, he's been dead for so long. Stupid nightmare, get me out of here. 

Another whistle, waiting for your response. 

You whistle back and get close to the door. You can feel the presence. It's there. He's there. That kid you ran the street with, the guy who took you home after one too many drinks. The stupid jokes and the constant lessons of life. "Simon?" 

"Please open, it's cold," his voice hoarse and once that door opens, a flood of memories comes through. 

His face is bruised, clothes are torn, blood is on them and the faint smell of his cologne is there. The rain filled the silence of the night. Police cars are in the background and he smiles at you. Once he stepped inside, it was a new man who did it, not your Simon. this man was taller, broader, he had tattoos and well...all that blood and those bags under his eyes. 

"You–you were dead, they...they recovered your body and–"

"I faked my death," he was breathless and you guided him to the stool of the kitchen. 

When your mum passed away, you were 27, that is when you needed him the most. Who else to give you a shit joke if not him? And now seven years later and here you are, waiting for a shit joke. 

"Your dad–"

"I know." he cuts you off. He needs no mention of that man, not ever. 

"If you faked your death then, does this mean they are all still alive?"

"No, I couldn't save them," he breaks down, finally. 

All this time, he played Ghost. The man, the myth and a persona that everyone saw as a tough and cold man. When he is here, in your presence, he is that 23-year-old who saw his family dead. He is the same man who cried to you. You were home to this soldier, the last home he had. You hug him and in that second, he turns into a child in need of his mummy and need of desperate comfort. For years he has been running away from the past, of that night and you. 

To be in the presence of the man he is, that is fear but to be in the home of the one person who knows who he is past the mask, is a nightmare. 

"I don't want to!" Simon cried to his father as he got the snake closer to him. 

"Dad, stop this isn't right." The same night when he was told to laugh at a woman who had passed out on the floor. 

But, you know what they say, Dead will follow, Dead won't leave, Dead won't rise, Dead and Gone all this except Simon Riley, he stays like the ghost he is. Now, he is a man who let all of his terrors catch up to him and as they haunt his head, he clings to you. 

In his head, his life flashes. From laughing with Tommy, getting scared by a skull mask, running in the streets with you, leaving Manchester, joining the military, the SAS, getting SA'D, hanging by his rib, crawling from a tomb, having dead friends, having a dead family, Task Force 141 and losing himself to Makarov and now, here he is, crying in a kitchen. If only his father would see him, he'd know his son is nothing but a bastard and a coward. 

"Simon?" Your voice breaks his trance and he looks up. "I'm lost, I don't know who I am anymore," he cries and in that instant, you see him. You see his past and the present. A frown forms on your lips, "What did they do to you?" your hands holding his face and all he can do is lean into that touch. "I'm dead, I'm nothing but a senseless killer," was the description he gave himself. 

In the world of Simon Joseph Riley, he was nothing but a cold-blooded killer, an apparition of his old self who was only meant to kill. 

As the night became morning, he said it all. From when he left to how he found himself at your door. Your heart broke more and more, he was the shell of a man. Nothing but a life of misery left in that stare he gives you. Simon knows he has nothing left for him. You on the other hand are the hidden treasure he left for when needed. 

His whole life– well, ever since the death of his family, he's been running away from the shadows and now he's running away from the military. With his captain being called a general killer, his friend Soap dead, and his friend Gaz lost, you are the last thing a man like him has. Tucked in a corner, the faint of the memory, that is what he has. 

"Please don't turn me in, they'll hurt me again," he cries. Those tears are not just from his current exhaustion, but from all the years he denied the feeling of regret and sadness. Sure he was forced to go to a therapist but after the first one was killed, who else could he trust?

"I'm scared, I'm so scared," he confesses and for the first time in his life, he does feel fear. He saw the shadow of fear when Soap was nearly caught and possibly killed by Shadow Company but he knows fear when all he has is you and the blood that drips from his wounds. "Simon-"

"I miss them, I miss them all, I missed you and I miss being normal," he cups your face and looks deep into your eyes. "Help me, please...I- I need to find myself again." Suddenly he was back at the park you two grew up in. 

"R/N!" His eyes with tears. His father must've scared him again, you thought. "Over here, Simon!" you wave your hand and you see him sigh in relief as he runs to you. His arms wrap around you as he once more confesses how his father hurt him. 

"Let's fix you up and maybe we'll head to the park," you suggest and he nods desperately. "Please, yes, let's do that."

Now, three weeks later, you find yourself hiding him from the world. Task Force 141 was deemed as a danger to others. 

Simon Joseph "Ghost" Riley, is no longer a danger to himself or others. He stares at the moon as he looks out the window, your cat on his lap, purring because they both found comfort in each other. He knows he lived through it, to get to this moment and he'll do anything to finally call a place home. 

A/N: Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers also inspired me, you can tell...

Tags: @fake-id-69 @stick-the-dumbass @uraritychain @aalxrose @prettyoatmeal @elowynnlane @infpt-zylith @dakaraissoisso @homicidal-slvt @honestlyhiswife @madsdawson @joyfulmarvelofavengers @qxclamation @nunezr29 @scoobysnakz @iruzias @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @nobodys-coffee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely

[crystaiskiess]

Okay, first, I had planned to post something today in honor of s3 (!!!) (another one of those scene + show edits) but didn’t have the time, but I’m going to make one like this week (maybe end up using scenes from this chapter because aaaa).  Second, I have so many thoughts about this chapter that I’m going to leave a comment on it on ao3.  So, here are my aaaaa thoughts and my ao3 comment will probably actually sound coherent lol.

The relationships!!!  I love how you write relationships in their complexities.  Morgana and Arthur’s relationship being a focus in this really fits, especially the difference in the beginning versus the end.

All he could feel was her absence. They were like two pieces of cotton woven to make a string, his life does not exist if not alongside hers. Even when they were not directly interacting he would see her at every moment throughout the day. Now, her empty seat at dinner seems to dominate the space, consuming his attention, memories of her in the halls and his chambers haunt him like a ghost. The one time he dared to go to her chambers the emptiness felt like an aching wound. Morgana entered his life when he was five years old, he doesn’t know a time when she wasn’t in the castle with him. She has always been a sister to him, and he misses her like a limb.

That being in the first four paragraphs, god my heart was being torn out of my chest already.  I knew the chapter would hurt, but I hadn’t been expecting it to hurt that fast.  I sat down, finally able to read after running errands, and was immediately kicked in the chest at full force.  Then we have Morgana’s perspective later, and once again, kicked in the chest.

Morgana looks up from the cauldron with a start. “Not Arthur.”

That one line had me have to stop for a second because I love the dynamic.  They love each other so very dearly that they see each other as siblings without even knowing they’re siblings.  Often times, we don’t get to see that explored in fics because it’s kind of hard to know in canon.  Or at least my opinion because we don’t understand if Morgana has entirely changed or there’s still some “good” (for a lack of a better word) left in her.

I will say that Gwen’s pov of Morgana actually made me want to sob.  Honestly, your writing just makes me feel all the emotions of the characters, so it’s not surprising that they’re in some distress that I’m in distress.  As I’ve said before, you have such a strength in emotion writing.  If you have any tips, please share because I’m always blown away every time I read OAFK (which has been several times). 

Where Gwen had once kept careful distance, Morgana pulled her in with both hands into her open arms. They grew beyond the role of maid and mistress, developing a true friendship that Gwen cherishes more than most other things in her life.

I’m trying to not like quote it too much, because it makes these get so long but it’s these two sentences that just started off their established relationship and getting ready to see what it is now.  Also, the knowledge of how Morgana feels/felt for Gwen doesn’t make it hurt but does at the same time.  I’m pretty sure it’s chapter nine where we’re introduced to Morgana’s love for Gwen, but it’s chapter thirteen where she thinks that Gwen knows she loves her (or maybe I misinterpreted that).  They both love each other so deeply, regardless of if in different ways, and seeing that fall apart a little just hurts.  It hurts Gwen, so it hurts me.

I have many thoughts and feelings about Morgana and Merlin, but that will make this probably 2k+ words long, and I’ll just do it in a comment on the chapter!  Also, do not feel bad about changing the update schedule!!!  You take the time you need to update!  There’s nearly 300k words currently, we can just reread it a million times.  It’s fun because you get to see more and more details every time!

HELLO !! im so sorry it took me so long to get to this, i read it immediately but it made me so happy i truly didn't know how to respond (also genuinely squealed over your ao3 comment too, you dont know how much it means to read analysis about my work i love it so much thank you)

morgana and arthur's dynamic is truly one of the most important things to me so im so glad you enjoyed this chapter and how i addressed them, i feel like the idea of her turning truly on arthur seems impossible to me when he technically had done nothing to her yet to make her feel betrayed, so it was important to me to show how much they love each other (this may come to hurt teehee)

and yes gwen and morgana !!!! the tragedy of what happens to them shouldnt be overlooked and there's absolutely more of that to come so look forward to that 👀

and thank you for your kind words about the update schedule !! it means a lot, it wasn't my ideal situation but id much rather continue posting regularly and just more spaced apart than have to hiatus so its the way it has to be !!

seriously thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind comments and all your thoughts i keep coming back to them it just makes me so happy !! and thank you again for reading !!

[murphy-kitt]

hourglass of lies - Day 2/3 Dannymay

Time is running out.

Danny can’t help the dread in his stomach that grows deeper as the end of high school draws near. The fact that he might not even graduate with how awful his grades are barely even scratches the surface.

It’s college.

Away from Amity, his haunt. Who’ll protect the city from ghost invasions if he’s not there? His parents, as much as he loves them, are better at creating the weapons than actually using them. Valerie? Too trigger friendly with a gun. One wrong shot and it’s over.

Away from everyone he knows, loves. Who he was once close to before the portal accident shattered everything.

Once college begins, he’ll most likely never see them again. Why would Sam and Tucker want to remain in contact when he’s done nothing but given them hapless excuses in the past three years?

“Well…this is it.” He takes a deep breath, hovering awkwardly outside the classroom which Sam and Tucker normally inhabit every lunchtime. Even though the corridors are vacant of prying eyes, Danny still feels embarrassment rise in his stomach.

Come on, Fenton. You can do it.

“I can totally do this.” Danny chants in some attempt at reassurance, grasping the door handle, “I can totally tell my friends my biggest secret that I’ve never told anyone else.”

Because that’s the only option he really has — if he wants to save this friendship.

With another resigned breath, he tugs at the door, winging it wide open. On the other side, Sam and Tucker whip around, faces cast with shock before they drop in awkward grimaces.

“Mind if I join you?” He trails off awkwardly, arms hugging his chest at Sam’s disapproving expression.

He can’t blame her. Three years of silence and now he wants to talk.

“Yes.” she says, voice like ice.

Tucker shifts uncomfortably beside him as Danny sits down across from the two and fumbles with his hands awkwardly.

"I'm--"

"Sorry? Danny, just--don’t. You've apologised enough over the years. But you never told us why." Sam sighs, placing her arms on her lap.

His former friends' expressions read enough. They’re fed up.

So am I.

“And then you started drifting…and we didn’t know why. Was it us? Are you in something bad?” questions Tucker, although his expression reads as if he’s not expecting an actual answer. Another bunch of lies.

“No! No!” Danny shakes his head, “It was never you guys. Always me.”

“If it’s not us, then what is it?”

Sam pushes, gaze hardening.

Danny flinches beneath the scrutiny. All the boundaries he's built over the years, they'll all be gone. The first people to know who he truly is.

"Depending how you look at it...I did get into something bad. When we were fourteen." He stutters, choosing to look at the table instead of their wary gazes.

"What-what do you mean?" responds Sam, a sliver of concern seeping into her tone. Her eyes narrow, "Something bad? What was it?"

"Remember when my parents built the--they built the ghost portal?"

"What?! Dude, you're terrified of the things!" outbursts Tucker, confusion scrawling on his face as he intertwines his fingers, "I--I don't get how those two relate."

Of course. They’ve both fallen for the pitiful facade of him being scared of ghosts. Ironic, in a way.

Silence fills the tension as Danny wonders how to even explain. How does he even begin to explain that he’s moonlighting as the town's ghostly hero? And, yknow, died.

“It’s gonna be over soon… high school. Everyone’s going away.” The teenager mumbles, ignoring the clearly confused looks on his former friend's faces.

“Is this what it’s always been about…the future?” Sam considers, tilting her head.

He only shrugs.

“Well once college starts…I just hope Amity can stay safe.”

“We’ll have Phantom, though.” remarks Tucker, pushing his glasses up his face.

I wish. If only I could stay.

“Phantom...” Danny drifts off, deep in a haze of thought, “I wonder what’ll happen if I stay from Amity for too long.”

His core feels heavy in his chest, like it already knows the answer. But he can’t just stay cooped up here forever, no matter how much the ghost side might want too. Ectoplasm zaps through his veins at the slightest indication of his obsession.

“Danny?” Sam hesitates, her voice funny.

He snaps out of the trance.

Oh, right.

“Yeah?” He stares at his friends, unable to miss the way their faces blanch with what…horror? Quickly, Danny checks his hands, making sure he hasn’t accidentally transformed.

Still the same pallid, cold human skin.

Then what is it?

“What’s the weird stare for?” He licks his lips, feeling strangely vulnerable under their suspicious looks. Three years ago, it never would’ve been like this.

Suddenly, Sam’s hands clamp to his shoulders, tugging him forward as he suppresses a yelp.

Terror jolts inside him. They’ve figured it out haven’t they? Even without the transformation after all this time, they’ve figured it out. Or maybe they knew the whole time and never got the chance to say.

Either way, what’ll follow won’t be pretty.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—“

“Get out of our friend!—“ Sam cuts him off furiously, her voice fiery as she rattled his skinny frame, “You say you’re a good ghost— and this whole time you’ve been overshadowing Danny. Three. Whole. Years! No wonder he’s never been himself.”

“Get out of him—” grits Tucker, in the angriest tone he’s ever heard as he displays his PDA, “—or I won’t be afraid to ship you off to the Fenton’s.”

Some sort of weird pride bubbles in Danny’s chest. Even after all this..mess..they’re still willing to stand up for him, to fight for him.

It’d be great…if they weren’t currently thinking he was overshadowed by himself.

I do wonder what made them suddenly snap, though?

“You don’t get it!” He stammers, trying to wrestle out of Sam’s iron like grip as she glares at him. The goth doesn’t say anything, just simply stares at her. Revolt scarred upon her face, such a deep hatred buried in her eyes.

He imagines it upon her face when she finds out the truth. Who he really is.

“What – we don’t get how you’ve been using our friend as a human meat puppet for the last three years?!” snaps Tucker as he frowns and point towards his eyes, “We’ve caught you. You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? But no. Danny’s eyes are blue. Not green. ”

“You really have to wonder how the Fentons missed it. Ghost hunters. Their own son, controlled by—“ Sam speaks, addressing Tucker before staring icily back at Danny, “—a parasite.”

“Trust me, I wonder that too.” He quips automatically, unable to stop the words flowing back. If Danny was able to, he’d facepalm.

Seconds pass, the grip on his shoulders tighten. Tucker begins typing a combination of numbers on his PDA — a familiar number. The Fenton’s.

“No!”

“What? Desperate now that you’ve been caught, Phantom?” Sam spits.

Danny shakes his head. Anxiety piles on his chest as the secrets prepare to uncoil. There’s no choice — this is it.

Three years.

“I’m Phantom!” He blurts, ignoring the ‘ duh ’ expressions from the other teens, “I’m Danny, too! I’m the same! Danny Fenton — Danny Phantom. Don’t you see?”

From the way Sam releases his shoulders on how Tucker gapes like a goldfish, Danny doubts they’ve ever seen the similarities between the two names. Or rather, they’re more shocked at the confession. Or both.

Silence overcasts the room, Sam full of tension, as if she expects something ghostly to happen at any given point. Tucker simply remains subdued, his eyes misty.

Finally, he speaks.

“You’re—you’re dead.”

“Uh…” Danny hesitates, hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Lies upon lies torrent in his mind, a familiar routine to barricade himself away from prying eyes.

“The truth.” Sam’s eyes narrow as Tucker subsequently nods.

Sighing, Danny only nods in response, bracing as the halo of light appears around his waist. There’s an instinct to run and hide, after all, he’s never transformed in front of anyone before.

“I’m sorry that I never told you. But I had to – before I lost you guys forever in college.” He swallows nervously, not oblivious to the shocked gasps as the rings wash up the rest of his body.

“The—you.” Tucker rambles, before quieting, “You died.”

He winces, “Yup. Noted, thanks.”

“God, Danny.” Sam reached forward and places a hesitant on his shoulder, as if he’s not real, “When? What? How?”

”When I was fourteen. Electrocution.” he states, but doesn’t clarify. Thankfully, Sam and Tucker don’t ask him to elaborate— a relieving contrast to the amount of citizens who demand to know how he died.

“The whole time we pushed and pushed you to tell us, it was because you’d fucking died. Why’d—why’d you let us Danny? Why? You shouldve said something. We could've helped.” hiccups Sam, her eyes misty with guilt.

She regrets snapping at me. But Danny can’t blame her for past actions. He’d never told them and deliberately avoided them time and time again. A ticking time bomb before it finally ended and both his best friends ended up sitting in a separate classroom to eat lunch.

“Well…I’ve told you now. No going back on that.” He shakes his head, a small smile his face despite their upset ones, “And I’m glad I did. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know — and I was too scared to say anything.”

”But the whole…dead thing.” Tucker lisps, apparently having not processed it yet, “Your parents— they hunt you! Dude you died and didn’t say anything.”

”Well technically I’m only half dead.” shrugs Danny, as if it’s the most casual thing on the planet. Another set of shocked looks from Sam and Tucker follow.

”Half? How only half?” exclaims Tucker, “Dude! I mean it’s better then being fully dead…but still.”

”And he’s right.” inputs Sam, “Your parents hunt you, Danny.”

”Well see, that’s what I was going to do next.” Danny hesitates, looking down at his feet. Telling his parents will be another hurdle, but this time he’ll have his friends with him.

”But I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

”We’ll be there.” affirms Sam, a smile on her face, “So much has happened already, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start again.”

”We’ll be there.” smiles Tucker, “And if they do reject you, then you know we’ll be having none of it.”

Smiling, Danny chuckles.

”Thanks guys. I don’t know how I did it without you.”

A tiny nagging echoes in his head. What couldve happened if he’d told them, way back when? How would things have been different?

But he shouldn't dwell on what could've been, on decision that’ve already been made in the past.

Because now there’s a new future to look forward to — with both best friends by his side.

[momolady]

Tiefling Boyfriend: Leary

He was a tiefling, she was a girl, she was also on a bad date.

Female Human x Male Monster Narrator (both cis)

When I took a job as a waiter, I was hoping to learn about the kitchen, because I wanted to be a chef. Instead, I learned that being a waiter was like working retail but with more steps. If I didn’t have bills, I would have quit a long time ago. Tips are usually good, but aside from those and free food the work is draining.

On my days off I’m usually holed up in my apartment, undressed, unwashed, and slouched on the sofa, or over the stove where I am practicing. I still want to be a chef, even after everything I’ve gone through. I love to cook, and maybe one day I can have my own little food truck or cafe, nothing grand like the place I work at. After working there, the idea of having a big restaurant has lost its appeal. Besides, the things I like to cook would be better in the small, outdoor kind of place anyway.

Whatever I cook, I usually leave for my roommate, or at least I think I still have a roommate. We work such opposite hours that I rarely ever see him. I like to pretend my apartment is haunted, and the ghost is eating the food and leaving me uplifting notes on the fridge. I miss having someone to talk to who isn’t part of the restaurant scene.

Tonight the restaurant is a little slow, so I’m not running around as much. I have a few tables, and I’m trying to pay as much attention to them as possible so the tips will make up for the lack of seats filled. One such table looks to be a first date. First dates are pretty easy to gauge, because one or both parties are usually nervous, one person often does all the talking, and there are long, awkward silences.

This date is one of the most one-sided I’ve ever seen. You look so nervous, like you’re trying to disarm a bomb. Your hair is done so nicely, your makeup is impeccable, and you’re wearing a really lovely dress. The guy you’re with has done nothing but talk all evening the flapping of his mouth diminishes his good looks. When I take your order, you’re getting ready to order the bisque, but he interjects and says something that will never fail to repulse me. “I think you should have the salad. Don’t you think that’s better for you?”

The look on your face is enough. You agree to the salad, but your look of disappointment doesn’t fade. If anything, it only gets worse as the date goes on. Every time I go to the table to check on you, your date is talking sideways out of his mouth about you. The needling comments annoy me, so I can’t imagine what they’re doing to you. “You really have a pretty face, you know? Your grandmother was so right about that. If you lost some weight, you’d be unstoppable.” That makes my blood curdle. I was pretty chubby in my youth, and the amount of times that was said to me made me want to remain chubby. It isn’t his right to comment on such things.

“I don’t have an issue with big girls. I think they’re great.” I don’t have an issue with my foot up his ass, but he might. Your smile at him is painful. You’re putting up with this so well, but you don’t need to!

“If you dyed your hair you wouldn’t look so frumpy.”

What the fuck? I’ve had enough. When I go to fill his wine glass, I knock it over ‘accidentally’. It’s not a skill I like to boast about, and I rarely ever have to use it, but sometimes you deal with a diner who is so vile they deserve a stained lap. The glass falls directly onto his chest, and he shouts and stands up, looking at me like I’m the most reprehensible thing on the planet. Maybe I am, but I still feel higher than him. “You stupid…” He scoffs and tries to wipe himself dry. “What the hell are you doing?”

“So sorry, sir! It was an accident. I’ll clean up here if you want to go to the bathroom.” I point towards the back. I don’t make it a point to lie often, but the situation called for it.

He slams down the napkin on the table. “I’ll see your manager when I get back.”

I make a face at his back, then quickly turn to you. “Would you like to run away?”

Your eyes widen and you pout slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Now is your chance to run,” I whisper. “There’s a line for the bathroom, so he’ll be busy for a while.”

Your expression shifts from surprise to fear. “He’s my ride, though.”

I don’t think I could stand thinking about him taking you home. “I’ll take you home,” I offer. Then I extend my hand. “I’m Leary.”

You take my hand, shaking gently. “I remember,” you say with a small smile. Then you introduce yourself. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m going to worry. You look miserable, and you have since you walked in. No offense if you like this guy…”

“I don’t,” you interject quickly. “My grandmother set us up. She likes him.”

“Then there is no reason to be polite,” I say with a smile. “I can get someone to cover for me, since it’s slow.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you answer quietly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go home and never have to call him again.”

I can’t help but frown. The way this guy has gone on tonight, leaving him alone with you makes me worry. “You look too nice to waste the evening on him. Just letting you know that.” I finish cleaning up the table. “Time is precious, so don’t let him squander it.”

Your cheeks become rosy and you smile shyly up at me. “Thank you.”

I smile warmly in return. “You deserve to hear it. Don’t thank me.”

You glance back towards the bathrooms. “Maybe you should get your manager, so he won’t be so upset when he comes back.”

My grin grows. “Not to worry. I’m the manager tonight.”

You bite down on your lip to keep from giggling. I wink at you. “I’ll be right back with your complimentary dessert.” I go back to the kitchen with the dirty dishes and the towels I used to mop up the wine and plate two desserts, rolling my eyes already at what your date will say. But I’m prepared, and if he dares to cause any more trouble, I have backup, because the owner is the chef as well as my friend.

“Here you are.” I lay down the plates on the table. The jerk hasn’t returned yet, but I can hear the bathroom door slam open as I place the decadent cheesecake before you.

“My favorite!” you say excitedly. I know a salad isn’t the most filling dinner, so I can tell you’re excited for something else

“It’s not much, but it’s the best I can…”

“No,” the jerk huffs as he storms up upon the table. “Take those away.”

I look at you, then back at him. “They’re complimentary, though.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he sniffs. “I want to see the manager.”

I nod. “That’s me.”

The guy looks flustered for the briefest of seconds, then starts to laugh. “I know this scam. I’ve seen the memes. Seriously, I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.”

“That’s me,” I say again. “And I’m giving you complimentary dessert.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he repeats.

“No one does, it’s dessert. It’s just nice.” I’m ready to throw hands with this boy. I bite my tongue to keep composure. “If you want something else, I’ll get you something else.”

“Don’t you have anything with fruit for her?”

I place a fork near her. “There’s more raspberries on the plate than cheesecake.”

Your date scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We don’t want your pity desserts.”

“I want it,” you say shyly.

He barely looks at you. He’s still glaring at me. “We’re leaving. I’m not spending another second here.” He tugs at your arm. “Let’s go.”

“Ow!” you yelp.

He lets go of your arm. “Then get up.”

I move beside you. “Then go.”

Your date stares at me like I’m crazy, then just scoffs and leaves without another word. I make sure he’s gone, then tend to you. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

You’re rubbing your arm where he grabbed you. “Yeah. I already had a scratch there, so that’s why I yelled. I accidentally ran into a cactus this morning.” You look near tears, but you smile anyway.

I sigh with relief. “Eat your dessert, and take your time. I’ll bring you some coffee if you like.”

You nod. “Just a small one, though. Thank you.”

Someone who saw the whole event pays for your half of the dinner, which was so nice. And since he stormed out without paying, that meant we could refuse him service later. A small win. I brought you coffee and offered to call you a car to take you home.

“Thank you Leary. You’ve been so nice,” you say as you get up to leave. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

I would ask for a date, but I don’t think that’s what you need right now. “I just wanted to help. I don’t need any sort of thanks.”

Your smile is so sweet, and when you touch my hand to give it a squeeze I can still smell the raspberries on you. You leave, and I think that’s the end of it. Maybe I’ll see you again one day, and maybe I won’t. But the next evening, I’m going over the schedule at the bar when, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walk in. “I’ll be with you in just a second,” I say.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to stop in and thank you again.” It’s you, carrying a potted plant that has a big blue ribbon tied around it, and you look very pleased with yourself.

“Oh, hey,” I say in amazement. “It’s you again. How did you rnight go?”

“He’s been texting me a lot, but I’ve just been ignoring him.” You set the potted plant on the bar. “I wanted to thank you properly, so I brought you this. It’s an aloe plant.”

“Oh, thank you,” I pull the aloe closer to me. “I’ve been wanting to get a plant for the apartment.”

Your cheeks turn bright red. “The leaves reminded me of the shape of your ears. But it’s also easy to take care of!”

It’s so cute I can’t stand it. “Thank you,” I say again, unable to think of anything else. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I wanted to, though. You were so nice last night.” You press your lips together tightly. “If you have any questions about taking care of it, I put the card for the nursery on the side. I… I also wrote my number on the back, if texting is easier.”

My eyes widen. “Oh! Okay, sure!”

“You’re probably busy. I’ll let you get back to work.” You turn at the door to wave. “Have a good evening!”

I quickly take the card and see your number written along the back. I place it into my pocket for safekeeping, then leave the aloe in the breakroom with my things. I want the night to be over with, not just because I have the day off tomorrow, but so I can send you a message. During a break, I put your number into my phone and send a quick message. “Hey, this is Leary, the waiter. Thanks for the aloe again. Should I put it in sunlight when I get home?”

“That’d be best, but aloe is pretty easy to take care of.” Your reply is swift.

“Okay, good to know.” I answer just as fast. “Is that creep still messaging you?”

“I blocked him, so I don’t know.”

“If he tries to cause any problems, tell me and I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t think he will, but thank you.”

Over the next few days, we text back and forth pretty regularly. You work at a nursery, so you often send me pictures of plants you’re working with during the day. I send you updates about the aloe, and I tell you about my dream of being a chef. You tell me your dream of eventually expanding the nursery and starting a honeybee sanctuary.

This goes on and on until one night, I work up the courage to ask you out. “I’m off next Thursday. I was wondering if you’d like to do something. Maybe go see a movie? Hang out? I’d really like to see you.”

“That would be great! I’m off, too. The nursery is closed on Thursdays, so I’m free all day. I’d like to see you too, Leary.”

I leap up excitedly. “Okay! Where would you like to meet up?”

“I need to do some grocery shopping. Maybe we could meet up after that at Monday Cafe.”

“I need to get a few things, too. Why not just meet at the grocery store?”

Usually you reply so fast, but this time I see the ellipses bob along for a while. Your reply eventually pops up. “Okay. Let’s say at nine? They have that little coffee stand inside, so we can meet there.”

“Okay, perfect! Can’t wait.” I really can’t, and my tail is wagging up a storm.

I head out the next morning, having gotten up early to fret over how to do my hair and what to wear. I settle on a red flannel shirt and jeans, since it’s supposed to be a touch chilly. And unusually, I leave my hair down. I haven’t had it down in ages and had forgotten how long it is. I set out, hoping to get to the coffee stand early so I can buy your drink, but to my surprise I find you there already with two cups in hand.

“I just guessed what you’d like.” You offer me the warm cup.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I protest. “I was going to.”

Your smile is cute. “I still feel like I owe you from saving me from that horrible date. Not to mention I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, Leary.”

I love hearing you say my name. “I’ve enjoyed talking to you too. It’s been a nice change of pace for me.”

We get to shopping, and you ask me about my choice of recipes and ingredients. “I’m not the best cook,” you admit. “Most of the time I just throw rice and a veggie into the rice cooker.”

“I like comfort foods. Things that make you feel warm and cozy when you eat them.” I inspect some bell peppers before throwing them into a bag. “I’d be happy to show you sometime.”

“I’d like that.” You walk along beside me as I push the cart. “I’ve been trying to eat healthier lately.”

“That’s good!”

“But the other night really just…” You stop and frown, gazing off into the distance. “I felt like I’d been doing so well. I was eating better. I was walking more. I felt confident, and then…”

I scoff. “I know. That jerk opened his mouth.”

“I like salads,” you mutter. “But I was going out, and I wanted something more than that. It was a treat, I thought.”

“You don’t have to explain to me. That jerk had no right talking to you the way he did.” I smile at you. “I think you’re adorable, no matter what.”

Your cheeks redden and you look aside with a sweet smile. “You’re pretty cute yourself.”

My tail flicks behind me. “You’re going to make me turn purple!”

“I like your hair down, by the way,” you say softly. “It’s pretty.”

“I can let you play with it, if you want,” I tease.

You giggle and playfully shove me. “Maybe.” You stand closer to me as we shop, something that makes me feel warm and excited.

After we leave the store, I help you unload groceries at your house. I don’t have much, so I keep my things in your fridge until we go to see the movie. Or at least, that’s the plan. We end up lingering at your place, you show me all your plants, and we talk on your veranda for a long time. We sit close together, and as a chilly wind blows I put my arm around you to keep you warm. We go quiet, and there’s a nervousness I recognize from the restaurant. It’s an excited and eager one where both have everything to say, but no idea how to begin.

“You smell nice,” you say quietly.

“Thanks, I bathed.” I instantly hate myself. I look down to see you smiling shyly. I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Our eyes meet, and we’re both suddenly shy and so awkward. I lean in, and you close your eyes. Your lips are so warm, so soft, and your hand presses against my chest before slowly moving up to touch my face.

“Wow,” you breathe as we pull apart. “Your hair is really, really soft.”

I chuckle and kiss your cheek. “I buy expensive conditioner.”

You giggle and reach for another kiss, which I happily deliver. “I think we missed the movie,” you pant.

“That’s okay. There will be more. I like it here much better anyways.”

You snuggle back against my chest. “Me too.”

From then on I try to schedule every Thursday off so I can spend it with you. It doesn’t always work, but we often find ourselves at each other’s places. You stay up late some evenings so we can spend a couple of hours together, and I wake up early on some days so we can have breakfast before you go to work. It’s nice, having these moments together, even if they are too brief. We even trade keys, which is an exciting development for me.

One morning, I wake up as you crawl into bed with me. You're chilled from the outside, but you feel so good snuggled up beside me. “Good morning,” you coo sweetly.

“Good morning indeed.” I wrap my arms around you and kiss the top of your head. “I should go put on some pants.” I offer.

“It’s okay. I like your cute panties,” you tease as you kiss my cheek.

I kiss you back. “I just want to remain a gentleman, and I feel I can’t do that when you do see my panties.”

You shyly hide your face against my neck and hair. “What if I showed you mine?”

How dare you say something so provocative in such a sweet, adorable way? You want to kill me, don’t you? I breathe to calm myself. “Th-that’s all up to you, babe. If you want to, go ahead. If you don’t, I’m happy anyway.”

You sit up, pulling off your leggings then slowly, shyly, removing your dress. Your body is soft and plump, and your underwear matches. You must have been planning this! My heart stops beating, and my blood all rushes to my face. The soft seafoam green you’re wearing is my favorite color. You know this, too. Your skin is so soft against mine as you lie down beside me, nervous but proud of yourself. I touch you, running my long fingers over your skin. I remember how to breathe, and I take a deep one to center myself.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur. “You look amazing.”

“Not really. The bra sort of pinches.” You keep your face hidden, but your leg hooks around mine. Your skin is silky, and you’ve shaved and buttered up with coconut lotion.

“Would you rather I pinch?” I ask teasingly.

You giggle and finally peer up at me. “I wanted to spend a nice morning with you. But I know you’re working this evening, so…” Your thoughts trail off before you clear your throat to bring yourself back to them. “I know you need to sleep.”

I lie you down on your back and move on top of you. I kiss you and touch you, running my hands down your body. “I want you more.”

You gulp and turn your head to the side, allowing me access to the skin of your neck and shoulder. I lick there, and you whimper softly. I gently bite at your earlobe and a soft breath escapes your lips. “Look at me.” My lips brush against your ear. “Let me see your face.”

You move slowly, but your eyes focus on me. You blink rapidly for a moment, then place your hands upon my body. “Your skin is so beautiful. You’re like a sapphire.”

My hair falls off my back and cascades down. Your fingers tangle in it for a moment, gently tugging to pull me down for a kiss. It becomes hot and heavy, and I lose my breath a few times when your tongue touches mine. I want to make you feel the way I did. I want to make you feel divine. I look into your eyes and smooth your hair from your face. “I have a rather naughty idea,” I chuckle. “But I need your permission.”

You swallow hard and nod. “What is it?”

I press my lips to your ear again. “I want to eat you until you come.”

Your hands squeeze tight around my arms. “You don’t have to do that!”

I kiss your cheek and neck. “I want to though.”

You shiver and move your arms around me. Your fingers tickle at the back of my neck as you consider my offer. “I’ve never had that done to me before.”

I kiss you softly. “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

You nod, then watch me as I slip down and carefully remove your panties, letting them dangle off one of your ankles. I smooth my hands up your legs, kneading them before I gently spread your thighs. You shiver, then relax. I kiss your thighs, your belly before I touch you directly. I rub your vulva with my long fingers, feeling a bit of wetness seep out to greet me. I press my tongue between the folds and your breath shudders. I look up at you, seeing your embarrassed but pleasured face looking down at me. You reach down, stroking my hair away from my face so you can see me better. I spread you open further with my fingers, finding your clit eager to be touched. My tongue presses against it, and your body jerks suddenly.

“Sorry,” you mewl. “It felt really strong.”

I chuckle and kiss it. “I’ll be gentle, then.” I lap up your slit, moving my tongue inside you before circling around your clit again. You moan and sigh, showing that what I’ve been doing is well-received. I kiss your clit again, tapping it gently with my tongue before I fasten my lips around it. You yelp and throw your head back, cupping one hand around your mouth while the other tugs at one of my horns. You don’t struggle or try to get away, so I keep going, applying suction.

“Leary! Leary!” you cry out.

I add my fingers, slipping two inside you, and feel your inner walls tremble and pulse around me. Your hips shake and your voice becomes a deep moan. I continue, suckling and moving my fingers. I moan against you, feeling your passion dripping around my knuckles. Your thighs tighten around me, trapping me and shaking me before you push my head back in desperation. “Stop! Stop!” you cry, ears in your eyes. Your body trembles, curling into a fetal position. You hiccup and whimper as I withdraw, licking your fluids from my lips and chin.

“Are you okay?” I gently ask. I brush your hair aside and kiss your shoulder.

“I’m still…” You lose your breath. “That was…”

I lie against your back, holding you until you uncurl. I stroke my hand down your leg, snuggling and kissing you, then reach between your thighs and cup your sensitive mound in my palm. You moan softly, biting your lip as I knead. “I’ve never come like that,” you sigh.

“I’m glad you did.” I kiss your shoulder. “I wanted you to.”

You roll over and kiss me. “What about you?”

“I’m plenty pleased right now,” I purr. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Could I, though?” you ask with a soft pout.

I smirk at you, enjoying the puppy eyes you’re giving me. “Not right now. Just enjoy yourself.”

You snuggle up against me. “I owe you big time,” you giggle.

“This isn’t about owing me. I don’t want you to feel that way. I did that because I wanted to make you feel good. It made me just as happy as you.”

You kiss me. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I’m positively beaming the rest of the day, and nothing can knock me off my high horse. I’m tired when I get home, but all I can think about is how amazingly cute you were in the morning. I can still remember how you tasted and felt. But as I walk into my bedroom to change, I am greeted by candles and soft music. You’re sitting on my bed waiting for me, and when our eyes lock you drop the robe around you.

“Welcome home, Leary.”

“Oh, wow,” I breathe. I drop my bag on the ground and just look at you. “Oh, wow!”

You giggle and stand, coming over to me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. I hope you don’t mind me here. I know you must be tired, but…”

I kiss you hungrily, and we fall onto the bed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” I say between kisses. My clothes become disheveled, and your hands find bare skin. My belt hits the ground with a thud, and my tail waves behind me, letting you know just how excited I really am.

Your lips and mouth are so warm, and your hands feel so soft against my shaft. My mind is buzzing, excited and elated. Once I’m hard, I can barely stand it. I put on the condom, though I rush and fumble with my excitement. I move between your thighs again, feeling how soft you are with the most sensitive part of me.

“I want you, Leary,” you mewl, your fingers in my hair.

“I want you, too.” I kiss you as I enter you, plunging deep inside as you cling to me. I don’t know how I’ll make it. I want to succumb to your charm and wiles now. But somehow I find the stamina to make the night last.

The morning feels light and cool. My legs and hips are sore, but your warm body cures that. I kiss your hair and get up to make coffee, standing in the kitchen naked with a big smile on my face. Then my roommate comes out of his room, we lock eyes, and my bliss is gone for.

“Morning, Leary,” he says and strolls by. “Your girlfriend seems nice.”

“Thanks, Yuri,” I quickly use a placemat to cover myself. “Good to see you!”

He smirks. “Good to see you, buddy.” He grabs the packed food from the fridge. “Hope to see you again.” He strides out the door, and I feel miserable. I quickly take the coffee back to the bedroom, feeling better once I have you again.

“Good morning,” you yawn.

“Sleep well?” I place the warm coffee in your hands.

“Amazingly so,” you sigh. You give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This is nice.”

I smile, watching you as you sip your coffee. “I love you.” The words slip out so naturally it’s almost scary.

You look at me, almost terrified, but then you grin and tears well up. “I love you, too.” Even if my roommate caught me naked, this is still the best day of my life.

[beels-burger-babe]

With You Always

***So I really really really love this idea, but I'm going to tweak it just a little bit so rather than only seeing them in mirrors, MC can just always see them when the brothers aren't around. This one is going to take place after they return to the human realm. I'm also going to be using he/him pronouns for the crush that'll be mentioned. I figured since all the dateables in the game identify as male, it'd be a safe bet. Thank you so so much for this creative request @gender-less-lemon (also I freaking love your profile picture. Monster Camp/Prom is hilarious)***

Summary: An average day of high school with MC...and the seven pact manifestations that haunt their vision.

TW: Bullying You were awoken not by an alarm, or your guardian, or even some random noise from outside, but rather a phantom gnawing on your arm. With a groan, you blinked open your eyes and saw just your regular old room, with one minor difference; a spectral red bear was happily teething on your elbow. You chuckled and pet the manifestation, noting the brightly glowing symbol of gluttony resting in its stomach. "Okay, Beel," you mumbled to yourself as you dragged yourself out of bed, pushing the purple translucent calf sleeping on your stomach, in the process. "I hear you." Ever since you had returned to the human realm, you had been followed around by spectral manifestations of the seven pacts that you owned. By the looks of things, no one else could see them, and they only appeared when the connected sin was active or needed, but it helped you feel less alone. You missed the brothers more than you had anticipated. It was more than a little bit of a culture shock to go from being loved and spoiled every day to being the misfit in your high school. Speaking of which, you needed to get going if you weren't going to be late. As you rushed around our room frantically grabbing the things you needed to get ready, the calf-like manifestation of sloth sat on your bed mooing in complaint. You sent a glare over to it as you finished collecting your belongings. "Trust me, I rather stay home and sleep too, buddy. But I have to go." Grabbing some fruit on your way out the door, you just managed to make it to school on time. Now it was simply a matter of surviving the day.

In all honesty, you preferred RAD to high school. In RAD, the subjects were interesting and grasped your attention without any problems at all. You had friends, even outside of the brothers. Sure there were always demons that would talk down about the kid human that clung to the demon lords, but you had the brothers to protect you. It was nice.

Now that you were back in the human world, you had none of that. In fact, you were even more of a misfit than when you were before. The teenager that vanished for a year and came back weirder than before; that was you. At first, you couldn't get people to leave you alone, but once they realized you weren't going to give them answers they backed off. You would occasionally laugh or whisper to the manifestations, which would earn you some more than weird looks, but you didn't care. These weird little ghost-like creatures were one of the only things you had connecting you to the Devildom. They meant more to you than anything else. As you entered your classroom, you had to bite back a laugh at the sight of one of your classmates looking around in confusion as, unknown to them, a golden yellow crow flapped around their head and pecked at the shiny earrings they were wearing. You took your seat in the back of the classroom and watch in amusement as the crow continued pecking at the various belongings of students, causing subtle chaos and confusion. Leave it to Mammon to make your day even when he wasn't actually there. Your teacher walked in and sat down in his chair. "Alright, class. Today we're going to continue with our history presentations. Remember these were subjects of your choice, so I do hope that you can at least pretend to be interested," he sighed and pulled out a clipboard. "Looks like the next person presenting is...MC." You winced and looked down at your notes. The topic was definitely one you were confident in, but to present it in front of your class. What if no one liked it? What if people laughed? What if- You felt a nudge on your arm. You glanced over to see a dazzling blue peacock, straightening its long neck out high as it puffed out its chest. The pride manifestation gestured forward with its head and almost seemed to smile at you. You smiled gently as you felt warmth grow from his pact mark on your inner wrist and stood up beside the peacock. It cawed and began to strut forward, leading the way to the front of the class. The mental image of Lucifer doing the same almost caused you to burst out laughing. You finally turned to the class and held your head up proudly as you began to speak. "My presentation today will be on biblical demonology and the way it has evolved throughout the eons of its existence." It was the best presentation you had ever given in your life. Riding off of the high from history class, the day seemed to fly by. Before you knew it was time for lunch. The bear was back, this time just softly moaning it continued butting your back with its head in an attempt to get you to go to the cafeteria faster. With one particularly heard shove, you were sent stumbling forward, directly into the chest of someone. "I'm so sorry! I'm a total clutz. I just tripped, I hadn't meant to-" you cut yourself off as you looked up and noticed you were looking at your crush. Your jaw snapped shut as you felt your face suddenly become uncomfortably hot. He smiled and waved off the apology. "It's alright. Just an accident right?" Your face became even hotter as you noticed a bright pink rabbit jumping up and down happily behind him. "I- Uh...Ehm...Y-Yeah! Yeah, t-totally an accident. I'm seat so I should go find my hungry. I-I mean!" He chuckled and nodded. "No worries, I get what you're trying to say. Enjoy your seat, MC," he gave you a wink, causing you to squeak as he walked off. You glared down at the rabbit running happy circles around your feet and the red bear that was sulking guiltily in a corner. "I blame you two for this." With an embarrassed huff, you entered the cafeteria and found yourself instantly wanting to walk back out. Everyone was laughing and talking with one another in their friend groups at their tables. Some gossiped eagerly over a magazine. Others sat silently with one another while they gamed or read books. There was even a table where a group of theatre kids were drumming out a soundtrack beat on the table while singing their favourite

songs. You ducked your head down and grabbed a tray of food before moving to the lonely table in the back, doing your best to ignore the giant orange snake that slithered between the tables, occasionally hissing and tripping students. You tried not to think of how you could be just like those groups of laughing friends, if only you were still at RAD. Your heart ached as you thought about the brothers. Maybe you could call them tonight. You let out a heavy sigh as you stood up and went to leave. You had almost made it to the door when a familiar face stopped you. Standing just a couple inches taller than you, surrounded by their groupies, was your tormentor, Taylor. You weren't entirely sure why they hated you so much. You just knew that they did, and that it got even worse when you came back from the Devildom. Taylor smirked with their arms crossed over their chest. "Where do you think your going? You haven't come to say hello yet." You scoffed and tried to walk past them. "Leave me alone, Taylor. I'm not in the mood for this today," before you could get very far, you were harshly onto the floor, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped and glared up at them. "What the fuck?!" The bully just sneered down at you. "You may not be in the mood for this, but I am. You know I heard about your weirdo presentation. Demons? Really? What are you, a satanist?" Their word choice was really ironic, for at that moment you noticed the large, white unicorn with flaming green hair and eyes appear behind them. The beast stomped its hooves and whinnied dangerously. You gulped nervously and looked up at Taylor. "Even if I was, it's not your business. I just find the topic interesting is all." You went to stand up, and therefore force the angry horse with a horn away from Taylor, but were stopped as they placed their foot on top of your chest. "I bet that's why you have all those weird tattoos, huh? What did you run away and join a cult for a year? Freak!" You could feel Satan's pact mark on the back of your neck grow hotter and hotter to the point that you were concerned the manifestation may be trying to summon him. Your eyes widen as you noticed it back up a few steps and point its horn at Taylor. You knew that the creatures normally could do small interactions with others, such as tripping or pushing, but you had never seen them attempt anything so violent. You couldn't just let it kill someone. "STOP!" The cafeteria fell quiet, but you weren't looking at them or even Taylor, you were looking at the unicorn. The manifestation neighed in frustration and jumped around, but obeyed your command. You slumped in relief. Looking back over to Taylor, you found them glaring down at you like you were nothing but a bug. They opened their mouth to degrade you even further when a teacher finally stepped forward. "What is happening here?" You walked over to the unicorn while Taylor fed the teacher a handful of lies. You leaned over to the manifestation and whispered under your breath. "Thank you for trying to protect me, but you can't hurt people. Just leave it be." The creature snorted and nuzzled your shoulder. In comparison to the hectic lunch hour, the rest of the day passed by with ease. In no time at all, you were back home in your room. You had just plopped onto your bed, when you heard a familiar ringtone. You smiled brightly and quickly grabbed your D.D.D. before immediately answering the phone. "Hello?" "Oh, you answered that quite quickly," you grinned at the surprise in Satan's tone. "I was just calling to-" "IS THAT MC?! GIMME!!!" You laughed as the sounds of Satan yelling and running from Mammon came through the other end. There was a yelp, a bang, and a victorious whoop before you could hear the device get picked up by someone. "'Hey MC! How was your day? I hope you didn't miss the great Mammon too badly. N-Not that I've missed you or anything just wanted to know how you're doin' is all." Belphie's purple calf climbed its way into your lap once more as you gently patted its head.

"I miss you too, Mammon. And today wasn't bad. I'd say it was pretty average overall." You could hear Satan growl in the background before there was a loud thud followed by a scream from Mammon. Satan took the phone back. "Just average you say? Nothing special?" You frowned and narrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "No, why?" To your right, the unicorn neighed softly and plopped down beside your bed. "Well, I could've sworn I felt our pact become triggered at some point today and...Well in all honesty I was concerned. We worry about you getting hurt without us there with you, MC." You couldn't help but smile softly as one by one each of the manifestations of your pacts made their way to your bed and laid down. "I know," you replied affectionately. "Though I'm never completely alone. So long as I have my pacts, you guys will always be with me." ***This was such an interesting concept to toy around with. I hope this wasn't too confusing and actually makes sense 😅😅 Thanks again for the amazing request @gender-less-lemon!***

Taglist @thegrimgrinningghost

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

[five-rivers]

Danny slowly loses his memories from before the Accident.

“I don’t remember that,” said Danny.  “Are you sure I was there?”

Maddie raised her eyebrows.  “I talked to you about it just last week,” she said. “When I was asking you about what you’d like to do during summer vacation.”

“I remember that,” said Danny, uncurling slightly from his position on the couch.  “I just don’t remember the other thing.  I... maybe we talked about something like it.  When was it?”

“You were twelve,” said Maddie.  “It was just before your birthday.”

Slowly, he shook his head.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I remember, um...  What other vacations did we have?  Before the one where you thought I was crazy, it was, um...” He held his hands as if preparing to count on them.  “We went to New York that one time.  And then the Great Lakes before that...  Oh!  And that haunted house road trip.”

He frowned down at his hands, and Maddie felt something unpleasant curl in her gut.  

“Is that...  All you remember?” she asked.  

“Y-Yeah?  I guess the others were from when I was too young to remember?”

“The haunted house trip was when you were five,” said Maddie.  “Danny... have you been,” she didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to piece together other little oddities into a big picture, “have you been forgetting things?”

“No!” said Danny, defensively, sitting up straighter.  “I’m just...”  He chewed his lip.  “It isn’t as if I’ve forgotten anything recent.”

His abysmal grades and missed curfews begged to differ.

“One second,” said Maddie.  “Stay here.”

She went to her room and fetched one of her largest photo albums.  Danny was still on the couch when she came back, picking at the hem of his pant leg, and staring blankly at the floor.  Maddie sat next to him, making him jump.  She opened the album to a random page.  

“What were we doing here?” she asked.  

“Um,” said Danny, brows pinching together in confusion.  “Shopping?”

“For?” prompted Maddie.  

Danny shook his head.  “It’s just shopping.  It isn’t important.”

“Danny, this is from when we got you that model spaceship.  The one you have hanging up in your room.”

Danny blinked, and slowly shook his head.  

.

The doctor’s office looked clean.  It even smelled clean.  Danny was still doing his level best not to touch anything.  Maddie would have sighed at his behavior, but she was too tense.  She met Jack’s eye.  He looked terrible too.

“There are no signs of Alzheimer’s disease,” said the doctor.  All three of them sighed with relief.  “However...  You said the other symptoms, the difficulty in school, began after the electrical accident?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

The doctor nodded.  “Electricity can do strange things to the brain, sometimes.  We haven’t been able to find any structural damage, but the activity levels...”  He brought a colored image up on his computer screen.  “This is where long-term memory is stored,” he said. 

“Doesn’t red usually indicate high levels of activity?” asked Jack.

“It does,” said the doctor.  “This is actually higher than usual activity...  Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on here.  I would like to request that you make a record of things that you currently remember as happening in your life, and then come back a month from now.”

“That’s it?” demanded Maddie.  

“Right now, since we don’t know what’s causing this,” said the doctor, “the best we can do is monitor the situation.  We don’t even know if this is an ongoing deterioration, or something more gradual.  On the upside, other than long-term memory, there doesn’t appear to be any damage.  Your timeline after your accident is clear and detailed.  The cognitive tests we put you through actually put you significantly above average...  This is what we can do.”

Maddie didn’t like it.  Danny didn’t look surprised.  Or even particularly upset.  

She caught Jack’s eye again.  They would have to be ready to support him, when the extent of what he had lost fully hit him.  

.

Danny floated down the icy hallway next to Frostbite.  “This isn’t going to be one of those examinations where I have to get undressed, is it?” he asked.  

Frostbite chuckled, but there was an undercurrent to it that usually wasn’t present.  “Only halfway.”  He paused to tap Danny on the chest.  “Your mind is no longer entirely contained in your head, after all.”

Danny rubbed at where Frostbite had tapped him.  “You don’t think that has anything to do with it, do you?”

“I’m unsure,” said Frostbite as they reached the examination room.  “It isn’t unusual for ghosts to lose their memories of their lives, but that is both more immediate and more complete.  Sit down here, and take your shirt off, Great One, and we can begin.”

Danny made a face at the item that looked like an overly complicated dentist’s chair with a large metal disk embedded in the back, but obeyed.  

“Here we are,” said Frostbite, pulling a complicated ring-shaped thing from the chair.  “This part goes around your head,” he said adjusting it to fit.  

Despite his cold core, Danny shivered at the frigidity of the metal.  

“These are to monitor your core, along with the matching one built into the chair,” said Frostbite as he attached several flat disks to Danny’s chest.  

“Are they, like, ultrasound?” asked Danny, running his finger along the edge of one of them.  He didn’t like how they stuck to his skin.  

“They work on a similar principle,” said Frostbite.  He turned on several nearby monitors.  “With this, we will be able to see how your brain and core react in tandem.  Can you transform for me a few times?  I want to compare with the baseline readings we took from you when you first stayed with us.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

.

“Alright,” said Frostbite.  “Now, I am going to try sending a few low-intensity ectoplasmic pulses and currents through you.  Is that alright?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

The first few left Danny feeling lethargic and tingly.  Other gave him so much energy he had to leave the room for a few minutes to burn some of it off.  Another, interestingly, turned off his ghost half, not unlike the Plasmius Maximus.

There was a rest period in-between each test, to make sure that they weren’t mixing results.  During those times, Danny and Frostbite would laugh and tell jokes and...

...  Danny trailed off in the middle of a sentence.  “Frostbite?” he asked after a minute.  “What was I just saying?”

.

“I want to stress that this is currently just a theory, Great One,” said Frostbite.  

“It’s okay,” said Danny.  “Just...  What is it?”

“Your memories are recorded in both your brain and your core.  You know this, correct?”

“Yeah.  You told me that a while back.”

Frostbite nodded.  “Normally, if one is turned off, the other one is still recording memories, and the memories will be transcribed.”

Danny nodded.  

“Or, if they are disconnected, in the case of the Plasmius Maximus, or your parents’ ‘Ghost Catcher,’ they will swap memories.  However...”

“Yes?”

“It is my theory that certain kinds of discrepancies between memories can lead to your core deciding that the discrepancy is an error and attempting to remedy it.  Great One, your core did not exist prior to your accident.”

“So, it thinks my memories from before that are wrong, and it’s getting rid of them.”

“I’m afraid it may be so.”

“Can you stop it?  I mean, you were able to artificially induce it, earlier...”

Frostbite made a face.  “The only things I can think of that could stop this would be unhealthy in the long run.  I do not believe you want to try to split yourself in two again.”

“No,” agreed Danny.  “Any-Anything else?”

Frostbite sighed.  “This is not something I can confirm,” he said, “but I suspect that the reason for your odd pattern of your memory loss is that the memories you dwelled on most often vanished first.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Because that would bring them to my core’s attention...”

Frostbite nodded.  

“Well.  That’s... not ideal.”

“I’m sorry, Great One.  Would that I could do more.”

.

“It’s all gone,” he said, without preamble, as he stood at Jazz’s door first thing in the morning.  

She looked crushed.  “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded.  “I remember remembering, but I don’t actually remember.  It’s weird and...  actually kind of a relief,” he said, tilting his head to one side.  

Jazz blinked rapidly.  “Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

He shook his head.  As his memories had disappeared, so had most of his remaining trust in his parents.  Between the memories of them caring for him, and the memories of them attacking or threatening him, the latter were more vivid.  

He still loved them, and his ghostly desires, that he literally could not remember living without, still focused on them, but that and trust were two different things.  It had been months since he’d started to fake retaining memories that he only knew about from reading his journals.  

“Sam and Tucker?”

This time, Danny nodded, the gesture much more enthusiastic.  “We were going to meet up later today, anyway.  Do you want to come with us?”

“Sure,” said Jazz.  She rubbed at her eyes.  “Give me a second.”

Danny nodded.  He wasn’t in a hurry.  “I’ll be downstairs.”

He could understand the grief.  He had felt it.  But it was over, now.  The only thing left was to make new memories.  

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Leave, Then Go (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! Soooo... I did a thing. 

The response was positive, so I went with it. Double Lizzie! Excited to present you with the Wanda/ Leigh crossover! Let me know what you think, I’m actually excited about this!

Summary: Y/n works on mending bridges with Leigh when she meets the alluring Wanda Maximoff. 

After waiting for what felt like hours, the woman you were waiting for finally appeared. You scrambled to your feet as you rushed forward to meet her. Concern immediately took precedent when you were able to fully take in her appearance. 

She looked like a ghost of who she used to be. Beautiful, but void of life. 

The bags under her eyes were prominent and the naturally glimmering emerald eyes that you used to love were dull. Empty. Dark like a storm rather than bright like the sea. Her shoulders were slumped forward with the weight of life when she used to stand so tall before.

It was as though she had been drained of all the light that she used to radiate.

Guilt clawed angrily at your chest. “Leigh.” You breathed out, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

When she met your eyes, her expression hardened. That was always a special talent of hers. Making you feel small with just a look. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hi Y/n. You look good. Thanks, I did start running again. Green juice, it does wonders.” You sarcastically began a conversation with yourself. If her defense mechanism was being cold, yours was humor. 

Leigh wasn’t amused by your antics in the slightest.

If looks could kill you’d be six feet under now. “What are you doing here?” She repeated in annoyance, heavily emphasizing every word. 

Everything about her posture screamed impatience. “I-I wanted to check on you sooner. I did.” You fearfully watched a disbelieving smile spread across her lips. You knew that look. She was about to tear you apart. “I know! I know. I’m way too late and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Leigh.” You rushed out, the words clumsily stumbling over one another as they tumbled from your lips. They were sincere though. You hoped she knew that.

“That’s not good enough.” The bite of her words made you flinch. Leigh moved to step around you, but you caught her arm.

You dropped your hand when you noticed her eyes fall to the place you made contact. “I know it’s not.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips. “By the time I heard the news, it had been months. Then it took me months to work up the courage to see you again… The last time we saw each other wasn’t exactly a… fond memory.”

Leigh’s eyes began analyzing you critically. You shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. “I needed you, Y/n. I needed you and you weren’t there.” Her eyes began to shine slightly with unshed tears.

The shame you felt made it impossible to maintain eye contact with the woman before you. “I know.” You whispered. “And I’m sorry, Leigh. Truly. I am. If you allow me, I’d like to earn your forgiveness. Your trust. To prove I can be there for you and be the friend you need.”

“Friend?” Leigh raised an eyebrow as she loosely crossed her arms. “If my memory serves me correctly that’s the reason you weren’t there in the first place.”

You awkwardly rubbed your arm. “Yes. Friend. I can do that. I can be that for you… If you give me the chance.”

Leigh stared at you intently, her eyes searching yours, for what you didn’t know. “No more grand declarations or ultimatums?” 

“No grand declarations or ultimatums.” You repeated as you smiled hesitantly back at her. 

You desperately tried to beat back the memory that lingered at the forefront of your mind. Of tear stained cheeks and white dresses.

After a tense moment of silence, Leigh nodded. “Probation.” She warned simply with a point of her finger as she moved around you to go into her house.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You expected her to tear you apart. Scream at you until she was blue in the face. “I’ll call you?” You called after her unsurely. “We can get coffee?”

“Mmm.” Leigh hummed flippantly over her shoulder, barely audible as she closed the door behind herself.

With a small smile you turned and began walking back in the direction of your own apartment. The conversation had gone better than you had dared to hope it would. Leigh could be cruel when she was hurt, and you knew you had hurt her. Leaving the conversation unscathed felt like nothing short of a miracle. 

___________________________

Lying awake in bed later that night, your mind couldn’t help but wander to Leigh. Not that those thoughts were anything out of the ordinary. Seeing her today though made you worry even more than usual. 

Hey. I don’t know if this is still

your number. It’s Y/n. 

Read 12:14 a.m

You watched the bubble appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen several times before your phone chimed with a reply. 

Is this a booty call?

Sent 12:19 a.m.

What? No! I just wanted

to check on you.

Read 12:20 a.m.

Surprising. 

Sent 12:21 a.m.

Surprising that it’s not

a booty call or surprising

that I’m checking on you?

Read 12:22 a.m.

You tell me.

Sent 12:22 a.m.

I really did want to check

on you, Leigh.

Read 12:24 a.m.

I’m fine. Goodnight.

Sent 12:25 a.m.

Goodnight, Leigh. I’ll be at 

Coffee Code tomorrow morning doing 

some work if you want to stop by.

Read at 12:26 a.m.

After a few minutes of silence, it was clear she wasn’t going to reply, so you allowed your eyes to close as you drifted into a restless sleep. Still haunted by the image of white dresses and tear stained cheeks. 

___________

The bustle of the early morning crowd at the local coffee shop was always a place of serenity for you. The sounds of everyone around you going on with their lives was calming white noise to you and made doing tasks easier. 

“Excuse me?” You looked up and smiled slightly, actually surprised that Leigh had taken you up on your offer. “Do you mind if I sit here with you? It’s pretty crowded.”

Relief was your initial response to seeing her. There was still sorrow in her eyes, but the resentment she regarded you with yesterday had faded. There was an air of shyness that she carried that was unfamiliar to you. 

Leigh was many things but timid was not one of them. “Of course not, I did invite you after all.” 

Her head tilted slightly, and her movements became hesitant as she sat across from you. “I’m sorry?” 

Nerves forced you to look away from her and fiddle with the cup of coffee before you. “Last night? I really was trying to check on you.” The smooth porcelain under your fingers distracted you from seeing the way the woman before you watched you with confusion. “You look beautiful today by the way.” 

Regret flooded your racing mind as soon as the words fell from your lips. The compliment was definitely overstepping the boundaries of friendship. 

A light blush spread across Leigh’s cheeks at your words. Odd. Leigh usually dismissed your compliments or rolled her eyes. “Um…” The other woman’s nose scrunched slightly. “I think you may have me confused with someone else.”

You weren’t sure what game she was playing, and it put you on edge. “Leigh, it’s obviously you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not your friend. My name is Wanda.” The woman informed you shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Your eyes widened in disbelief. This woman was the spitting image of Leigh. It wasn’t Leigh though. That much became clear the more you observed her.

For the first time since she sat down you were able to detect the subtle differences. Wanda’s hair was just a shade darker. The make-up she wore was just a tad more noticeable. The many rings stacked on her fingers were accessories that Leigh would never wear. 

More importantly, the way she carried herself. It was heavy and timid but lighter than Leigh. Something about Wanda reminded you of breaches of sunlight breaking through storm clouds rather than the perpetual storm that Leigh carried. The storm that always seemed to be moments away from sweeping you away. 

Wanda was beautiful. Obviously. She was beautiful in a way that was different than Leigh even though they looked identical. There were no sharp edges to her beauty. It was soft. Like the first break of day. Leigh’s beauty was all sharp edges threatening to cut you to your core at every turn. 

You didn’t know Wanda, but you wanted to.

“I’m so sorry!” You quickly apologized when you realized you had been spacing out. “I must have made you so uncomfortable! It’s just that you look exactly like my friend and she makes me nervous so I didn’t even notice the difference at first. You could be her twin-” Your nervous ramblings were cut short by a hand being placed over your own. 

Wanda smiled slightly and all you could do was cover your face in embarrassment. She must think you’re a psychopath. “It’s okay…” She trailed off and raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

It didn’t take long for you to catch on. “Oh! My name is Y/n.” You shook your head as you humiliated yourself even more with each passing minute. “I’m so embarrassed.”

The melodic sound of her laughter drifted into your ears causing your stomach to flip. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.” Your cheeks burned at her words. The chime of her phone interrupted the moment as she finally pulled her hand back. 

A small frown tugged at the corner of her lips as she read over the message on her phone. “Not to over step, but is everything okay?”

“Yes. I just need to leave now unfortunately.” You noticed an almost undetectable accent framed her words. The accent just made her all the more alluring to you. “Do you think I could have your number?” She asked shyly as she tugged at the sleeves of her sweater.

Without hesitation, you scrambled to find a pen and a loose scrap of paper to write your number on. “Here you go.” You both shared bashful smiles when your hands grazed one another.

With a small wave, and a soft smile Wanda turned to leave. “I’ll call you.” Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought as you dreamily watched her walk out of the coffee shop.

“Okay. Am I going to regret coming?” You jumped at the unexpected appearance, causing you to spill your coffee. You mumbled several choice expletives under your breath as you desperately attempted to salvage the papers that you had spent the entire morning working on. 

Realizing that the attempts were futile you crumpled the papers and focused on drying the table. “We’re off to a great start already.” You heard Leigh sarcastically muse from her place across from you.

Nerves bloomed in your chest, knowing it was actually Leigh sitting across from you. You treaded forward cautiously. “S-sorry. I’m glad you made it out, Leigh. It’s good to see you.” You stuttered out. 

“I would ask how the coffee is, but it looks like the table would know more than you would.” Even more sarcasm. Definitely Leigh. Like you had noted when Wanda was there, Leigh was all sharp edges.

At the thought of Wanda, you leaned forward, pretending to not notice the way Leigh’s aloof attitude faltered slightly. “Do you have a twin?”

A dry laugh fell from Leigh’s lips. More controlled than Wanda’s. “What? Are you on drugs?” 

“I think I may have just met your twin.”

Leigh’s stare became cautious when she realized you weren’t joking.

There it is! Debating making this into a series. If I did should Wanda have powers or should she just be a normal person? Also how does the title Love Me (Or Let Me Go) sound? :) Let me know what you all think, I’m excited to hear back from you all! Thoughts and comments always welcome!

[earlgreydream]

haunted.

| bucky x reader | fluff |

Bucky is new to town and feeling lonely when the townies are unfriendly. Until you show up at his door. soft, sweet bucky fluff to make you feel good! 🥺 🥰

cw: vague mentions of murder. because there’s a haunted house. but it’s not scary! 

a/n: I love “we have always lived in the castle” and this is loosely inspired by that film

Bucky felt like everyone stared at him. He didn’t anticipate moving to the small town and being the object of attention for it. He definitely didn’t expect some people to be overtly rude to him, or stare at him like he was a creature when he walked by. 

He could’ve sworn he heard the word “haunted” whispered by a group of people when he was buying paint at the small hardware store in town. Bucky turned to stare back, but they quickly hurried away under his confused silver gaze.

His opportunities to make friends seemed grim, and he found himself spending most of his time renovating the old fixer-upper he bought. He was beginning to wonder if moving here, away from his home was a good decision. It was lonely, and he felt like he’d made a mistake. 

About a week after he moved in, the weather was particularly nice, and he decided to start tackling the garden while the weather permitted. He was working outside when he saw you. 

“Hello!” You called, walking up to the gate of the fence he was painting. 

“Hi,” Bucky grinned, setting down his paintbrush and greeting you. 

“I’m Y/N. I live next door, I’m sorry I haven’t been over to introduce myself yet.” 

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone just calls me Bucky. You’re actually the first person to properly speak to me. People in town... don’t seem fond of my arrival.” He struggled with the right way to phrase it, but you just smiled, shaking your head.

“It’s because of the house.” You explained.

“The house?” Bucky turned to the beautiful old victorian house he had moved into.

“Yeah. People in town are convinced it’s haunted. There was a murder here, a decade or so ago. The murderer is in jail now, and the house is completely fine, and safe. But the old people here are paranoid and superstitious. I’m sorry they’ve been unfriendly. They all claim it’s haunted,” you frowned, feeling sympathetic toward your new neighbor. 

He was sweet and friendly, and also incredibly handsome. You had come over to invite him for dinner, but had gotten distracted by his confusion about the unwelcoming town. Then, you found yourself staring at him. He wore a bright yellow shirt, standing out against the lush green of the garden. 

“It’s alright. I suppose I’ll have to prove I’m not a ghost,” he laughed. 

“I believe you. You are too kind to be a ghost. I came over actually to invite you for dinner. I thought you might be lonely.” 

His bright smile made warmth spread in your chest, and butterflies flutter in your tummy. 

“I’d love to, Y/N.” 

He watched you blush, giggling with excitement. You rattled off a time before running off, the breeze ruffling your hair and skirt as you crossed the yard back to your house. You waved at him and he smiled, waving back.

Bucky looked forward to spending time with you later. The sound of your laugh and the sweetness of your smile echoed in his mind as he continued with the fence. 

He cleaned up as the sun started to set, and he gathered daisies from the garden, wanting to make a good impression on you, and thank you for your hospitality. 

Bucky knocked on your door, and you swung it open with a smile. The scent of coffee and the food you were cooking filled his sense. 

“I brought these for you!” Bucky held up the flowers. You bit your lip with a blush, taking them from his hands. 

“Thank you, come in.” 

You stepped aside, letting him into your bright kitchen, putting the flowers into a jar on the table. 

“Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or tea while I finish?” 

“Coffee, please. I can help you,” Bucky offered, and you shook your head. 

“I’ve got it. I’m almost done,” you said as you poured him a cup of coffee. 

“What brings you here, Bucky?”

“I was just looking to get out of New York City, to something more quiet. I wanted to renovate a house, too. This seemed perfect.” 

“I’m glad. It’ll be good to see the house alive again. You’re not so bad either,” you teased lightly, making him grin.

You set down dishes of food before taking a seat beside him, chattering long into the evening. You learned that he was from Brooklyn, and that he loved New York style pizza. He was also fond of classic novels and big band music, and loved the color yellow.  

You took coffee to your back porch swing, sitting with him and gently rocking in the dusk, continuing your conversation until the stars were glittering in the sky.

The doorbells chimed in the shop you worked at. You stepped out from the back, smiling at Bucky.

“Hi!” You grinned, happy to see him. 

“Y/N. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“What can I get for you?” 

“Knobs for a dresser. There was one in the house, I’m refurbishing it.”

“Certainly. What color have you painted it?”

“Just white, I didn’t know what else to do. It needs something.”

“If... If you wanted, I could give it some detailing. I paint.” You offered shyly. 

“I’d love that.”

“They’re on the house.” You smiled, handing him the knobs he asked for.

You were kneeling in the sunroom of Bucky’s home. A record was softly spinning in the corner, and a gentle breeze blew through the open windows. Bucky brought a cup of tea to you, setting it down beside you. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, reaching up and gently squeezing his hand before going back to painting delicate flowers on the dresser. He hummed along to the old song scratching on the record, and you smiled as he sipped on his tea, taking a break from painting the walls of the sunroom a pale sage green. 

Your hand stilled as you watched him. You stared at Bucky, he was too perfect for you not to. 

Despite the rumors of the house being haunted, and a curse placed over those who resided there, you found yourself at peace with Bucky in his home. It was bright and inviting, just like him. 

Every hour spent with him had you falling more hopelessly in love with him. 

You kept Bucky awake at night. He would stare up at the ceiling, thoughts of you filling his mind and his heart. You were so tender and warm, your presence alone was a comfort to him. You made him laugh, and you made joy flood his life. 

Bucky was catastrophically in love with you.

“I’ve brought you a book. It’s my favorite, and I didn’t see it in your library,” you said, walking into his home that you’d been spending weeks helping him paint and redecorate. 

He walked around the corner of the hall, taking the well-loved copy from your hand. A soft smile crossed his face when he saw your little notes in the margins of passages you loved.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and yours found their way around his neck. You breathed him in, feeling safe and warm in his hug. You were sad when the long hug finally broke, Bucky looking up at the clock on the wall.

“Can you stay for tea?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the hem of his yellow shirt you loved.

“Of course.” 

The two of you curled up on the porch swing with your tea, enjoying the warm weather. 

“I was thinking about planting pumpkins in the garden for autumn.”

“You should. I have a pumpkin soup recipe, I can teach you,” you suggested, and he smiled softly.

“I’d love that.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, settling as his arm wrapped around your body. You watched the housecat run across the grass before hopping on the porch below you. His hand gently rubbed small circles where it rested on your leg, and the two of you rocked gently.

Music played faintly from inside as always. Bucky always had a record spinning or a playlist drifting out through hidden speakers. You found the habit endearing, like most little things about him. 

He had what seemed to be hundreds of tea bags, always having tea and offering it to you. You noticed that teas you mentioned you enjoyed started showing up in his collection for you when you were over. Books were stacked on nearly every surface, and filled shelves throughout the house. 

You giggled, getting some flour on Bucky’s nose while the two of you were baking cookies in his kitchen. You gasped and squealed when he knocked flour all over your shirt, covering you in the white powder. 

“Bucky!” You giggled at the mess. 

“It wasn’t me, it was the ghost,” he teased with an adorable grin. You shook your head at him and he got one of his clean t-shirts for you to change into, tossing your ruined one in with his laundry. 

The fabric of his was soft and smelled like him. You hugged it to your body, smiling as your heart raced. You went back downstairs to finish baking, Bucky promising you he was going to behave. 

“Taste this, tell me if it’s good,” he laughed, holding out a spoon of the melted chocolate to you. You opened your mouth so he could feed it to you, and chocolate smeared over your lips as he pulled the spoon out. 

You nodded in delight, and an amused smile crossed his face. 

“You’ve got a little on your face, doll,” he laughed and you blushed. 

Your breath caught as he leaned forward and kissed you, tasting the chocolate on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, your heart bursting. 

“Was that the ghost too?” you giggled shyly. 

“No, that was all me,” Bucky promised before kissing you again. 

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards pt. III

(Technoblade x Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII

     From that day on Tommy stayed with you and Technoblade in your collective house, Technoblade tried to establish some ground rules but Tommy being Tommy refused to listen to any of them. He was dead set on building a cobblestone tower as well as taking all of Technoblade’s golden apples instead of eating the golden carrots that were graciously given to him. Other than that, things seemed to be going okay for your little found family. Well, that was until Technoblade and Tommy got wind that a man named Dream was sniffing around the area. 

 Dream was an enigma to you, after hearing Tommy’s stories about the man you could only come up with two conclusions about him. One was that you had no idea what his motivations were in the first place and secondly you wanted to beat his ass for what he did to Tommy. As... unique as he could be at times no child deserved to be exiled and manipulated, it was disgusting. He was a sixteen-year-old boy who got caught up in too many wars and too much violence, you needed to protect him. So long as he was with you and Technoblade that’s what you planned on doing. That was what you silently vowed to yourself, even if Technoblade didn’t share the same sentiment. 

 Now, it seemed you were coming increasingly closer to voicing those feelings to the man himself. Tommy was shaking a little besides you he tried to look strong as Technoblade frantically told him to hide and splashed him with invisibility potions. He looked over at you next and grabbed your shoulders, he actually looked scared, which meant he wasn’t messing around. 

          “You need to hide too. God- there’s nowhere that he won’t check.” Technoblade mumbled, his brow creased, and he closed his eyes. “He CAN’T know about you! No one other than Tommy can, they’ll hurt you and-” Hesitantly you put your hands on his cheeks,  

         “Take a deep breath…” You said tenderly as he opened his eyes to lock with your own. “We’ll be okay, splash me with invis and I’ll stay by Edward, hopefully it’ll mask my particle effects.” He gave a worried nod; you pecked his lips tenderly to reassure him as he splashed you with the potion. Just in time too because a knock on the door sounded, for once Tommy was absolutely silent. You watched as a man who rivaled your boyfriend in size came through the door, your eyes widened at the white mask covering his face there was an almost haunting smile painted on it. You pressed your tongue against your teeth and watched him give a wave to your boyfriend. Even without seeing his face you could tell he was smirking coyly at him. Never one to be intimidated Technoblade gave him a casual greeting and their conversation about Tommy’s location began. You had to cover your mouth with your hands at one point to stop yourself from laughing as Techno began talking to ‘chat’ instead of talking to Dream. You watched as the masked man grew more and more angry at Technoblade’s antics, he began speaking about a favor and Techno reminded him that he believes in full reciprocity. At the end of the interaction, it took all of your strength not to punch Dream directly in his stupid masked face. Why the fuck did it sound like he wanted to murder a child? If Dream ever laid a finger on him again, he was personally going to feel your wrath. The potion wore off almost as soon as Dream disappeared over the hills, Techno immediately turned to Tommy anger written all over his face.

         “Where you eating my gapples that ENTIRE time?!” Tommy sputtered out an excuse about absorption and you watched Techno open the window and beckon Dream to come back. You gave Technoblade a look and he scoffed at you, 

          “I won’t let him hurt you again Tommy. I promise.” You swore looking down at him, and his face turned a little pink. Tommy cleared his throat and shook his head,

          “Thanks, Ms. Blade but I’m tough enough to fight him head on! Have no fear!” He pointed to himself with his thumb a proud smile adoring his face. You gave a little laugh and nodded in agreement, 

          “You definitely are. Thank you for reassuring me.” You hummed and his smile only seemed to widen, 

          “I’m more qualified to protect your girlfriend than you are it seems Technoblade.” 

 Technoblade looked unamused, his eyebrow twitching in distaste. “Tommy I literally hate you so much. You’re a nerd.” 

         “Play nice both of you.” You scolded them, “We have to work together and at least pretend to get along or it’s going to be a very long partnership.” They both nodded reluctantly, and Techno sighed tiredly, he ruffled your hair. The rest of the night was spent gathering some more food in hopes it would stop Tommy’s gapple eating tirade, it obviously wouldn’t but it didn’t hurt to try. After that all three of you turned in for the night, as both you and Technoblade were getting ready for bed he decided to speak up about the plan for the next day.

          “Tommy and I need to make a trek into L’manburg to find Phil and try to get my stuff back. I don’t want to leave you here alone considering what just happened today, but you also can’t come to L’manburg.” 

        “Bubs you know I’ll be fine here alone did we not just have this conversation?” You pinched his pointed ears, and he made a sound of protest. “I’ve got fighting skills, after all have you not been training me in the art of war?” You teased with a smirk, “I got this Blade.”

          “Okay, okay, okay.” He leaned forward and kissed you and you kissed him back without hesitation. You felt him squeeze your hand fondly before pulling away from you. “When we get back home, we’ll have a date night okay?” Technoblade whispered softly pressing his forehead to yours. 

          “Gonna be a bit hard with the raccoon boy snooping around.” You teased eyes sparkling in delight, 

         “I’ll send him on a quest for something or other. So, it’ll be just us, I swear.” The soft look on Technoblade’s face made your heart squeeze in your chest. He brushed your hair behind your ear, “I’ll make you dinner, and we can watch a movie.” 

          “Well don’t take too long then.” You sent a teasing wink his way and he smiled fondly back at you. You kissed him again pulling him down into the bed, you both bounced with a laugh. His pink hair hung down and framed his face gorgeously, his glasses slipped down his nose. You pushed them back up with your index finger and he went cross-eyed, “I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

 The next morning rolled around and after breakfast both boys reluctantly packed a bag with important things they needed for the day. Stepping outside with the two of them, Technoblade gave you a farewell kiss and you watched them disappear over the hills. They were most likely going to go cause problems for other people on purpose. Finally alone, you decided to check up on the nearby villages to see if they had any interesting trades that you and Techno could exploit. You slung a bag over your shoulder and placed a good portion of emeralds inside of it, you placed a few potions inside of the bag as well. As a precaution you also grabbed an axe and a sword, you had to be ready for anything after all. Shutting the door behind you, you started your trek through the snow-covered woods you heard the snow crunch under your boots and began to hum softly to yourself. You paused a moment and raised an eyebrow as you caught sight of a blue sheep wandering by, tilting your head to the side you approached it. 

        “Well, hey little guy.” You murmured reaching out and running your hand through the sheep’s soft wool. 

         “Oh, um excuse me!” A voice spoke from behind you, you jumped with a yelp as soon as you spun around you were met with a fully transparent man. He had a yellow sweater with a big gash in his torso, and a beanie resting atop his head. You tilted your head up and locked eyes with him, they were almost completely white.

 He was a ghost.

          “That’s Friend! She doesn’t really like others petting her but it’s okay because you didn’t know.” The ghost smiled; it was contagious as you felt yourself smiling back at him.

         “My bad, my names (Y/n). What’s yours?” 

         “Oh! I’m Ghostbur! It’s nice to meet you miss, I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you new to the SMP?” He tilted his head floating around you, almost as if to get a better look at you. You focused more on his name, Ghostbur, which means this was Wilbur Soot, ex-president of L’manburg, and ‘brother’ of Tommy and Technoblade. 

 You cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck. “No, I’ve lived in this area for a while, but I’m a wandering adventurer. I trade with the villages around here for interesting collectables stuff like that. I don’t do much of that now though.” You watched the ghost’s eyes widen a little,

          “That’s so cool!” He praised, “I bet you have a ton of cool stories.” 

          “Yeah, there’s been a few close calls, but I’ve made it back alive and well- oh shit no offense.” You winced a little and he laughed shaking his head, 

          “No worries it’s okay! I’m fine with being dead you know, no one really liked who I was alive, so this is better for everybody.” He puffed out his chest a little and a big smile spread across his face, that only caused you to frown. You reached out to try and touch him and your hand went right through the man, you both seemed to shiver at that, and he looked at you in shock. 

      “I’m sorry to hear that...that must be really hard.” Wilbur’s jaw dropped at your response, he floated around a bit awkwardly. If he wasn’t floating, he would’ve been shuffling on his feet in a nervous manner. 

       “N-No it’s…Wilbur was a horrible, horrible man.” He took a deep breath and began to throw some sort of blue substance on the ground in a rapid manner, you watched as he began to mutter and breath heavily. 

        “Woah, woah, woah I’m sorry don’t freak out!” 

         “I’m not, I'm okay see, see I’m fine and happy. Very happy with everything that’s going on so no worries okay! Here.” He tossed the blue substance at you and you collected it with a weary smile, “Have some blue it’ll make you feel better.” You thanked him quietly and you both stood there a bit uncomfortably that was until thunder rumbled overhead. “Oh no…I melt in the rain.” 

         “Here why don’t you come with me.” You smiled softly, “I know a place where you can wait out the storm.” 

          “Aw thank you.” Ghostbur clapped, “Friend can come too right?” 

          “Of course.” 

          “Good. Then lead the way.” He chirped as Ghostbur followed you back the way you came, now before you get too mad at yourself you should know that Technoblade had informed you that during his ‘execution’ Ghostbur had visited him at his home. If he didn’t share that information with you, you’d be never revealing Technoblade’s base. As the house appeared over the mountains the ghost looked over at you with a bright smile, “Oh! That’s my friend Technoblade’s house, do you live with him?”

         “I do.” You smiled fondly and watched his smile grow excitedly, “He’s helped me out quite a lot.”

         “That’s wonderful! Technoblade usually never helps people unless he likes them or if they can do something for him in return. You must be very special, are you two together?” He only had to glance at you for a moment before laughing excitedly, “You are! That’s wonderful!” Ghostbur chirped, clapping his hands as he phased through Technoblade’s door, officially safe out of the rain, turned snow. You had let Friend inside as well and Ghostbur continued talking “Tell me how you met, please, please, please.” Seeing how excited the ghost was you melted, he won your heart just like Tommy. However, you had to keep in mind his alive self-did blow up an entire nation and that couldn’t be just brushed away like he seemingly was trying to do, you can’t erase the past. You can only accept what happens, learn from it, apologize and grow. However, you didn’t see the harm in sharing how the both of you met so you began to retell the tale to Ghostbur, the entire time he had an almost bittersweet look on his face. 

         “I was married once...her name was Sally. She...left though. But I still had my son, Fundy and we did the best we could together.” Ghostbur said fondly his eyes softening,

         “I’m sorry...that must’ve been really hard for the both of you.” 

         “It’s alright! She was a salmon, so she was going to swim away eventually.” 

         “Like- like an actual salmon?”

          “Yes?” 

The silence that stretched into the room was deafening, you cleared your throat deciding not to dwell on the fact that the ghost in front of you very likely fucked a fish. You hoped to god she was some sort of shapeshifter, in fact that’s what you were going to believe. You managed to break the silence by asking about Fundy, and the way he gushed about him was nothing less than fatherly. It was sweet and you listened intently to him, Fundy seemed like a good kid, a bit quirky but you were dating a blood god so who were you to judge? Eventually the snow outside stopped and the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds. Ghostbur glanced out the window and decided it was time for him to head out with Friend. It was about midday and you were almost sad to see him go. 

 Alone again.

You still had hours to kill before Technoblade and Tommy reappeared, so you figured it was about time to start doing some chores. 

---

         “Ghostbur what’re you doing here?” Fundy murmured softly, looking over at the ghost with an exhausted expression. His ears were pressed back against his head, talking to the man who was once considered his dad always made him exhausted. Wilbur, or Ghostbur now, really was pitiful.

         “Can’t I visit you every once in a while!” Ghostbur hummed a smile plastered on his face as Fundy frowned. 

         “Preferably not. Plus...I’m a little busy right now I’m meeting up with Quackity and the Butcher Squad to talk about Techno again.” 

         “OH! Technoblade! I just spent the loveliest morning with his girlfriend, she was absolutely wonderful! She asked all about you and just adored Friend-”

         “Rewind, Technoblade’s what?” Fundy’s jaw dropped to the floor and he felt a hand on his shoulder, the young fox man stiffened. He looked to the side and saw Quackity besides him, Ranboo was next to him but Tubbo stood a little ways away. 

        “Yeah Ghostbur. Do continue.” Quackity grinned, his missing tooth sticking out from his last encounter with Toothpick. Ghostbur wilted a little bit and his eyebrows creased on his forehead, he fucked up didn’t he? 

        “I-um nothing actually I misspoke.”

        “Did he misspeak Fundy, cause to me it sounds like we have new leverage against Technoblade.” Quackity laughed a crazed look in his eyes, “Once again Ghostbur I have to thank you for the great information.” 

        “You’re welcome…” He murmured weakly, as Quackity stepped besides the ghost. 

        “Get your weapons boys, it’s time to pay the Technoblade household another visit.”

~~~

Hey guys! Pt. III is officially up! Technoblade’s livestreams huh? :) 

Also friendship with Tommy ended Ranboo’s my new favorite child.

As always I love your feedback thanks for reading! 

[rebeccccccaaa]

IᑎᖴᗩTᑌᗩTIOᑎ

_________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) Hiya! Could you do smth where the reader is masturbating in her room thinking about Bucky. When then Bucky sneaks in your room hiding from Sam chasing him, he hears you moaning his name and gets flushed but instead of leaving he decides to help you out and show you that the real thing is better than imagining it ? :)) and maybe his POV too ? ☺️ thank you dear. I’d really crave some soft Bucky smut atm.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut!! Minors dni plz, fluff, soft!dom bucky

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: thanks for the request; this was supposed to be a blurb but it’s like three thousand words omggg i can’t stopp nfviuapfgvaioufv

___________________________

“Where is he?” Sam grabbed the counter and shouted startling the people gathered in the kitchen. Steve spilled his coffee, Wanda threw her apples, and Tony choked on his cereal milk coming out of his nose.

“Who!” Steve said angrily. 

“Buck!” Sam growled. 

“We don’t fucking know!” Tony yelled as Pepper cleaned him up with a napkin. Sam bolted out of the kitchen down the hall scanning for the soldier.

“Where are you, you fucking metal-armed freak!” he screamed. 

Bucky on the other hand had slipped easily past your door; just barely cracking it to see an angry Sam Wilson stomping through the hall in search of Bucky. What for? Well, Sam has this fear roaches; he hates them, absolutely despises even the thought of a cockroach.

Bucky printed and cut out the silhouette of a huge cockroach and taped it to the inside of Sam’s bedside lamp so that when he sticks his hand under the shade, he’ll see the fake roach and hopefully scream in terror; well that was more than successful. Now Sam wanted to beat the shit of him for ruining his morning. 

Sam was soon out of sight and Bucky breathed out a breath of relief closing the door completely; locking it just in case Sam tries to come into your room looking for him. You and Bucky were very close, almost too close as Steve would say. He was found with you in your room a lot, whether it’d be playing video games, or eating lunch while watching TV, or listening to music that Bucky missed out on. 

He was in your room a lot so he knew you wouldn’t mind the unexpected visit. After you knew about his little prank; you would die of laughter if he told you about Sam’s reaction. Before Bucky turned around, he heard you.

“Buck,” you breathed out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed and when he turned around…

“Holy shit.”

ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ

“He’s gonna kill you,” you grinned at Bucky. He sat next to you with a pair of scissors in hand cutting out the black silhouette of that god awful roach.

“So worth it,” he smirked. 

“You didn’t answer my question though, doll. Why are you up so early? Pretty girls like you need their beauty rest,” he nudged your arm with elbow, making you roll your eyes.

“I just couldn’t sleep. Was tossing and turning all night,” you told him. 

“You know my bed is always available for cuddles that'll put you right to sleep,” he winked at you.

“You wish,” you retorted.

“Every night,” he said, making you feel shy. 

Bucky smirked to himself knowing how his words affected you. It was no secret that was deeply infatuated with you; but you always declined his advances and he respected that always. But that didn’t mean he stopped his endless flirting; never failed to make you laugh.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiled at you.

“Shut up, Buck,” you shook your head, “I’m gonna head back to my room; try and get some shut eye for at least twenty minutes. Let me know how your little prank goes.”

“Will do.” 

You shut your bedroom door and crawled languidly into your bed. You close your eyes and in doing so you’re met with those gorgeous cerulean blue eyes that haunted you every night. You immediately pop back up.

Goddammit, Bucky. 

Fuck you and striking eyes. Fuck you and your perfect nose. Fuck you and kissable lips. And strong arms. And your hands, oh your hands… Stop!

Your body erupted into goosebumps and your stomach fluttered just at the thought of him. Fuck the things you’d let him do to you. Why haven't you, you ask? Well he asked you on a date and thinking it was some sort of bet with Sam, because men are assholes and it wouldn’t be the first that happened, you kindly declined. 

The next day, Sam and Steve both said they didn’t know he was gonna ask you and had nothing to do with it. So you bolted to Bucky’s room only to find another woman curled to his side in his bed. 

“Y/n,” Bucky’s eyes were wide with guilt. 

“Hey, uh- I uh, I just wanted to ask um- what you wanted… for breakfast. I’m buying,” you breathed out a nervous chuckle. 

“I’m ok-” As soon as you heard those words you bolted out of his room hearing him call your name. You weren’t particularly pissed off, or enraged but it kinda hurt. 

Since then however, you don’t think you have seen Bucky even talk to another woman; even at one of Tony’s galas. And he always flirted and joked with you, even more this time than before. You weren’t going to lie, you both loved it and hated it. It gave you confidence while also ruining your panties with just a smile. 

Speaking of ruined panties.

You tossed your sheets over and shimmied out of your pajama bottoms. You took your panties off too pulling one side back to shoot it into the laundry basket since those were going to be in desperate need of a wash. 

You licked your fingers before pressing them against your burning pussy. You bit your lip stifling your moans as you circled your clit. You imagined Bucky’s hand instead of yours and you imagined him whispering dirty things in your ear. 

Your other hand went under your shirt and kneaded your breast softly. You clenched your thighs together approaching your orgasm quickly when suddenly you were a loud scream echo in the building. 

You instantly retracted your hand for a second remembering that Bucky had his little prank; Sam clearly found out now. But you soon put that aside and continued thinking about Bucky. He was so perfect; how could anyone look at him and not fall in love? He was so handsome and charming. And his physique. Holy hell, you would give anything to run your hands all over his muscled torso. Kiss up and down his chest and tell him how beautiful he was. 

You wanted him pressed against you rutting his hips into you like there was no tomorrow. You wanted to feel his fingers touch you the way you're touching yourself right now thinking about him. You wanted to hear him groan and moan in your ear. You wanted all of him. 

“Buck,” you finally moaned out. 

“Y/n?”

“Oh god, Buck!” you shrieked grabbing your sheets to cover your modesty.

“Sorry, I uh- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in,” he stuttered covering his eyes. 

“Why are you in here?” you asked him.

“Sam is chasing me and I sought refuge here,” he said.

“You can open your eyes; I’m decent now,” you mumbled. 

Bucky slowly brought his hands down looking at you with a guilty expression. He walked up to your bed and sat hesitantly beside you. Your knees were tucked into you and your arms wrapped around them protectively. Heat crawled up your spine and you felt sweaty and embarrassed to be caught so vulnerably, especially by the man whose name you were moaning. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, avoiding his gaze. 

“Don’t be, we all do it.”

“I know it’s- it’s still embarrassing,” you mumbled. 

“Because?” you stayed silent not really wanting to say it out loud.

“Because you were thinking about me?” Bucky crawled closer to you pulling the sheet from your bare legs gracefully. Your breathing quicken rapidly, your chest heaving up and down. 

“You know, I uh- I think about you too; all the time,” he whispered as he dragged his knuckles up your lower leg.

“You don’t have to imagine anymore. I’m right here. Just say the words and I’ll give everything,” he was so close; his fingertips ghosting the sides of your thighs. 

“Bucky,” you breathed against his lips, “No, stop.”

Bucky instantly backed away, retracting his hands. He looked at you with confusion and you avoided his gaze once again. 

“Buck, I know you just want to sleep with me-”

“Woah what! Did Sam tell you that? Fucking asshole, I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky got up but you pulled his hand back so he’d sit down again.

“No, you- ugh. When you asked me out, a long time ago, I thought you were doing a bet or something with Sam; so I said no to avoid any humiliation. I told Sam and he said he didn’t even know about it, that he had nothing to do with it. So I went to your room to tell you that I liked you back but you were… ‘busy’,” you explained. 

Bucky casted his eyes and head down remembering that day vividly. He knew exactly what happened. He asked you out and when you said no he was crushed. He asked Thor if he had any mead with him; it was the only thing that could get him drunk. And he got on a bike and booked it to the closest nightclub. 

Bucky finished Thor’s flask and he doesn’t even remember what happened that night. He woke up the next morning with someone in his bed and he freaked. He knew he fucked up and he regretted going out. Suddenly you barged through the door with a beautiful smile on your face but when you saw his unwanted guest, all the sparkle in your face died. 

He didn’t see you the rest of the day and it killed him. The woman was nice and actually was very understanding so at least he had that going for him. From that day on Bucky didn’t even look at any other women, let alone give them an ounce of attention. His eyes were simply set on you in hopes one day you’d give him a second chance. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I know I fucked up and if you want me to leave, I will.”

“I’m not mad, we’re not together and you have every right to do that. It just kinda hurt that you moved on so fast,” you chuckled a bit.

“I didn’t! I… I just fucked up. I still want you, not just your body; even though you’re so fucking sexy,” he reached out and squeezed your thigh making you grin, as hard as you tried not to. 

“I still think about you all the time. You’re so funny, and beautiful, and sexy, did I mention how sexy you are?” he said, making you laugh. 

“Maybe once or twice,” you giggled.

“I don’t want you thinking that I’m using you. I like you a lot. And I know you like me,” he raised his eyebrow making you sheepish. 

“Sorry about that again,” you chuckled.

“Don’t be. I can show the real thing instead, all you have to do is say the word,” he brushed his nose against yours. It was so tempting. He was just so irresistible. So all hell went out the window and you caved.

“Please,” you whispered.

Bucky pressed his lips languidly against yours, as if he’d done so a thousand times before. His hand slipped up your inner thigh and you gasped softly into Bucky’s mouth. He pushed his tongue in, swirling it around your and your neck craned back as he kissed you deeper. 

His knuckles brushed your wet folds and you shuddered under his touch. His lips trailed down to your jaw and neck as his fingers stroked your folds circled your entrance. You laid back staring up at Bucky who quickly got rid of his shirt before bringing his finger back down to your pussy. 

He slowly inserted a finger past your slick folds carfeully watching your face and the pleasure that was overcasted. You bit your lip staring into his eyes and Bucky grew hard simply from that. He pumped his finger in and out of you feeling your thighs wanting to press together from bliss. 

“Bucky, please I need more,” you whined. 

“Of course, my baby,” he smiled before adding another finger into your entrance. You moaned through gritted teeth feeling already full with just his fingers, you couldn’t imagine his cock. Your shirt had slowly ridden up exposing your belly. Bucky leaned down and kissed your skin, his lips feeling cold in contrast to your hot skin. 

Bucky breathed heavy at the sight of you. You were so beautiful and Bucky felt his heart swell. He’s been pining after you for so long and now you were finally here writhing under him in ecstasy. 

“You look so perfect, baby,” he whispered.

“Fuck, Bucky, your fingers feel so good,” you brushed your hands through his hair. 

“Yeah, you wanna cum? You cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes! Please let me cum,” you arched your chest to the air. 

“Come on, my baby. Let go.” You gushed all over his hand, your body spasming as you orgasmed. 

“So fucking pretty,” Bucky removed his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean. You moaned at the sight of him licking his fingers and you pulled him into a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Bucky stood up and discarded his pants quickly grabbing his cock. He walked to you and you replaced his hand with your slowly moving up and down his shaft. You circled your thumb over his swollen tip and you could feel his body tremble in your hand.

“Fucking tease, aren’t ya,” he grabbed your jaw and you smiled cheekily. 

He pulled your shirt off your body and his hands instantly went to your breasts, squeezing and pinching making you moan. His erection stood tall against your thigh and you grew needy for him.

“Please, baby. Please, I need you,” you held his face. 

“I gotcha, don’t worry. I’m gonna take real good care of my baby. I’m here,” Bucky whispered in your ear. 

He slowly pushed into you, his cock stretching you out. You whimpered at the feelin, never having felt so full before. Bucky kissed the skin below your ear as he slowly bottomed out. He stayed that way for a moment and soon you started wiggling your hips desperately asking him to move but he wouldn’t.

“Stop moving, doll. I just wanna feel ya,” he kept his face buried in your neck. 

“Bucky,” you breathed out.

“I know baby, you’re fucking tight. Squeezing me already too,” he chuckled.

You continued letting out whines and whimpers and Bucky’s heart nearly exploded. He propped himself on his elbows looking lovingly down at you and moved his hips back before pushing back in. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. Bucky kissed you senselessly, moaning deeply into your mouth. His hips thrusted wildly in and out of you, making your toes curled.

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re taking me so well; such a pretty baby,” he praised. 

You couldn’t form proper words; everything fell from your lips when you tried. Bucky is completely ruining you. Rutting into your hips, surely to leave bruises, he grazed your g spot perfectly pulling loud moans from you everytime.

“Ya feel that? Feel how deep I’m fucking this perfect little pussy?” Bucky grabbed your hand placing it on your lower stomach where you could feel his cock poking your hand with each thrust. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re fucking me so fucking good, I’m gonna cum,” yoou whimpered. 

“Say my name when you do baby. I want everyone in this goddamn building to know you’re mine,” his hips became sporadic. 

“Oh fuck; James!” you chanted his real name, surprising Bucky. He wanted you to say ‘Buck’ like you always do but hearing his first name fall from your lips, he only ever wanted to hear you say it reminding him of this very moment forever.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he grunted before spilling inside you. He coated your velvety walls with his hot cum and that was enough to make you fall off the edge too. Your eyes rolled back and your nails dragged harshly down his back. You protruded your chest up to his and Bucky could feel your perked nipples on his skin. 

He watched you with pure infatuation. Your face quickly relaxed to a tired and bliss expression. You breathed heavily out trying to settle your breathing. Bucky looked at your lips and captured them on his own one last time before running to your bathroom to clean you up. 

“You are so beautiful, my baby,” he whispered.

“Fuck, that was so good,” you said fervorly, pulling his flush against your body by his neck.

“And it’s-” he was interrupted by your phone ringing beside you.

“It’s Steve,” you told him before looking at the time at the top left of your screen. You were twenty minutes late to your morning session with Steve. You gasped covering your mouth with your hand in shock. 

“I’m late to my early sesh with Steve,” you laughed hysterically.

“Here, let me,” Bucky grabbed your phone sitting up to talk to Steve.

“Buck no,” you crawled behind him trying to grab your phone but not having the energy to chase his hand.

“Hey, Y/n’s busy.”

You heard a muffled voice, “Doing what, Buck?”

“Sucking my dick,” he said with absolute no hesitation.

“Buck!” you snatched the phone from his hand. 

“Sorry, Steve. I got a bit… distracted. I promised I’ll make it up,” you told him. 

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I’m happy for you two; you’re good together,” he said.

“Thanks, Stevie. I’ll see ya later.”

“Stevie?” Bucky asked, unamused. 

“Oh shut up, Buck. You just embarrassed me telling him I was sucking your dick,” you nudged him.

“You don’t want to suck my dick?”

“Ugh Buck!” you buried your face in your hands.

“Of course I do,” you said, making Bucky tackle you down pressing kisses all over your face.

“Well, this was quite an eventful morning,” he joked.

“It sure was. What do you think happened with Sam?”

---

“And he put a roach in my lampshade,” Sam cried, actual tears. Nat was trying her absolute hardest to not laugh as was Wanda; gripping onto each other’s arms in hysteria.

“It’s ok, Sam,” Steve soothed him rubbing his back. 

“God, where’s Y/n? We were supposed to start training twenty minutes ago,” Steve grumbled, staring at his watch.

“Call her,” Tony said.

Steve stepped aside and Sam continued to cry telling them how he chased him and he knew he ran into your room but it was locked. Nat and Wanda looked at each other grinning like idiots hoping what they think happened happened. Steve came back with a soft proud smile on face.

“What happened with Y/n?” Tony asked.

“She uh, she had to cancel, but it’s cool,” he looked at the girls who smiled knowingly. 

“She’s with Bucky isn’t she,” Sam grunted.

“Yeah, yeah she is,” Steve said, making Sam cry again because he’s not gonna be able to beat the shit of Bucky anymore.

====================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

[thefanficmonster]

Deep Breaths

Valkyrae x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Panic Attack, Mentions of past domestic abuse, Mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, Swearing

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst to Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having received a call from the correctional facility where their alcoholic/drug addict mother is being kept, Y/N gets some intense nightmarish flashbacks to a time that still haunts them despite a decade having passed. Luckily their girlfriend Rae is there to comfort therm.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, I hope I captured what you wanted to read! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete and post the fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Love, Vy ❤

“Hey Y/N, I-“ One step in the living room and that’s all it took for Rae to pick up on the melancholic mood in the room. 

Her partner hasn’t even noticed she’s entered. Instead, they are sitting hunched over on the couch, elbows on knees, hand seeking their hands’ support to stay upright and their eyes hiding a thousand yard stare that’s got Rae worried sick.

“Babe, what’s wrong?“ She asks softly, inching closer to the couch to take a seat next to Y/N, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?“

Through the fog surrounding their brain, they somehow manage to catch onto Rae’s words, forcing themself to give her at least a nod in response as to not scare her with their unresponsiveness. They can’t bring themselves to speak, it’s too hard on them to even think of what to say let alone spit it out, especially when their chest feels like it’s caught fire and their mind is still going haywire, heartbeat thumping in their ears as the adrenaline rush refuses to cease.

“Hey, look at me...“ Instead of sitting down, Rae ducks down in front of Y/N, taking their hands in hers, almost wincing at how cold they were. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby.“

The girl is trying her best not to freak out or lose her cool, despite her already quickened heartbeat she can hear in her ears. She has every right to be reacting the way she is. Her permanently happy, bubbly, optimistic and cheerful partner who always seems to be as energized as though they’d just had a gallon of coffee is now a pale ghost sitting statue-still, staring off into the void with eyes that look empty yet terrified simultaneously.

Y/N’s mouth falls open as though they want to say something but the words die out somewhere along the way, refusing to leave their mouth and give them the relief of sharing their pain with the only person they trust limitlessly.  “I-...“ They finally manage to find their voice though their gaze is still avoiding hers, “I got a call from the correctional facility where....” They trail off, a bitter taste forming in their mouth, making their stomach turn and bite the inside of their cheek as they feel the urge to throw up start to become unbearable. “She wants to s-see me...”

They don’t need to say anything else, Rae’s already connected the dots and her complexion has gone just as pale as theirs. She knows how sensitive and triggering this topic is for Y/N, how many bad memories are tied to this one person in their life. To make matters worse, they’re the one person who was supposed to take care of them yet she couldn’t even take care of herself - Y/N’s mother.

Rae distinctly remembers the night Y/N told her the truth about their family life - or the lack thereof - almost a year since the two had started dating. Rae never questioned their secretiveness and respected their privacy enough not to ask about it, patiently waiting for them to tell her on their own time and own terms. It was no secret even from the very start that Y/N had a very hard time connecting to people and trusting them. It took them maybe two or so months to be able to call their now-girlfriend a friend instead of an acquaintance. Rae didn’t question that too, didn’t push to pursue a friendship with them since, from her point of view, they were already her friend, so she patiently waited for them to come around and start trusting her enough to accept her within their tightknit circle of trusted people called ‘friends’. 

Things progressed from purely platonic to sweetly romantic a little more quickly which pleasantly surprised Rae. The two were quick to grow to be inseparable though that didn’t mean Y/N gave up all their secrets. The darkest one, which happens to be this one regarding their mother, is the one they hid the longest and the last one they had to share with their girlfriend.  The night they did tell it was a very emotional one: plenty of tears were shed by both Y/N and Rae but luckily they had each other’s embrace to seek comfort in and protect themselves from the ghosts and demons of a past Y/N spent so much time running away from.

An abusive parent is not a bit of baggage you can just get rid of. It’s something that weighs so heavy on you and is such a big part of who you are that you can feel it as a part of you. It haunts you no matter how much you try to run or hide. It’s not something you can shake off or forget. You might have physical and visible scars from the time spent with said parent or the trauma can be entirely psychological - regardless, it lives within you. Follows you around, raises questions you’re not sure you want answered, degrades you - making it seem like what happened was your fault in one way or another - it destroys you slowly very time something triggers a memory of that time, be it a simple conversation that has nothing to do with the subject or be it the glimpse you accidentally catch in the mirror of a scar on your body - a scar you remember being inflicted on you like it was yesterday.

That’s how Y/N’s been living. Feeling responsible, feeling unloved, feeling chained to their past. They’ve done all in their power to appear unbothered and let it be visible, not even when around Rae since they don’t want to worry her.

But seeing as their past has caught up to them now and they inevitably have to face it, they’re forced to let it show, they couldn’t hold it in even if they tried. Although they don’t wanna play the unbothered, unfazed part any longer. They have been strong on their own for far too long and it’s taken a toll on them. If they keep up with the act, they’ll be completely and utterly crushed.

Not that they’re feeling any better at the moment.

“Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me. Keep your eyes on me, ok? Take deep breaths. Deep breaths, baby. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok. You’re ok.“ Their short-circuiting brain has been spasming under the influence of the adrenaline, anxiety and panic brought on by the memories of every time they felt small and helpless while at the merciless hand of their alcoholic, drug addict abusive mother, begging to be spared the pain of being hit with whatever object the deranged woman could get her hands on - yet somehow, Rae’s voice still reaches them through all that messy dark fog. “Come on, Y/N, stay with me ok? Please don’t do this, I’m right here, there’s no need to be afraid,”

“I...“ they can barely hear their own voice over the racing of their heart, “I don’t...I don’t wanna go....“ is all they manage to say, a tear falling from their eye.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to go. We won’t go. Your mental health is the most important thing here, Y/N. We’re not going and that’s final.“ Rae replies vigorously, tightening her hold on Y/N’s hands.

Despite the state they’re in, Y/N can’t help but take notice of the use of the word ‘we’, Rae’s reminder that they are not alone, that she’s there for them and will not let them go into this alone. That brings a small smile to their face, calming their heart and panic ever so slightly, “N-no, I have to. It...it’ll help me.” They sigh before attempting to express themself again, “It’ll give me...closure, I guess.”

Seeing that Y/N’s doing a bit better, Rae’s hand move to cup their face instead, pushing the stray strands of hair away for their features to be full exposed to her, especially their eyes, “Are you sure you want that? Can you handle it? It’s not supposed to be your obligation, Y/N. I mean, the woman’s a monster and she hasn’t even thought to contact you in half a decade, and now she suddenly wants to get back in contact? She has the audacity to disturb you after all this time? You don’t have to agree to this, Y/N.”

Y/N shakes their head, “No, no, I want to. I want to agree to this. I want to live a normal life, Rae. I want to leave her and all she did to me behind. And I can’t do that if I keep running away. What happens when I stop to catch my breath? It still catches up to me like I made no progress whatsoever. That’s not a way to live, not the way I wanna live, at least.”

Rae nods slowly, fully understanding what Y/N is referring to. She maybe hasn’t said anything about it ever, but she’s always seen that little bit of darkness behind the happiness and excitement Y/N always displayed. Rae’s heart ached every time she caught glimpse of those little signs Y/N was putting on a performance while actually hurting on the inside. 

And if a meeting with their mother was what would help them finally fully embrace a happy life, then who was she to stop them.

“Ok.“ The girl sighs, “Ok, we’ll go see her, but only if you’re 100% sure you’ll be able to handle it.“

They shake their head again, sighing with unease, “I can never be 100% sure, my emotions have a tendency of being unpredictable so I’ll just have to pray I don’t have a breakdown or a panic attack.”

Rae swipes her thumb over their cheekbone wiping the tear that just escaped their eye, “If you do, don’t worry, I’ll be right there. You know the drill: squeeze my hand, take deep breaths and most importantly, don’t forget I’m there for you. Ok?”

Y/N nods their head, the small smile reappearing on their face. They squeeze Rae’s hand and take a long inhale. “Hand squeeze, deep breaths, noted.” They say when their eyes meet hers, “Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you so much for putting up with me and all my shit and thank you so much for never giving up on me no matter how much work I am or how hard dealing with me and my demons becomes.”

Rae’s heart stings at Y/N’s words, tears brimming her eyes when she raises a bit on her knees to press her lips against Y/N’s forehead. “Don’t thank me, angel. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and I never want to get gratitude for it. Love doesn’t ask for gratitude, and neither do I.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh to cover up an emotional sob that escapes their lungs. “I love you, Rae.” They say with a trembling voice.

“I love you too, Y/N.“

This time, the Y/N’s lips met the lips of their girlfriend, reminding themself that their safe haven isn’t a place, it’s a person - their girlfriend who means the world to them.

[caramelcal]

Request:  Luke x reader? Luke tries to distract reader throughout the day (like he did to Julie) especially when she tries to talk to Nick? Which reader gets mad about and starts to ignore Luke (because she’s been trying to distract herself from her growing feels for him) and he eventually poofs into he room to talk to her about it?

Word Count: 2k

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long, instead of sitting down and working on one fic i’ve been working on five at the same time. incredibly stressful, i’ll try not to do that again lol especially considering it meant it took me ages to write them all...also someone pls give me something to name this lmao ty, and thank you for the request! 

also just in case anyone asks i will not be making a part 2 sorry ! :(

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

Masterlist

“So y/n I was thinking,” Luke starts, popping up out of thin air beside you whilst you walk along the corridors. At his unannounced presence beside you, you jump and let out a surprised squeal, gather attention from other students.

Looking around, you notice all of their stares and a blush coats your cheeks. They couldn’t see Luke, you knew that, so they thought you jumped at nothing and your squeal definitely didn’t help. Your head ducks down in embarrassment, trying to avoid the gazes of the students as you start to hurry to your locker.

“Y/n! I’m trying to talk to you here? Hello!” Luke shouts, following your quick, embarrassed walk to your locker. He leans against the locker beside you, arms crossed over his chest, “Y/n, stop ignoring me please.”  

“You know Luke, normal people don’t sneak up on others so you definitely shouldn’t,” You mutter quietly, trying not to attract any more attention from those near you. You had already embarrassed yourself enough, you definitely didn’t need to be caught talking to yourself.

Luke watches you as you get your textbooks from your locker with soft, hazel eyes, shrugging his shoulders before he speaks again, “I don’t see what’s wrong with coming to share my ideas with you.”

“When you practically ambush me in the middle of the halls and embarrass me in front of my classmates then there’s something wrong,” You whisper harshly towards the teenage ghost, who gives you a playful smile in return.

“Don’t worry about it, I think your little scream was cute,” Luke tries to playfully comfort you, but you only end up more embarrassed. Ducking your head, you clear your throat, not meeting Luke’s eyes, “Plus, if I don’t talk to you then who is? Flynn and Julie aren’t here.”

“I have friends other than Julie and Flynn, you know,” You replied with a small smile, rolling your eyes at the boy whose eyes go slightly wider in amusement.

Leaning closer to you, he whispers, “Yeah, one of ‘ems behind you right now.”

With that he pulls back, his amused smirk going wider when he sees your eyes widen in panic. At least he’s getting some enjoyment out of this because you certainly weren’t. It was almost as if you were unfrozen, whipping around after several moments of doing nothing and just standing still to see him there.

“Heyyy y/n,” He says, trying to mask the slightly judgmental look he is giving you but you notice. At this rate, you just want the ground to swallow you whole, melt into the floor or just disappear.

“Nick! Hi,” You say, feeling your throat close up as you look at him. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they quickly stray when Luke appears behind him.

“You alright, L/N?” Nick asks, looking at you strangely with concern etched into his voice.

Waving your hand about weirdly, you nod your head wildly, trying to act natural but very much not. Luke glances at you with a judgmental glance, one that he wants you to see as you laugh, “Of course I am! Why would I not be?”

“I don’t know, you’re just acting a little strange.”

“Me? I’m always strange,” You try to wave it off, hoping that soon enough this nightmare would be over and you could go back home. This has to be the most embarrassing day to ever exist, for anyone. You would give anything just to disappear right now.

“Uh oh,” Luke’s voice sounds from behind Nick, his voice teasing as he looked at you with a smile, “has someone got a crush on Nick?”

“What! No!”

Your eyes snapped over to Luke, his smile growing wider. You know that he’s messing with you, but you couldn’t let him believe you had a crush on Nick of all people. No way. You already liked someone else, Luke, so to let Luke believe that you liked Nick was not going to happen. Your eyes hesitantly look back towards Nick, where he looks at you with a confused look.

You know that you can’t explain you were talking to a ghost, he’d think you were even crazier than you actually were. Giving him an awkward laugh you rub behind your neck, “Sorry, Flynn is across the hall and is trying to be distracting.”

“Flynn isn’t even in scho-”

“Sorry, Nick! Nice talking to you but I gotta go, bye!” Cutting Nick off quickly, you wave your hand before whirling around, walking in the opposite direction. A pair of shoes caught themselves up with you, and you knew who it was. The black and white vans were kind of a giveaway.

“I think that went well.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

. . .

Thankfully, your bad and embarrassing day didn’t get much worse. You managed to get through your first classes without Luke trying to annoy you anymore, which meant that you didn’t embarrass yourself even more and when it came to lunch you holed yourself up in the library. Being in the library meant that there was no one around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Your last class rolled around and you were trying to get your head down and do your work so that you could go home and forget that this day ever happened. It wasn’t going to get much worse than it already is considering the day was practically over, so you were just waiting for the time to pass by.

“Y/n, psst,” You hear a voice whisper from in front of you, making you look up. Maybe you spoke too soon, because there Luke is, sitting on the desk in front of yours, that was thankfully empty.

You knew that Luke just liked to talk to people other than Reggie and Alex from time-to-time and you were normally a good option but not in school. And especially not after the embarrassment that happened earlier on in the morning; that’s why you ignored him.

However, it seemed that Luke really wanted your attention and was willing to do anything to get it. Whether it be constantly talking to you, distracting you from doing your work, or humming new songs, he seemed to be doing anything to be annoying.

“What do you think about this one, n/n?”

Often, you were used to Luke just using your first name, so the sound of your endeared nickname falling off of his lips effortlessly caused your heart to flutter. Luke frowned a little, he knew you were listening, he could see you press your pencil down a little harder on your paper every time he spoke, almost as if you were trying to restrain yourself from answering him.

A smirk lit upon his lips, he knew exactly what to do. Jumping off of the table, he made his way over to your desk, taking the pencil out of your hand. Your eyes went wide but you knew you couldn’t make a big deal about it, imagine they seen you jumping after a floating pencil.

Looking up at Luke, you mouthed ‘Luke, put the pencil down’ with a glare, but Luke simply smirked at you. At this rate, you thought that Luke was just trying to get you grumpy. He brought the pencil down to your level to tease you but you caught onto it, tugging it closer to you.

Luke didn’t seem to want to let go, finally glad to get your attention but it shouldn’t have been a good thing, because he was just angering you even more.

Finally managing to yank the pencil off of Luke, you heard a voice whisper beside you, “Hey y/n, are you planning on actually doing any work, or are you gonna continue to cast spells with your pencil?”

The day definitely couldn’t get worse after that.

. . .

After that, you were determined to ignore Luke by any means necessary, even if he stole a pencil and let the class believe that the class was haunted. Thankfully enough, Luke realized that he shouldn’t push your buttons anymore and left you alone. On your walk home you practically wallowed in self-pity and embarrassment and found yourself swallowed in a hole of blankets and pillows watching a movie when you got into your bedroom.

You did not want to go back to school, and you found yourself dreading it more and more with each passing moment. After Luke realized how embarrassed you were the first time, he should've stopped, but he didn’t. Maybe he just liked to torture you and embarrass you in front of all of your peers.

It was a well-established thing that you liked Luke, not that he knew, of course, you knew he didn’t like you back like that. And after today, you struggled to believe he would ever see you as more; it was like he didn’t care about your feelings.

“Y/n, there you are,” Speak of the devil, “I need opinions on these new lyrics-”

“No, Luke. I’m busy.” You snap, eyes keeping on the screen. You hoped that he took the memo and stopped talking and left, but he didn’t, they never do.

Walking towards your bed, Luke sat beside you and grabs the remote that was tucked in between two blankets, holding it up to you, “No you aren’t, you’re only watching a movie. I’m sure you could stop it for two seconds.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You reply sassily, reaching for more popcorn that sat in the small bowl in front of you.

“What’s up with you?” Luke asks, his voice slightly annoyed as he looks at you. He seems confused like he’s completely oblivious to everything that happened today.

“What do you think is up with me?” You ask, finally turning to look at him, e/c eyes meeting the hazel ones you were so fond of.

Luke stares back at you with the same intensity, eyes looking over your blanket-covered figure before realization dawned on his face. Yet, with the realization, annoyance seemed to follow closely behind, “Is this because I embarrassed you in front of your crush?”

“I don’t have a crush on Nick!” Your voice is slightly louder than you had intended, but you don’t bother to apologize anyway.

Maybe you were both overreacting, and you were getting a little too defensive but you couldn’t help it. Luke didn’t seem to listen to you, you had already told him you didn’t like Nick, couldn’t he just listen to you for once in his life?

“Why are you shouting? I’m just asking a question,” Luke says, his voice calm. You had never expected the day where Luke would be the voice of reason between the two of you but here we are.

Eyes looking back up to meet Luke’s, a frown falls onto your face. Sighing, you feel guilt pool in your stomach, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

“It’s alright, y/n. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you in the first place. I’m really sorry,” You’re pretty sure that’s the first time you have ever heard Luke apologize to anyone, and you’re surprised at how sincere he sounded. Maybe Luke does care about your feelings more than you expected him to.

Soon enough, the calm and comfortable atmosphere you have created in the room because uncomfortable as you both sit in a silence. You don’t know what to say, or what to do but thankfully, Luke saves you from that.

“Listen, I- uh,” Luke hesitates to speak, feeling nervous when your attention is turned back to him. His gaze looks down at the bed before glancing back up, looking very fidgety under your gaze, “I’m sorry for what I did this morning. I don’t know I just seen Nick, and I thought you guys liked each other and I didn’t like it so I embarrassed you in front of him and that’s not okay.”

“You didn’t like it?” You ask with a smirk, quoting what Luke said as your smirk goes a bit wider. Noticing your words, Luke’s eyes go a little bit wider as he starts to stutter but you quickly end his stuttering, “Were you jealous, Patterson?”

It takes him a few moments to respond, your full body turning towards him when you begin to tease him. You had hoped that he was going to get embarrassed in front of you but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

“Maybe I am, what are you gonna do about it?”

[drowningbydegrees]

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers! 

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen​ for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost