#he's just So Heartbroken about it all. and he wishes he could get some kind of closure or something. but there IS none.

[godsfavoritescientist]

you’ll always be my favorite ghost - Big God, by Florence + The Machine

[Image description: Lineless digital painting of Ford kneeling in front of the stone statue of Bill, hugging it and crying. He is in the woods, surrounded by birch trees, with beams yellow light streaming down from the treetops. The grass around Ford is shaded to be reminiscent of the shape of the portal.]

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: jamesp@outlook.wpa.uk 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [18]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 17 | Fic Masterlist | Part 19

Despite the blurring of his vision, Seonghwa desperately stumbled towards the entrance of his estate. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. If anyone noticed his severe wound, it would only be a matter of time before you found out too.

That was the last thing he wanted.

He had tried so hard to hide his injury from you, not wanting to cause you any more worry. Perhaps having Yeosang pursuing you wasn't such a bad thing after all. Unlike the general, the prince wouldn't have to leave for war and risk his life. His Highness also wouldn't have the burden of blood on his hands or the constant fear he instilled in you.

Most importantly, the fourth prince wasn't on the brink of death, bleeding out at this very moment. Prince Yeosang could consistently remain by your side, offering a life even more luxurious than this. Though it pained him to think about leaving you to another man's care, Seonghwa convinced himself that this was all for the best.

His gaze locked on his horse, still waiting by the entrance, servants tending to it. He was determined to ride back to the warzone, if he could survive the journey—or anywhere else, for that matter. He understood that you wouldn't be able to bear seeing him in such a state, regardless of the cruel words he'd uttered just moments ago.

That was the kind of angel you were.

From the beginning, he recognised your heart of gold. It was what endeared you to him so deeply; you were unique in that way. Despite the torture your family had subjected you to, he knew you would never wish ill upon them regardless.

This was all the more reason he couldn't allow you to discover his injury. He knew without a doubt that your heart would soften instantly and forgive him for all he had done. He couldn't afford that; he needed you to despise him. Only then would his absence hurt less, and perhaps, it would steer you toward the prince. You deserved far better than anything he could offer. Despite facing his own mortality, nothing frightened him more than the uncertainty of your well-being in the world he was about to depart from, leaving you behind.

"Master, are you departing so soon?" The servant, looking after the horse, was taken aback by his master's abrupt decision to leave. Everyone had anticipated him staying at least a day to resolve matters with the mistress and spend some time together before returning to the war site.

Seonghwa nodded, striving to maintain his composure, "Yes, assist me onto the horse. I'm needed back at the warzone."

Observing the general's slightly pale and sweaty visage, the servant refrained from commenting on it for fear of angering him. Instead, he bowed, "Of course, master."

But before your husband could even mount his horse, the last person he wanted to encounter at that moment called out to him from behind, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! How dare you try and leave without even saying hello?" He froze at Hongjoong's loud voice, a shiver of apprehension running through him as he glanced back to see his old friend, accompanied by Wooyoung, approaching, "Sir, are you really leaving already?"

Goddamnit, so close.

Meanwhile, across the estate, Yunho and Jongho hurried towards the House of Lotus, only to discover you all alone and heartbroken on the ground. The assistant gasped, rushing to help you up, "Mistress! Are you alright? Where's the general?"

Gazing up at him with tears streaking your cheeks, your heart ached at the mention of Seonghwa. Noticing the physician beside Jongho, eyes darting around urgently, you frowned in confusion, "He left not long ago... What's happening? What's wrong?"

You had remained motionless since your husband's departure, sprawled on the ground with tears streaming down your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden change in his behaviour. Why was he treating you like this? Could there be any truth to his harsh words? Had he already grown tired of you? Just when you thought your anguish couldn't intensify, the anxiety evident on the assistant's and doctor's faces only heightened your dread.

"He left?! I'm sorry, mistress! There's no time to explain. Here, read this, and you'll understand." Jongho exclaimed urgently. Yunho dashed out as soon as he heard your words, prompting the younger man to swiftly shove a crumpled piece of paper into your hands before hurrying after the physician.

As you hastily wiped your tears, your trembling fingers unfolded the crumpled paper to reveal a letter from General Officer Song Mingi addressed to the doctor. Your heart sank to your stomach as you read the hurriedly written words.

'Physician Jung, I hope this letter finds you swiftly, for it bears urgent news concerning General Park. In the recent battle with the enemy forces, he sustained a grave injury inflicted by a weapon laced with viper venom. Upon discovering the nature of the toxin, we immediately recognised the severity of the situation. The venom acts swiftly and ruthlessly, spreading its deadly effects throughout the body if not treated promptly. Time is of the essence. I implore you to attend to the general without delay.'

Letting out a shaky exhale, the letter slipped from your trembling fingers and fell to the ground, the weight of its contents settling heavily in your chest. Every word echoed in your mind, painting a vivid picture of Seonghwa's dire situation. It felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, revealing a truth you hadn't dared to consider before. Had he been in immense pain this entire time?

The thought sent a chill down your spine.

Was it possible that your husband's sudden shift in behaviour, his departure, and harsh words, were all a desperate attempt to protect you from the truth? Was he afraid to burden you with the knowledge of his injury, to face your worry and concern?

Park Seonghwa, you bloody idiot.

Your heart ached at the possibility. Despite the hurtful words he said to you, a wave of empathy washed over you, mingling with the fear and uncertainty swirling within.

With determination fueling every step, you left your quarters in search of the general, resolved to stand by him regardless of the obstacles ahead. Your love for him was unwavering, and you were prepared to fight for him with every fibre of your being. He was mistaken if he thought his attempts to push you away would succeed. You refused to leave his side without a fight.

As you arrived in the main courtyard, your heart lurched at the sight before you. Jongho and Wooyoung were scrambling to hold up your husband, who appeared unconscious, while Hongjoong and Yunho guided them past you, heading towards what you presumed to be Seonghwa's private quarters. Their apologetic glances only added to your distress as you stepped aside to let them pass, your eyes growing wet at the sight of his pale and weakened appearance—something you had never witnessed before.

A wave of fear washed over you as you watched him being ushered away, threatening to consume you whole. The possibility of losing him suddenly felt all too real, and you couldn't bear the thought of a world without him in it.

Regret flooded your mind as you chastised yourself for not being more perceptive to his suffering earlier. How could you have let your emotions cloud your judgement? How could you have missed the signs that he was in such pain? You should have known, should have realised that he was going through something. You should have known that there must have been a good reason for his actions, for his attempts to push you away.

Deep down, you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him, and there had to be a greater purpose behind his actions. All you could do now was have faith in his love and pray for his recovery.

The head maid rushed to your side, her face etched with concern, as she gently steadied you by holding onto your shoulders. You hadn't realised you were swaying until then, your head buried in your hands, "Come, mistress," She said softly, "Let's return to the House of Lotus and wait for good news. The master is in capable hands with Physician Jung. Everything will be alright."

You shook your head, voicing your protest, "But Eunsook, I need to be close to him—"

She smiled gently, squeezing your hands, "I know you do. But you wouldn't want to get in the way, would you? Let the others handle things for now, alright? Master will be just fine; he's much stronger than you think."

With a heavy sigh, you finally nodded in defeat and allowed her to guide you back to your quarters, realising she was right. You wouldn't be of any help to the guys, and it was better to stay out of their way while they worked to treat him at this critical moment.

Please, Yunho. I'm counting on you.

"Jongho, I need you to gather as much echinacea herb as possible from around town. It's the most effective plant for treating venom and relieving pain." The doctor urgently ordered, focusing on removing the layers of clothing from the general.

The assistant bowed, "Yes, Physician Jung!" before swiftly departing with Wooyoung, who had volunteered to assist.

Hongjoong stayed behind to help out, though he struggled to conceal his worry. His hands trembled as he observed the blood staining Seonghwa's clothes and noted the general's pale complexion as he lay almost lifelessly on the bed.

Noticing the dressmaker's distress, Yunho attempted to divert his attention, "So, where's the mistress?"

Clearing his throat to dispel the growing lump, the older man responded with a strained voice, "The last I saw, Eunsook took her back to the House of Lotus."

The doctor nodded, mustering a smile, "Good, it's best she doesn't see him like this. Now, hyung, I need you to focus and keep your emotions in check. Can you do that?"

Blinking rapidly, Hongjoong straightened up, determined to shake off the previous scene. Seonghwa had passed out shortly after spotting him and Wooyoung, halting any attempt to mount his horse. The surge of fear the dressmaker felt then was beyond words. But now, he knew he had to concentrate. Hearing Yunho use "hyung" after so long was grounding, a reminder that emotions had no place in their current situation. He nodded resolutely, "Of course. Just tell me what to do."

Together, they swiftly removed the general's bloodied clothes and tended to his wound, expecting a deep gash but finding only a surface graze. They were puzzled by the discrepancy between the amount of blood and the minor injury. Fortunately, it seemed the venom hadn't spread far; the discolouration was limited to the immediate area around the wound.

The physician concluded that Seonghwa's loss of consciousness was likely due to exhaustion and lack of proper treatment rather than the severity of the injury itself. With the herb they were gathering, he should recover fully in a few weeks.

Right on cue, Jongho and Wooyoung arrived back at the estate, slightly out of breath but carrying an abundance of echinacea as requested by Yunho. Without delay, the group of servants assigned to the doctor immediately sprang into action, following his instructions diligently. They divided the batch of herbs in half: one portion was prepared into a paste for external use, while the other was transformed into a tonic for consumption. With both methods employed, they were confident they could expel all traces of the venom from the general's system in no time.

As the first batch of medication was prepared within a few hours, the team of staff assisted Yunho with applying the paste over Seonghwa's wound and feeding him the tonic. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw his condition stabilise. Hongjoong felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the colour gradually return to his friend's face.

Turning to Jongho, the dressmaker spoke, "Go on and fetch the mistress. She must be worried sick about him."

With an enthusiastic bow, the assistant hurried off to find you after receiving an approving nod from the physician, signalling that it was safe for you to visit your husband. When he arrived at your quarters, he found you pacing anxiously. Your steps halted abruptly when he called out, "Mistress!"

You held your breath until the younger man broke into a wide smile, "He's okay. You can go see him now."

A wave of relief washed over you, melting away the fear that had gripped your heart just moments ago. A small part of you had prepared for the worst, imagining a world without Seonghwa by your side, and the thought left you feeling utterly lost and alone. The prospect of becoming a widow, of navigating life without the man who had brought so much happiness into your world, was almost unbearable.

So when Jongho appeared in a rush, your heart leapt into your throat with fear. But as he delivered the news of the general's recovery, you couldn't contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you thanked the assistant.

With a reassuring smile, the younger man gently led you towards your husband, guiding you to the one person who had always been your anchor in the storm.

As you approached Seonghwa's quarters, your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The memory of your last encounter with him lingered in your mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your thoughts. What if he didn't want to see you? What if his harsh words were a reflection of his true feelings, and he had truly grown tired of your presence?

However, anger also simmered beneath the surface as you contemplated the possibility. How dare he speak to you in such a manner, dismissing your feelings and calling you troublesome? The hurt of his words slowly gave way to indignation as you recalled the promise he had made to protect you from disrespect. Yet, he had been the one to wound you with his callous remarks.

Entering the room, you temporarily pushed aside the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you moments before. Your eyes immediately sought out your husband's still unconscious figure lying on the bed, and all other thoughts faded into the background.

Yunho moved aside respectfully to allow you a clear view, bowing in acknowledgement before addressing you, "Ah, Lady Park, you're here. Well then, I'll leave the general to your care for now. I should probably go and write back to General Officer Song to update him on his superior's status."

You nodded gratefully, offering him a warm smile, "Thank you so much for all your hard work, Physician Jung."

He shook his head modestly, returning your smile, "Please don't mention it, my lady. I'm just doing my job. We've given him the first batch of medication so far, and thankfully, his body is responding well to it. I plan to administer this to him daily. I'm confident he should be fully recovered in a few weeks."

Sitting beside Seonghwa on the bed, watching him peacefully asleep, tears welled in your eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily, a reassuring sign that he was still alive, still with you. It felt almost like déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment when he had first discovered your scars, except back then, it was you who lay on the bed.

With a trembling hand, you reached out toward his face, longing to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was truly okay. But before your fingertips could make contact, his combat reflexes kicked in, and he startled you by grabbing your wrist tightly, his eyes snapping open in alarm. As recognition dawned on his face, he relaxed his grip, softening at the sight of you.

"It's you..."

His reaction, though simple, was more than enough to convince you that he still felt the same for you. Instant relief filled your being, realising that all your previous worries about him growing tired of you were for nothing. You should have known better than to doubt his feelings for you.

After a moment, as if recalling your earlier exchange, he released your hand and turned away, attempting to maintain a stoic expression, "What are you still doing here? Aren't you angry with me?"

You scoffed, withdrawing your hand and crossing your arms over your chest, "How long do you plan to keep up this facade? Wasn't it enough that you said those hurtful things to me earlier? Calling me a burden and suggesting I leave you for another man."

At that, Hongjoong and Wooyoung interjected, reminding you both of their presence. The dressmaker shot up from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and anger, "He said what?! Park Seonghwa, you'd better have a damn good explanation, or I swear I'll knock some sense into you again—"

The private investigator quickly intervened, slapping a hand over the older man's mouth and offering a sheepish smile to you and the general, "Oh gosh, I apologise for him. We'll step outside to give you both some privacy to talk things over."

Once you were alone, your husband sighed heavily before sitting up, stubbornly dismissing your attempt to help him, "Listen, I meant what I said. Perhaps considering Prince Yeosang would be beneficial for you. You want happiness, don't you? You'd find it with a husband who doesn't have to leave, risking his life in wars. Someone who isn't stained with blood, someone who isn't a complete monster. It's for the best."

Your fists clenched as you glared at him, "Who are you to dictate what's best for me, General Park? You said it yourself, I'm my own person now, capable of making my own choices. I can do what I want and love who I want. Shouldn't that be left up to me?"

When he remained silent and continued to avoid your gaze, you pressed on, "And yes, I do want happiness. But how can I find it if I'm not with the man I love?"

At that, you sensed his resolve faltering.

Sighing, you reached over to cover his hand with yours, "There, I've said it. I love you, you moron. I don't want anyone else but you. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't care about what you've done to those people who call themselves my family; they deserved it, and I've forgiven you for it. I just... all I wanted was the truth and an apology from you. Instead, all you've given me were hurtful words. But I understand now. You were just scared, weren't you?"

Your heart fell when he still refused to meet your gaze, "Or was I mistaken? Did you truly mean what you said, wanting me gone?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his tight jaw, a clear sign of his restraint, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me then. If you can do that, I'll go as you wish."

Finally, he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading, almost begging you not to push him. You couldn't comprehend his stubbornness; was it just his pride getting in the way? With a defeated nod, you relented, "I understand. You must truly want me to leave and be with His Highness. I suppose there's no point in staying where I'm not wanted. Goodbye, General Park."

Just as you began to pull your hand away and rise from your seat, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. His whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, "No, I'm sorry... You're right; I didn't mean any of what I said. I love you too, my wife. Please don't go."

With a tired exhale, you melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as you buried your face against his shoulder. Each comforting squeeze seemed to ease the heartache you had been carrying, restoring a sense of wholeness within you. This was where you belonged, in his arms.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" You murmured softly.

He chuckled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, "I suppose I am." He admitted with a hint of amusement.

"About damn time you realised it, Park Seonghwa. I've been telling you for years. Disrespect your wife like that again, and I'll make you regret it—" Hongjoong's voice cut through the room as he burst in, followed closely by Wooyoung and Jongho, prompting laughter from you as your husband pulled you closer, using you as a shield.

"Please, he just regained consciousness!" The assistant interjected, defending his master despite earning a stern glare from the dressmaker. Deep down, however, everyone knew Hongjoong couldn't have been happier to see his friend alright.

« Preview of Part 19 »

In the warzone, Mingi paced anxiously, his mind consumed with worry for the general's well-being. It had been only two days since he dispatched the messenger to deliver his urgent letter to Yunho. He could only pray that Seonghwa had made it home safely and that his message had managed to reach the physician in time.

Despite his concerns, the strategist forced himself to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. He delved into refining his current strategies and devising new contingency plans for any potential scenarios that might arise before his superior's return.

Before long, a breathless soldier burst into the main tent with urgent news, rambling away in a panic, "Bad news, Officer Song! We were on standby at the border when..."

Mingi placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "Woah, breathe. Calm down and tell me what you saw."

After composing himself, the soldier continued, "Sir, Ruhon soldiers have been sighted approaching once again!"

Oh, crap.

He struggled to understand why this was happening. General Park had defeated most of the enemy forces in the last battle. Where could Ruhon possibly be sourcing this new influx of soldiers from? With the general absent, the strategist knew he would have to take command of the army despite his lack of recent battlefield experience.

But there was no other choice.

I hope you're happy with the outcome HAHA y'all, it's hilarious how accustomed I've grown to writing angst for this story that it felt incredibly weird to write a happy scene. Only two parts left, yippee!

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[piracytheorist]

The Briar Siblings' Lies

It's very interesting that in the family of lies and secrets, the lies of the Briar siblings are included, and I'm pretty sure that will play a role whenever they find out about each other.

I expect Yor to be heartbroken and angry at Loid when she'll find out his lies, but I'd also expect her to be heartbroken and disappointed when she finds out how much Yuri lied to her.

Yor might have kept her own very dangerous secrets, but there are huge differences in their circumstances.

Yor took up her assassin gig when she was just a teenager, orphaned and with a little brother to take care of. Amidst the cold war brewing, there would be various criminal organizations looking for people to drag in, and a poor, desperate, kind, and almost supernaturally strong teenage girl was the perfect recruit for Garden.

Whether this is Garden's initiative or not, Yor has a strong determination to kill her targets as quickly and as painlessly as possible, along with avoiding unnecessary bloodshed. She has studied human anatomy specifically for this very reason, to be able to kill her victims with mercy. She's realistic about the situations she's in, but if talking things through is even a tiny bit possible, she'll give it a try.

Though her morals are slightly skewed for the average civilian - it's understandable to kill someone in self defense, but her main targets are situations where she plays judge, jury and executioner - she's still retained a lot of her humanity that allows her to be a kind person and a caring sister, mother and wife.

And then you have Yuri.

Yuri fell victim to a more sinister kind of indoctrination - extremism and bigotry. Having grown up in poverty caused by the war and the deaths of his parents, and having an overwhelming wish to protect his sister, he was the perfect target for Ostania's nationalistic propaganda.

But the tragic background leading up to this choice and the want to protect his family is where his similarities with Yor's case end.

Yuri wasn't left with no other choices. Yor was already supporting him financially when he started working for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and that was a job that he could stay at and be independent. He was older than Yor was when she became an assassin. I can assume that some underhanded methods were used to lead him into the duties of the SSS, but even so Yuri had more control of the situation, more choices to choose from, and more information at hand. It's directly opposite to Yor's circumstances.

Yuri tortures people. The SSS specifically want him, despite his young age and lack of experience, exactly because he won't hold anything back, even when it makes him feel conflicted.

The SSS may be taking advantage of the ease with which he tortures people, but it's still something Yuri willingly participates in - and again, considering the fame of the SSS among civilians, it's almost certain Yuri knew what he was getting into. He's giving up his own humanity, going down a path of "us vs. them" and while Yor plays judge on who gets to live, Yuri plays judge on who gets to be treated like a human being.

While two similarly dangerous and demanding professions, and (at least according to what Franky says) following the same government's orders, it's two highly different cases. I think Yuri will be mostly horrified to learn what Yor went through for his sake, but Yor will be very understandably heartbroken. Yuri could understand that Yor had no other choice, but Yor will know that Yuri had all the best choices right in front of him, and yet he chose this.

And it's why I believe this is the revelation that will hurt Yor more. She could explain Twilight's lies by the fact that they didn't know each other before, she could explain Anya's secrets by her young age and innocence, but there will be very little for Yuri to stand on - and the thing is, Yuri knows that. He knows that what he's chosen to become isn't what Yor raised him to be.

Currently he may be seeing himself as a martyr for his cause, that he needed to potentially break his sister's heart in order to protect her and "the country she lives in". He'd rather have her feeling heartbroken and betrayed by him than with her life and safety in danger. He'd rather her hate him than get hurt.

How will it hit him when he realizes she's already been doing the same for him, and has already been endangering her life for over a decade for not only his sake, but for the world in general too? When he realizes all the work he's been doing to protect her was in vain because she has been walking into danger herself all along?

It's a really interesting dynamic, because the revelation could either break them or make them. They both have a very heartwarming background together, they both love each other deeply, but it's a trial they'll both have to go through at some point.

(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[muzansfangs]

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x reader; Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza and Nakime.

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, loss of virginity, language, sugar daddy dynamics, age gap (Muzan is 35, reader is 21), vaginal sex, reference to cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!muzan, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, light choking.

Plot: Kokushibo comes to pick you up and he helps you with the move. During the car ride, Muzan texts you and blatantly tells you that he intends to have sex with you that very night. You spend the day exploring your new house, interacting with the other two bodyguards, until Muzan finally joins you for dinner. He seems genuinely interested in you and your habits and, when he leads you to his bedroom, you can clearly tell he is definitely invested into exploring every inch of your body.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello, there!

I’ve finally been able to update the second part of this short series. I hope you’re going to enjoy the reading and thank you so much for the support you’re showing me! Make sure to read the first part, before you proceed in reading this one. Things are finally getting started down here ;). Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!

PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE| PART FOUR| PART FIVE | PART SIX

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

CORRUPTION.

“How’s Mr. Kibutsuji?” you asked, shooting an interrogative glance at Kokushibo through the rear-view mirror of the car. Time had really flown and, before you could mentally prepare yourself to the radical change in your life, it was already Sunday and you had just locked the front door of your apartment, pestered by uncertainties about your new busy schedule and, most likely, new life-style.

“He is a respectful, classy man, miss L/N” the driver flatly replied, not averting his eyes from the road. It was your third failed attempt to make a small conversation with the stolid man, who was most likely going to be your bodyguard as well. You had had the chance to read all the clauses of the contract and it did not seem unpleasing. Except for your lack of privacy, due to being followed and watched in every step you took by a potential serial killer.

If you had to spend hours in Kokushibo’s company, then you would have liked to know him better, at least.

You sighed and rested your forehead against the cold car window “Yeah, I know. – you said, batting your eyes close for a few seconds – Do you think we could ever be friends? I mean, you’re going to be my shadow for the rest of my life. It’s weird and I… Uhm, well, I’d like to feel comfortable around you” you said, opting for a blatant request.

You were spontaneous, honest, and best known for speaking your thoughts without fear, or remorse. You would have surely not changed your attitude for a contract. Plus, it was not like you were rude. You liked to think yourself free to say and do whatever you pleased. Well, at least, when you were safe from prying eyes.

It took a few seconds for Kokushibo to reply something, but eventually he did and a skeptical “As you wish, ma’am” left his lips.

You rolled your eyes, palming your forehead in defeat. It was a lost cause, was it not? Nevertherless, it was your second time interacting with him. There was still a dim hope of breaking through his detached heart.

“Y/N, call me Y/N” you breathed out, expecting some kind of reaction from the taciturn bodyguard. However, he kept his mouth shut and you realised that, perhaps, Kokushibo was not just a man of few words: he probably found it odd that ‘the boss’s fiancé’ wanted to strike up a conversation with him.

You were about to pest him again with another sapless question, when your phone buzzed. You thought it was one of your friends, or maybe your collegues from the small restaurant you worked in. Some of them were heartbroken, when you announced them you had to resign for personal reasons. You could only imagine their faces, when they would have seen your face on the newspapers as Muzan’s wife.

You had still not filled up anyone with the fresh news, chiefly because you were not sure about the outcome of this arranged relationship.

However, when you read the text, you wheezed and clasped your hand over your mouth not to draw Kokushibo’s attention. Funny how you had acted as an attention seeker for fifteen minutes straight and now you were practically ducking your head down not to let him see your reflection in the rear-view mirror. Two words. He had opted for two mere words and your world had stopped revolving.

MUZAN: Sex. Tonight.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you had to reread the text over and over again to check if you had read it correct. You had exchanged numbers before you left his house and you expected him to text you, at least, once or twice in the past few days. Yet, he had not called or even sent you a trivial message. Nothing. You did not quite expect him to demand a sexual performance from you, out of the blue. You were totally in, of course you were. Muzan Kibutsuji was handsome as Hell, you had always drooled after him, whenever the daily reports showed pictures and videos of him, especially during a conference.

You had accepted the terms of the contract without blinking. Having a sexual intercourse with him was a pleasing activity.

The thing was you were a virgin. Well, you had only experience with giving oral. That was the furthest you had gone with your ex. You knew that sooner or later it would have happened and you were electrified by the idea of giving yourself to him. He was a famous womanizer, unfortunately, but he was surely someone who had plenty of experience and knew how to treat a woman in bed.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” you uttered under your breath, cheeks flushing up as you stared at the screen of your phone thunderstruck.

“What did you say, mi–… Y/N?” Kokushibo said, an ounce of concern and awkwardness echoing in his words. At the sound of your name leaving his lips, you squealed out in joy and almost forgot that fact that he had just heard you swearing. It did not matter anymore because he had just made progress, censuring himself even!

“Ah, yes! You got it, then! – you beamed, leaning forward until your chin almost rested over his shoulder – We’re going to be best buddies!” you said, watching how his hold on the steering wheel grew tighter. The tips of his ears were now tinted in a vivid shade of red and you chuckled, before sinking back onto your seat and texted a reply to Muzan.

You: I’d love that, Mr. Kibutsuji.

It did not take a lot for him to reply and, when he did, your breath hitched in your throat and you shoved your phone back into your bag.

Muzan: In a few hours, you’re going to forget how to properly sit for a week.

It was definitely going to be an unforgettable first day at the Kibutsuji manor.

♚

You expected to share the bedroom with Muzan. He had not mentioned that you could pick a guest room and sleep in there, until you felt comfortable enough to lay down next to him. You were taken aback, naturally, but you were glad he wanted you to settle down without any pressure. He was not imposing his authority on you, his presence in your life was not suffocating you… Yet.

He seemed a gentleman, but you barely knew him. What if things degenerated? You refused to believe it and all you focused on was the present and, as for now, he was not troubling you in any way.

Once you were finally done unpacking, Kokushibo told you he would have taken his leave to run an errand for Muzan and you were free to do whatever you pleased in the meanwhile.

“Wait, can I come with you? I… Well, I don’t want to be alone” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as you shot the most pleading glance at the man you had enjoyed annoying all day long.

Kokushibo quirked an eyebrow up “You are not alone, actually. – he simply replied, straightening his jacket – Douma and Akaza are in the basement. I can accompany you there…” the man said, folding his arms against his chest. Only then, when he flexed his arms, you noticed how muscular he actually was.

He had large shoulders, a broad chest and, most likely, a chiseled set of abs down his stomach. Well, damn, did Muzan really have to choose hot men as his bodyguards? Ignoring your dirty, inappropriate thought, you vigorously nodded your head and followed him down the corridor, hoping that the other two assassins were not as good-looking as Kokushibo. Your hopes, though, crushed down, when, hopping down from the elevator, you were met with two piercing golden eyes and fascinating multicolored hues.

The taller one, silvery hair and a malicious grin plastered over his face was the first one who spoke “Ah, there she is! I knew she was the perfect candidate for this job. Such a pity I could not ask her out…” he complained, discarding his phone on the counter of the bar area and strolling towards you.

He was magnetic, his smile so bright and malicious that could have enlighten the whole city during a blackout.

“Back off, Douma. – the short guy, sipping a glass of what you assumed to be cognac, hissed from the stool he was sitting on – Touch her and I’ll shoot you” he stated, slamming the shot onto the counter carelessly.

You let out a nervous laughter and flashed a thin-lipped smile at them, before greeting the rest of Muzan’s army “Akaza and Douma, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N” you introduced yourself, waving your hand at them sheepishly.

You wondered if Akaza really meant what he had said and your eyes betrayed your thoughts, making Douma sneer and grasp your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel his breath fanning the tip of your nose, his slender frame towering over you as his half-lidded, mystical eyes scanned your face. He really did not know what personal space was, did he?

“Ah, look at you! Adorable, just adorable! Akaza loves to bully me, but he could never lay a finger on the second in command! Muzan-sama would kill him himself! – Douma chimed, tugging at your hand softly and leading you towards the bar – Now, now, let’s grab a glass of scotch and have a chit-chat, shall we?” he suggested, winking at you.

You had no idea of what to do and say. He seemed friendly, far way easier to talk to than Kokushibo, and, since they were going to be your protectors too, it was a good idea getting to know them better.

Before you could talk, Kokushibo’s deep voice pierced your ears and you both froze in your tracks “Take care of her. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes” he stated, glancing at the two men menacingly, before nodding your head in your direction and hastily leaving the basement.

You watched him leave, your stomach clenching, as you realised that you would have been able to see Muzan in a while. You were not nervous about the dinner, but you had to admit that the idea of undressing in front of him and moaning into his mouth was doing numbers on you.

What if he changed his mind because you had almost zero experience?

You sighed and Douma snaked his arm around your waist, leading you to the stool next to Akaza’s one. As you sat down, you swallowed the lump in your throat and propped your elbows on the counter, eyes transfixed on the crystal bottle of liquor in front of you.

“Can I have a glass of whatever it is, please?” you whispered, earning a chuckle from Douma.

“Bad day?” Akaza asked you, reaching his hand out to grab a glass and the bottle you had been staring at almost lustfully.

You shrugged and flicked your gaze up to meet his golden eyes “Kind of… – you breathed out, as he slided the now filled glass towards you on the polished surface of the counter – I’m not used to be treated like a princess. Everything’s great, don’t get me wrong. I guess it’ll take some time for me to adapt” you said, grasping the glass and dawning a small sip of the alcoholic drink. It burned down your throat and you took a deep breath not to cough up at their faces.

Akaza grinned and cocked his head to the side, his pink eyelashes contrasting with the shimmering hues beneath them “You know, I thought you were a bitch. That’s because Douma found you and he usually has bad tastes in women” he said, making you choke on yiur drink.

What?

You settled the glass back on the counter, eyes daggers on Akaza as he just giggled at your reaction. What did he mean by ‘Douma found you’? You knew that someone had clearly spied on you, you just were startled to find out it was the jovial silver-haired man who had welcomed you in the basement.

“Yeah, he’s stalked you for months!” he added, running his ringed fingers through his spiky hair.

Your head whipped, eyes finally locking with Douma’s ones, demanding at least an apology for having invaded your privacy “How many photographs of me have you taken?” you asked him, quirking an eyebrow up.

He smiled brightly at you and shrugged “Uhm… Probably over twothousand. You know, Muzan-sama became obsessed with you when I showed him the first picture of you I had taken!” he casually declared, as if it was not the creepiest thing to say to someone.

Muzan became obsessed with you?

You shivered, biting the insides of your cheeks in discomfort. How many things did he know about you? Why was he so obsessed with you, a common civilian who was trying to graduate and pay for her studies by working night-shifts at a restaurant?

“Tell me you have not broken into my house, at least” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Silence. Did he?

You gasped and clasped a hand over your mouth in shock and Douma jabbed his finger at Akaza accusingly “Hey, I was not alone! He came with me countless times!” he protested, earning a scornful look from the pink-haired guy.

“Sure I did! I was afraid you were going to follow her into the bathroom, you perv!” Akaza yelled, slamming his fist onto the counter and leaning towards him, despite you being in his way.

“Okay, okay! Stop it you two!” you interjected, blocking Akaza’s view on the taller man.

“See? You made Y/N-chan upset!” Douma rebuked Akaza, folding his arms against his chest and giving him an annoyed side-eye.

Well, they were hilarious. You were glad that two out of the three bodyguards were not as stiff as Kokushibo. They were amusing, even, and they had made the revelation about how you ended up in Muzan’s house less scary than it was. A politician could not be an saint and Muzan was surely far from being one.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a feminine voice echoed from the entrance of the basement and you three switched your attention on the brunette woman staring at you.

She was probably a little bit older than you. Long, chocolate brown hair and crimson-red lipstick exalting her pale skin, she wore a black tailleur, the skirt being way too short though, and revealing a black, leather suspender with a sharp knife in it. She seemed lathal and she was absolutely beautiful, although you could barely see her eyes.

“Master Muzan’s waiting for you, miss L/N” she coldly said and you clumsily hopped down from the stool to walk towards the elevator not to piss her off. She did not seem like the type you would have messed with, plus you had never seen her before.

“Ah, Nakime-dono… – Douma suavely addressed her – I wondered where were you”.

You passed by her and she bowed her head at you “Enjoy your meal, ma’am. Nobody will disturb you and the Master tonight” she said and you felt a wave of cold sweat running down your back. Were you ready for it?

♚

You were sitting across from him. His plum red eyes boring into yours, as he watched you bringing the spoon to your mouth and repress a moan of pleasure, when the delicious rice met your yearning taste buds.

You had been talking about everything. He seemed eager to know everything about you. Your studies, what you would have loved to do after your graduation, your hobbies, your family. He found you fascinating, adorable.

“It looks like I’ve chosen something you like, doesn’t it? – he commented, a faint smile adorning his lips as you blushed and shyly nodded your head – You can ask the chef to cook whatever you please for lunch tomorrow” he added, clearing his throat.

Seriously?

You smiled at him and settled the silver spoon onto the now empty plate “Thank you so much, Muzan. I will try to pick something you can enjoy too!” you said softly.

He did not reply, he just stood up, consuming the five strides dividing you two in a nick of time and swiftly grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. It was time for him to claim you, was it not? Your cheeks seemed to burn under his intense gaze and firm touch and you mouth went suddenly dry.

“Come with me, baby” he whispered, after a few seconds. His hand left your chin, his fingertips grazing down the tender flesh of your neck, travelling down its length and stopping right above your cleavage.

You nodded your head and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you up and closer to him. He leaned down, until his nose brushed against yours and you batted your eyes close in anticipation. You felt butterflies fluttering into your stomach and, by the time he swept you off of your feet and cradled you in his arms, you knew he had already won your heart.

You clung to him, feet dangling in the air as he led you to his majestic bedroom. He banged the door open, entering in and not caring about closing it behind you. When he dropped ruthlessly onto the bed, your eyes snapped open and you saw the lustful gaze he had trailed on you. The tent in his pants was prominent and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, biting on your lower lip nervously.

He smirked down at you unbuckling the belt with one hand “Take your clothes off. Now” he demanded, throwing it away and unzipping his pants.

“Yes, sir” you murmured, proceeding in kneeling on the bed to pull the simple pink dress you were wearing above your head. You felt his gaze on you, you felt it soaking in every curve of your body, searching for the proof that you were as excited as him. And he found it.

Your white virginal panties had an evident dump he did not fail to notice. You stared up at him and he pulled his shaft out of the tight fabric of his black boxers, giving it a few pumps. It was huge, it would have hurt like Hell and you gulped nervously as you hesitantly pulled your panties down your thighs, exposing your untouched flower at his vicious eyes.

“Fuck” he grunted, crawling over the bed and grasping you by your hips. You squirmed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his fingers snatching the panties away from your ankles and discarding them somewhere behind him.

“S-Sir, please… Be gentle, I’m a virgin” you blurted out, earning a dumbfounded glance from the raven-haired man.

He could not believe his eyes. You, the young and lovely girl he was about to mark as his property was actually a virgin. He chuckled, parting your legs and grazing your chaste entrance with his pointer finger. You shuddered under his touch, your juices coating the pad of his digit as he slowly shoved it inside you.

You yelped, his other hand pushing your hips down to keep you in place “Your admission just made me feral. Are you under birth-control?” he huskily asked you, pumping the finger in and out of soaked, tight cunt.

You whined and nodded your head at him “Y-yes… Yes, I am, Master” you winced, as he deliberately decided to add another finger into you. He was loving every second of it, your moans music to his ears. He had even declined Nakime’s avances earlier. Something he was not used to, actually, and he had not even called Daki for the usual morning quickie in his office. Nothing, all because he wanted to focus on you. Only on you.

“Good. That’s good, love, because I’ll cum into you” he rasped, removing his fingers from your core and lining his shaft at your entrance. You held your breath, cheeks heating up even more at his words, as you boldly wrapped your legs around him.

He was still fully clothed and you were so lost into the depths of your mind that you had not realised it until now. Why was he fucking you like that? Was it his kink?

And with a quick, painful thrust he entered you. You let out a throaty moan, the pain, mixed with an unfamiliar pressure into your neather regions made your arch your back and grip the red bedsheets into your fists so tightly you thought they were going to rip into shreds.

Muzan grunted, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly to capture the tear you had shedded, before planting a kiss over your plumped lips. You relaxed, he stayed still for a few minutes, before he pulled out and thrusted back in gently. You moaned into his mouth, your hand, cupping his smooth cheek as you whispered a weak “Please, don’t stop” against his lips.

Muzan bit your lip softly, tugging at it to assert his authority on you “Hush, baby. Moan for me until I fill you up to the brim”.

You kissed him again, Muzan returning it as he started to pick up a faster pace. He thrusted into you, his mouth latching onto your collabone as he left a trail of wet kisses down it. You were his. You were going to fall for him, no matter how long it would have taken.

You were his doll, his precious baby, his goddess.

“A–Ah, Muzan… I-I think I’m close… It’s good, it’s so good” you breathed out then, as his hand grasped your throat and gave it a tight squeeze. You moaned, eyes rolling at the back of your skull, as your spongy walls clamped down his cock.

He growled, his hips rutting into you as he neared his climax and, just a few moments before he spurted his seed into you, you orgasmed around him. Muzan lowly moaned, burying his face onto the crook of your sweaty neck as he finished inside you. He stayed sheathed into you for a few minutes, before pulling out of your aching core and rolling over his back.

You could not believe what had just happened. You could not believe you had just slept with the next President, you could not believe he had come into you.

“You can sleep here, if you want” he casually said then, snapping you out of your stream of consciousness. He was not laying next to you anymore, he was on his feet and walking towards the private bathroom of his bedroom, undressing and leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

Well, what a first day it had been.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,506

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was everywhere.

When you were supposed to be training the younger hunters, when you were telling stories to the children, when you were eating meals with the rest of the clan.

No matter where you were, you could count on him being nearby, keeping an eye on you as if you were his and only his.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought, mainly because you knew that, no matter what, you would never belong to anyone. Especially not to him.

Though… in a way, it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much about who you were around. Annoying as it was, he was very eager to show that he still cared about you despite all these years of separation.

No matter what, though, you were determined to not allow him to get into your head again. Not this time. Not ever again.

Gritting your fists, you set yourself into the mindspace of the task you had to do now; some one on one training with a young student who was currently a bit farther behind than the others.

Walking along the trodden dirt path, you came to a clearing surrounded by thickly growing plants, trees towering over you as if reaching to the blue hued sky above. You draw in a slow breath, letting it out slowly as you wait for your student to show up, bow resting against your back.

“I hope you don’t mind. I convinced Ìtseì to let me have this training session with you. I could use some practice with you.”

Exasperated, you turn to level Neteyam with your best, coldest glare, only to find that he was unfazed by your hostility. He simply smirked back at you, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his bow from behind his back.

“Are you sure you still know how to use a bow? After all that time, swimming with the reef people… it probably left you extremely rusty.”

“Ah, there’s that spitfire I’ve been waiting for,” Neteyam responded, notching one of his feathered arrows. Intricately carved, delicate and deadly. Quick to pierce hearts, sharp enough to end a life in one shot.

Just like how he ended the life you’d had before.

You shake your head, regathering your thoughts to what you needed to do.

“You’re a big boy. Help yourself. Since Ìtseì did not show up, I will go and hunt by myself,” you respond, turning your back to the male, fully intent on hunting alone.

Except, he didn’t leave you alone.

You were beginning to wonder if this was a behavioral pattern that had been forged into him by his father from a young age. After all, Neteyam followed Jake around all the time as a child, ready and waiting for orders or instructions that only he could take care of.

That had to be the reason for his stalker-like behavior.

Pushing aside heavy, large leaves and small viney shrubs, you could hear him behind you, despite the fact that he was very obviously trying hard not to make a sound.

“Following me is not going to get you on my good side,” you warn softly, throwing the comment over your shoulder aggressively as you walked a bit faster.

He wasn’t discouraged, nor did he seem to be bothered by your sharp words or your dismissive behavior. In fact, it seemed to spur him on more, his footsteps speeding up so that he could catch up with you.

“Come on, Y/n. Can’t we just talk? You and I, together, like we used to do. Please.”

His fingers wrap around your wrist and you yank away, at the same time swinging your bow at him, instinctive training kicking in. He ducked down, barely missing the slash of your bow in the area where his face had been mere seconds ago.

“Do not touch me, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan. I am not your yawne. I am not your childhood friend. I am not your toy or your plaything. You have destroyed everything we once had. You have crumbled every bridge that sat between you and I. I want nothing to do with you.”

This time, he falters, a look of horror and shock on his face. But you aren’t really sure if that was directed towards the fact that you’d tried to hit him or the words that had just spilled from your lips.

You turn away to hide the tears that were now burning hot and fresh in your eyes, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. He didn’t even deserve that.

Your feet move before you can think about it, taking you rapidly farther away from the stunned form of the boy who’d ruined your life. You were certain he’d leave you alone now. After all, he was smart, quick to understand the things people were telling him.

Or at least, he used to be.

Your ears twitch to the sound of him running to catch up once more and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Obviously, the ways of the water have dumbed down that intelligence, considering how desperate he was to ignore your stinging-sharp words and your ice-cold disposition towards him specifically.

“Y/n, stop walking.”

You don’t belong to him. You never did. So why did your feet falter in your path? Why did you hesitate to keep going, even as you turn to face him once more?

“Open up, Y/n. I’m back. I’m here. I’m here and I want to talk to you. I want to fix what I broke before. Please, let me explain myself to you.”

There’s a hint of desperation in that smooth tone of his, a soft drop of pleading that didn’t belong to the body that spoke the words. He’d never been the begging type before.

You open your mouth, prepared to respond in the same way as before, when a sharp sting erupted in your cheek and you tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Your hand slides up, cupping your sore cheek, as you stare up in shock at the male looming over you, a new expression on his face. Unreadable and hard to pick apart.

“I just want you to hear me out. Just onc- oomph!”

Before he’s finished, you’re launching yourself at him, slamming your shoulder into his abdomen and knocking him to the ground, the soft grass beneath your feet doing nothing to cushion his fall.

“You don’t deserve my attention!” you shriek, grabbing and yanking at his braids as you wrestle him in an attempt to win the little brawl. He’s fighting back, which you had to give him credit for. It wasn’t something you’d expected from him.

Rolling in the grass, disrupting plants and innocent, wandering wildlife, biting and scratching and pulling at anything you can get your hands on, you realize he’s not going to let you win easily.

And for once in your life since he left, you welcome this. Everyone else had been taking it easy on you, seeing as how you were pretty destroyed by his departure. Things had been done for you if they seemed to be too hard. Your parents had doted on you for the past three years, trying to make up the love that you’d lost.

You needed a challenge.

And he was providing it.

It was exciting, exhilarating, full of promises of a frustrated loss or an awarding victory.

You put your all into this little sparring match, putting all of your otherwise-useless training to use. When it became clear that he was doomed to lose, he still refused to fold, fighting until the very end.

When he tapped out, the sensation of a satisfactory win filled you up inside and you couldn’t help the grin that began to grow on your face.

You sat in the grass, working to catch your breaths, silence spreading out between the small clearing you’d both found yourself in.

It was nice, peaceful and calm. Like the days you’d shared as children, playing in the streams under careful adult watch or laying in the grass and staring up at the sky as his siblings ran around picking flowers and playing games.

“Please, talk to me,” he murmured after a while, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had begun to fill you with melancholy as you reminisced on the days of your childhood.

You stand slowly, dusting yourself off as he watched you, trying to come up with the right way to explain yourself.

“I can’t,” you respond, finally meeting his gaze.

“Neteyam, you cannot fix this. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’ve moved on with my life. Don’t you think it is about time that you moved on with yours as well?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even bother to get up, and you grab your discarded items from the ground, not saying another word.

Yet… as you walk away, you realize with a sinking heart, that perhaps, you’d not gotten over him as much as you wanted to believe you had.

Taglist // @earthling55

[mari-the-bimbo]

hi! can you write something about dorm mate!geto arguing with reader but then they would apologize (idk whose fault it was) please 🙏

A/N: Thanks for the idea bby!! Plot twist: they don’t apologise, you know I love miscommunication tropes right? 😋

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends

It’s Friday night and you find yourself at one of Gojo party friends’ party again. It’s kind of a tradition. You, Gojo and Geto heading out for a party so get that much needed social time in your busy lives. You don’t join them all the time, but when you do, you feel good.

You and Shoko laugh at the drunk Utahime who was having the time of her life. You enjoyed watching your usually uptight friend letting herself go once in a while.

But when she started loudly explaining why Gojo was unfuckable, you and Shoko decided maybe it was time to leave the party.

“Come on Princess” Shoko says sarcastically to Utahime, while you help bring the drunk girl to her feet. “Let’s get you home. Hey y/n, you need a ride home babe?” Shoko asks, swirling the car keys around her finger.

“Nah I’m good thanks Shoko” you say with a smile. “I’ll see if Geto’s ready to go” you add, knowing Gojo was probably hooking up with someone right now.

“Cool. See you later chick” Shoko says and you wave goodbye to them before walking back to find Geto. You check your phone, 00:31 it reads. Past midnight, okay time to leave a party right?

You squint, looking to find the black long haired man, but when you finally spotted him, you wished you didn’t.

Your handsome dorm mate sat on a sofa, with some pretty girl wrapping her slender arms around his broad shoulders. He whispers something in her ear with his signature lazy smirk, the girl laughs brightly. No doubt Geto said a dry but flirty joke, something you thought was reserved only for you.

You think you feel a bit sick. Heartbroken was what you actually felt. He hasn’t seen you yet, you hope it stays that way. You hope he didn’t see you foolishly waiting on him, while he got cosy with some other girl.

Was it always like this? Did he always get cosy with other girls but your delusions made you think it was only you? How silly. What you once thought was a sweet blooming romance between you and a dear friend was nothing more than a minor situationship to him.

You turn your heel and speed out the house before you could embarrass yourself anymore.

1:01 AM

You swirl your ramen absentmindedly in the pot, hoping the warm noodles will fill the emptiness you feel in your stomach.

Suddenly you hear the door open and shut. You didn’t dare look up, there’s so much to stay but you choose to stay silent, hoping Geto won’t notice you in the dim lighting in his drunk state.

But that never works.

“You hungry doll?” Geto chuckles as he spots you. You don’t answer, scared your voice will crack.

“Well how about I help out and make you some hot cocoa yeah?” He says, with a smile that feels fake to you now.

“No. I don’t want a drink” you say abruptly, you cringe internally, knowing how rude you sounded, but you can’t help but feel resentful.

Geto stops in his tracks, slowly turning towards you, long hair strands framing his face.

“You okay hun?”

You wince, ‘hun’ was the last thing you needed to be called by the man who just broke your heart.

You silently just stare at your ramen, trying to play it cool, be the chill girl who doesn’t really care, but you already messed up. You were a born a person who cared too much.

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“What? Why?” He says, an unimpressed frown on his handsome face. You stare silently at your ramen again.

You sigh when Geto pushes in front of you and turns off the stove so that he can have your attention.

“Look at me and tell me what’s wrong” he says.

You cross your arms almost in defence, disobeying him by staring out the window instead. “What am I to you Geto?”

“My favourite girl, of course” he answered softly in a heartbeat, taking a step closer to you, but you move backwards.

You shake your head. “No” you say, “that’s not what I am. What is our relationship? Are we friends or more?”

The room falls silent.

You sigh, wishing you never asked and hurt your own feelings. The silence answered your question. Friends.

“If we are friends, then we should put some distance between us” you say bravely.

You look up at Geto, to find the usually composed, chill guy look shattered. Black eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open. You’ve never seen Geto look off guard, you almost feel bad.

“Oi… what do you mean by that?” You can hear the anger bubbling through his throat, he’s trying his best to stay calm.

“I mean stop flirting and touching me Geto, do that with the girls you’re romantically interested in” you assert your stance, slightly raising your voice to your own surprise.

“Thats-“ Geto starts but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He pauses before starting, now stepping away from you.

“I’m.. sorry I caused any inconvenience for you. I won’t do it again.” He says formally, putting his hands in his pockets and walking out the small dorm kitchen. Black hair stands dangling in front of his face as he keeps his head down.

Leaving you alone with your broken heart again.

[lorelune]

(a continuation of this piece)

"i was surprised that you were late today."

jing yuan says halfway through lunch. he speaks over the rim of his teacup. his lips are curled in an easy, gentle smile. his shoulders are relaxed, posture slack as he leans against his own bent leg.

he's barely touched his meal.

(you have a full bowl as well.)

"i got caught up with work." a lie. a blatant one. you're never late for lunches, and you always let jing yuan know if you even have an inkling of being a few minutes past your appointed time. you're careful about it. meticulous.

your visit to blade has made you careless. dulled you with a grief that is eating you alive.

jing yuan hums thoughtfully. you hope he won't press this. he's-- he's an unusually calm character when he wants to be. you're his lover-- dutifully, horribly reliable and loyal. he has no reason to doubt you.

(except, you'd spent the first half of the day in the shackling prison with its beau acratic hoops and horrors, all to see yingxing. to be heartbroken all over again.)

you thought it would bring you some closure. in retrospect, this was more wishful thinking. all its left you with is an hot, branding ache in your chest. a wound ripped open anew. it had already scarred over, albeit imperfectly healed.

(jing yuan never minded this. he could tell he carried things with you, he'd both told and shown you this. and truthfully, how could you not? being undying does not lend itself to happiness. it lends itself to an accumulation of sin that cannot be undone. cannot be lessened.)

"dear?" jing yuan asks, voice mirthful and sweet. "are you with me?"

"yes." you force yourself present. you hope your eyes aren't too puffy. "i am distracted. what did you say?"

"i asked you what kept you at work." jing yuan asks, so easy. so kind. "if lady fu is working you to hard, i am happy to arrange a few days off for you. is a vacation in order?"

"no, it's alright." you rush, stumble over your words. "i should've planned better is all. how is your lunch?"

jing yuan rests his chin on his palm, "i'm not very hungry today. i apologize, dearest."

"you don't need to apologize. it happens." you assure him. "i'll make you a meal tomorrow. just let me know what you're in the mood for."

"you spoil me."

"i simply treat you well." you tell him. you're grateful you're able to. that the general lets you close enough to cook for him and feed him morsels and lounge on his personal terrace in the artificial sun each day during noontime.

"you do." jing yuan says softly. reverent. he gets like this sometimes. moony and a little dumb about it. so genuine and earnest it breaks you.

(it makes your lie feel that much more sour.)

jing yuan opens his mouth to say more, but promptly redirects as yanqing arrives, swords floating around his back. he and the general talk, carouse for a moment. yanqing has had yet another day of sparring. that's good. that's nice.

(yingxing doesn't remember you. only you are burdened with this memory. will this feeling eat you alive? it's-- it feels worse than it did when you were younger. more naive. when things fell apart and you were burdened with standing by and watching the world you loved so much, with the people you loved so much fall apart. even jing yuan was away, making a name for himself. proving his worth.)

(you alone bear this.)

your chest aches.

jing yuan is at your side. you hadn't noticed him approach you so directly.

"dearest, walk with me?" jing yuan asks and offers you a hand to help you stand. yanqing is already tucking into his meal, waving goodbye.

the terrace is wide, and high above the rest of the luofu's structure. it's lush with plants. vining fruits, plump and ready to be picked curl along its railing. flowers bloom wide and bright.

(you wish you could focus on the beauty of it. how kind a place this is. how fortunate you are to have made it this far.)

"you're distracted today." jing yuan says, guiding you to a bench. his hand lays warm and firm on your shoulder. "are you sure the divination commission is giving you trouble?"

(no, the mutual past lover you both share is layers below you in the shackling prison. radiating an energy that feels astral and unholy. the kindness purged from him. yingxing really is dead, isn't he?)

"no, i promise." you give him a half-truth and a smile that you hope isn't as withered as you fear it is.

jing yuan looks pleasantly neutral. perhaps, if you were some foreign diplomatic or tourist you'd be charmed by such expression. the arbiter general of the luofu is known to be ruthless in battle with a lovely personal disposition. perhaps you'd see this moment as a reflection of that rumor.

you know, however, that in this moment jing yuan is frustrated. he will not treat you with the same firmness that he does his retainer or his subordinates, but you know the feeling is, perhaps, the same.

jing yuan doesn't like when you withhold information. he has always vocally appreciated your candor, with a sweet honesty that's disarming as it comes from a man who speaks in half-truths so frequently.

and now, you lie to him. your jaw is locked and your eyes still feel scratchy and swollen from your tears.

jing yuan begins to speak and you cut him off. grab his hand with a squeeze and pull yourself into his side.

"do you remember when you broke the first blade that yingxing made for you?" you ask.

jing yuan goes still for a moment. just a second of hesitation but you catch it. the feeling melts away as he laughs, tinged with melancholy. "i do. he was furious with me. and you had to collect new ore off-ship for a month for him to craft a replacement."

"i did." you whine with a laugh. "it was miserable. 'roid mining is awful. i was cleaning astradust from under my fingernails for weeks when i got back."

"but, you came back with the ore regardless."

"yes, and i never did again. no matter how much yingxing tried to bribe me."

"you were too busy entertaining the young lady fu to be his errand boy. i remember well."

"i probably could've made the time." you tell him. he knows this already. "i just didn't want to be away. i would've missed you both too much."

"is that why you so graciously eat with me each day?"

"i do that because i love you." you squeeze his hand. "and i enjoy your company. and want to be near you."

(you want to hold him until the last moment, however that takes shape.)

jing yuan hums. he fits you so your cheek presses against his collarbone, and his chin rests on the top of your hand. his arms wrap around your middle, squeezing and rubbing his thumbs over you. he holds you tightly to him.

"the feeling is mutual." jing yuan tells you, soft in a hushed voice only you get to hear.

you bear your weight into him. he catches you easily. holds you until yanqing calls for you both to stop being so 'gross' and to 'rate his form' on a new maneuveur he's been practicing.

jing yuan leads you once more, never fully pulling away from you. a hand on your waist, a palm over the small of your back. he puts you in his lap the moment yanqing excuses himself to flit about.

"you need to get back to the divination commission soon, don't you?" jing yuan asks, probing.

"i took the day off."

"you did, now?" jing yuan has already seen through you. this you know.

"yes." you tell him.

(you want to tell him more. you want to scream and beat the ground. perhaps you willl, later, in the privacy of your shared home.)

for now, you satiate the ache with the truth.

"i saw blade earlier. that's why i was late."

jing yuan squeezes you. it almost hurts as he curls over you.

"and?" jing yuan asks. there's a weakness in his voice that you seldom hear. "are you satisfied?"

"hardly." you tell him, turning his arms to wrap your legs around his waist. to drag him closer until your chest to chest and can hear the steady heartbeat thumping under his sternum. "i don't think i ever will be. i miss him too much. he's just gone."

"i know."

"it's awful, isn't it?"

"it simply is." jing yuan says. this is his way-- the way he has kept himself from being eaten alive by mara. you cannot be cannibalized by the thriving rot if you simply choose to let go of the awful, terrible things that would cleave another person in two. he look at the objective rationality of each situation-- this is why he is the longest-lived general. this is why he is a brilliant strategist, and a soft, grounding lover.

because, he reminds you that yingxing is dead, and any fondness you carry for the man known as blade is misplaced.

"do you not miss him?"

"of course." jing yuan kisses your temple. holds you tightly lest you plunge into the ground or float into the sky. "that does not change things though, does it?"

hope is a twisted thing, you think. in this instance, it's better to kill it. whatever mission yingxing-- no, blade has set out to complete should not concern you. there are greater crises. worse ills.

kinder realities that lay in front of you. at your feet. in your arms.

you nose into jing yuan's jaw. each shuddering breath he gives you, you savor. there's no use clinging, is there? but that doesn't mean you won't enjoy each moment you have with him. you'll be at his side until the divinations carve that that will no longer be possible. you will reminisce, however painful-- but aeons, you must refuse to let your past burden you.

so, you hold jing yuan like a lover does. cup his cheeks and kiss him until he's groaning against your lips, grinding you in his lap. he nips at your lips with a laugh as he pulls you flush to him. closer, closer, closer--

you will hold this in your cupped palms, as long as fate allows. perhaps, you both have earned that much.

[bangtanmix73]

Ok so my idea was a Paul x reader where he and reader were best friends and had crushed on each other but when he started changing he had to leave reader behind and he says things to get reader to hate him so separating would be easier (like Jake did to Bella) and reader is heartbroken and sometime later, he meets reader again and imprints but reader is still angry about being left behind (angst with a happy ending) my favorite 👍👍

Please and thank you!!

A/n: I decided to change this up a bit and had Bella and reader become friends :). 

Just Leave It to Bella

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, slight cursing, Paul saying things that’d make me punch him, Y/N with a backbone, kind of sucks, Bella dragging around Y/N, Y/N knows they don’t make smart decisions, finished this around 2am so good luck, I’m bad at confrontation, does it show?

Paul had left you alone. Completely.

At first, it started out with him refusing to see you. Then, it was not answering your calls. And, finally, not answering you altogether. He was your best friend. You may have had a crush on him, but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, so you kept quiet about it.  

You wanted to know what his problem was. You tried to talk to him at school, he’d ignore you, like he didn’t know you. If you called, his phone was on silent. If you texted, he became literate. Despite your efforts to keep your friendship, it seemed like it was over. You were hurt and angry. You attempted to get answers out of him one last time, but you wished you hadn’t.

---

You parked your car on the curb in front of your best friend's house. You stepped out as Paul came out of his house. You wasted no time storming up to him.

“What’s your problem? Why have you been ignoring me?” You practically threw the questions at him. Paul stumbled back a bit, clearing not expecting you to turn up at his house.

Quickly recovering, he fired back a “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nah, I want my answers first.” You glared up at him.  

Paul glared right back, strangely not meeting your gaze. “Fine, you want to know why I’m ignoring you? You are fucking annoying.” He spit, getting straight to the point. “The sound of your voice annoys me. The only reason I’ve ever kept you around was because I felt bad you had no other friends. You've always followed me around like a lost puppy. I wish you would just stay the fuck away from me.”

Yeah, that hurt, but that didn’t stop you from slapping. You wanted to punch him, but those stupid feelings inside you willed you not to.

“You’re an ignorant asshole, you know that?” You laughed, an empty cold laugh that sent chills up Paul’s back. “I hope you end up alone and those new friends you got leave you.” You smiled, sarcastically, before walking back to your car and drove away from your now ex best friend. You never saw that tear that ran down Paul’s face.

---

You weren’t going to lie, you were hurt. The anger had faded, but you still stood with what you said. You were sure it sounded pathetic, but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. It was months before you came out of your room and did anything and everything to distract yourself.

One normal rainy day, while you were in Forks, picking up some takeout, you ran into Bella Swan. She was in the same boat you were, her situation felt worse than yours. Her boyfriend dumped her in the middle of the woods, leaving her there, going to her childhood best friend for comfort after months of locking herself in her room, only doing exactly what Paul did, he left and made her heart break all over again. After that day, you traveled to Forks to visit Bella, becoming good friends with her. Becoming friends with her meant she dragged you along with her bullshit, but you stuck around anyway.

Today was another little ‘adventure’ with Bella. She was driving to Jacob Black’s house to confront him. She was going on about something about the Quileute being wolves? You had no idea, you just nodded along.

Bella parked her truck in the Black’s driveway. Bella got out, stomping up to the door, knocking, you rushed to catch up with her. A man in a wheelchair, who you guessed was Jacob’s dad, opened the door.

“Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He’s not in.” Bella looked like she was deciding something before pushing past him.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to see him.” She went straight for a door towards the back of the house.

“I’m sorry, so sorry.” You apologized, going around him, fast walking straight to Bella.

Right as you catch up to her, she’s going out the back door. This woman, you thought as you practically run to walk behind her.

“What did you do?” You peak around her to see four men she’s going straight for. As you got closer, you realized one of them was Paul. Fuck.

“What did you do to him?” She shoved into the tallest of them all. You pulled her back. “He didn’t want this!”

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” Paul all but snarled at her.

“He doesn’t tell me anything because he’s scared of you.” Three of the men standing in front of you started laughing. You scoffed. Still an ignorant asshole.

Paul glanced over at you, “You shouldn’t be here.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at him, “And you should mind your business.”  

You caught a glimpse of his arms beginning to shake. You decided to follow your gut feeling and move.

“Bella, back up.” Thankfully, Bella also noticed his shaking and moved back with you. The man next to Paul was attempting to calm him down, but it didn’t help.

Then it happened. He turned into a giant dog. Your childhood best friend turned into a giant gray dog.

Bella started running, which was the smarter option, but you were frozen in shock.

The dog, wolf is the better word, started stalking towards you. Although, the wolf stopped in its tracks as it stared at you like it’s seeing you for the first time. You were standing there in more confusion than shock now.

The wolf made its way towards you again. That’s when you snapped out of it and began walking backwards. Your movement caused him to stop, whining as he leaned down into a bowing position. Something compelled you to be near him. With a cautious pace, you reached a hand out as you got closer. Paul raises his big head up, making you freeze. To your surprise, he licked your hand. You took it as a sign to kneel down in front of him. Petting his head, you look behind you to see Bella and Jacob not far behind you.

“So, he’s not going to hurt us?” Bella stood halfway behind Jacob.

You shrugged, “I guess not?” You more questioned than stated.

The man from earlier, which at this point, you guessed was the leader, came around and stood next to Paul. “Phase back, Paul. You got some things to explain.”

You moved back, allowing him to stand to his full height while also standing up. You watched him trot into the forest where he came from.  

“Take them back to Emily’s place, I’ll catch up with Paul.”

“Guess the wolf’s out of the bag.”

You faced Bella, sighing, “Leave it to you to drag me into some weird shit.”

---

You were now standing next to Bella, nibbling on a muffin Emily offered you while Bella picked at hers. You were filled in a bit about what they were and their names. Embry, as he introduced himself, said Paul ‘imprinted’ on you. When you asked, they wouldn’t elaborate on what exactly an ‘imprint’ was.

Sam, the ‘alpha’, and Paul sauntered into the house. Sam went for Emily while Paul didn’t go far past the doorway. He caught your gaze; he signaled you to follow him.

“I’ll be back. Don’t leave without me please.” You mumbled to Bella before chasing after him.

He waited until you were further away from the house to say something.

“I’m sorry,” he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you, making you stop as well. “About what I said that day and for leaving you. Sam ordered us to stop talking to anyone we had before the shift.”

You scoffed, “I don’t give a damn if you turn into a giant wolf or not, that gave you no right to say to me. I won’t accept it, so don’t bother using that as an excuse.”

“I get that.” Paul was quick to change the subject. “I’m guessing they told you about us?”

You nodded, “Yeah, they also said you imprinted. What does imprinting mean?”

“Imprinting is like when you see them, they’re all that matters. It’s no longer gravity, they are the only one keeping you here. You’d do anything for them, their happiness, their safety. It doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship. It can be a brother, a best friend, a protector or something more. She’s... you.” Paul took a breath, “I’ll understand if you reject the bond.”

Despite his words, his expression was strained. While you were upset at his words that day, you were still in love with him. But you were not going to give in easily.

“Look, even after what you said, I still have feelings for you.” You admitted.

“Feelings?” Paul asked, looking puzzled.

You reluctantly answered, “I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids.” Your gaze moved along the trees, wanting to look at anything but him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Paul had his signature smirk plastered on his face. You shook your head, unable to stop your own grin, “Shut up, Paul.”

He chuckled, moving your face to look back at him. “I had feelings for you, too.”

Paul leaned in to kiss you, you pulled yourself back from him, laughing.

“Hell no. Your words still sting. As far as I’m concerned, you’re working for it if you want anything.” You stated, making him groan.

[devils-little-sista]

Let’s be honest here. Percabeth is the only canon couple that is actually going to last a life time.

Most of these types of couples in the YA genres wouldn’t last a year.

Solangelo wouldn’t even last 6 months (there are many reasons it won’t last any significant amount of time I could go on for years and years so I’ll skip that part. Theyll grow apart and never talk again and almost forget each other. Once in a blue moon Nico will think of Will and think if he was normal they might have lasted. Will occasionally thinks of Nico and wishes he could’ve understood Nico better. They are not endgame. They are not significant in any way.

Jasiper wouldn’t last a year. Piper gets some therapy and does some soul searching and realizes it was just Heras spell and comphet and she likes girls. She breaks up with Jason. Jason is confused and heartbroken cause he thought things were going so well. Piper explains and Jason totally understands and is supportive but still heartbroken because he really did fall in love with her after the war. They still love each other platonically. Always thinking about each other They may take a little time apart from each other after they breakup (a couple months) but I think they would grow back together as best friends after Jason’s heart heals. They’ll be friends well into their adult years. They might travel in different directions eventually but they still catch up every couple of years or so.

Frazel would last until their young adult years and then they realize they want to figure who they are outside of each other and maybe see other people cause they were both so young when they got together. They’re curious and want to try new things and see the world from an individuals point of view. But they stay best freinds forever through everything. Their platonic bond is one that could never be separated by space and could never be broken by time. Neither of them could picture their life without the other. Platonically codependency. They still go everywhere together. Just not as a couple. They’re still enjoying their individual lives and experiences. And then when they’re middle aged and thinking about retiring in a couple years they fall back in love with each other and get married and happily ever after.

Caleo wouldn’t last a year. And the worst part is they don’t even technically break up. Calypso just gets really busy with everything else in her life and looses interest in Leo and she feels bad about it. She’s doesn’t break up with him because she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. So she just kinda strings him along for the second 6 months of their relationship. And of course Leo knows something is up and is upset and keeps trying to spend more time with her and talk things through but Calypso just brushes him off always saying she’s too busy maybe another time and eventually just drops off the face of the earth and moves on with her life. Leo always wondered where she went and who she’s hanging out with and what kind of adventures she’s going on without him. Leo really did love her. And she was just temporarily hyper fixated on him.

In cannon Percabeth is endgame in every sense of the word. (Fannon can make that and all of the above change and be different of course but I’m talking about all of this in a cannon sense)

[aemondvelaryon]

love grows (where the mustache goes)

summary: as the squad is giving jake as much shit as possible for the new offensive hair growing on his lip, you are frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language, realization of feelings, alcohol consumption to combat dirty thoughts.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: based on this lovely gifset by unicornships

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you always kind of had a thing about Hangman.

Look, you didn't hate him, per se, but he definitely stirred some feelings in you that were less than normal. He made you feel totally feral, if you will, unrestrained and vicious. The sort of anger that made you want to scratch your skin off, vibrating and seething, screaming at the top of your lungs.

It took barely a look, less than a glance, not even a word before you were fuming just by being in his presence. He had some sort of grip on you.

So, you tended to stay as far away from him as possible. Leaving when he arrived, staying home when his attendance was announced, and sticking close to people that either didn't like him or didn't know him. It was easier that way.

Easier than thinking about why he really made you so angry.

But the worst part was, the cherry on top, was that he just loved being around you. Loved seeing how worked up he could get you, making you squirm under his gaze, and making you turn bright red from his flirting.

He had to know. There was no way he didn't. The squad must have told him how much you didn't want to be near him which is why he made it his mission always to find you in every room.

He had to know how much he rattled you.

On this particular night, he had yet to make an appearance. But wherever Rooster was Hangman usually followed, and the tall, mustached, Hawaiian-shirted pilot had already made his way over to the piano tonight and the rest of Dagger had slowly trickled in.

You didn't know why you came out tonight especially since their shore leave had just ended and all of the pilots had started making their way back to base and the surrounding area which always included the Hard Deck.

But it was the only fun place around and Penny was so nice to you and going out in a dress on a Friday night and nursing a drink for a couple of hours just to be seen and known instead of rotting in your little apartment after work was worth the possibility you might see him.

Your eyes lock on the little crowd surrounding Rooster, as charismatic as ever, singing another 80s hit. You smile despite yourself.

God, how you wished Bradshaw was the one that made your brain go fuzzy. He was sure of himself, not arrogant, teasing, not antagonistic, handsome, not drop-dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you looked at Hangman and wondered why God would make him so fucking hot and then let him open his mouth.

It honestly wasn't fair.

Eventually, you hear his voice, and your back goes ramrod straight, awareness prickling at the back of your neck, and your hands instantly sweaty.

"Bradshaw, you started without me? I'm heartbroken. After I went through all this trouble to do this just for you? Absolutely devasted."

You don't look. Because if you look it will just cement how much you want to look, and don't want to stop looking.

A choked laugh sputters, as if they're surprised and then Phoenix's voice pierces through the crowd. "You didn't. Please tell me that's not real."

"No way! Someone go pull on it! Probably glued on." Fanboy shouts and you hear the sound of someone falling out of their chair.

"You got to be kidding me. What the fuck is that! Did something die on your face?" Javy yells in disbelief and disgust.

You want to look so bad. Just their reactions almost make you turn. Did he get a bad haircut or something? You're just close enough that you can hear every word but not enough that anyone's noticed you.

"Pay up, now, I called it! I can't believe you guys doubted me. I said he would do something like this." Reuben sounds like he's smiling triumphantly.

Bob's voice is quietly astounded, "He looks like 70s Porn Star Ken."

You sit up even straighter. Oh god.

He grew a mustache.

Rooster finally acknowledges him. "Man, Hangman, I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is another level."

You can't ever look over there now. Just the visual has your skin feeling too tight.

"You like it? Took me a whole month to grow this bad boy just 'cause I wanted to see the looks on all your faces, but I gotta say, now that I'm here, totally worth it." He's grinning, he has to be, shit-eating and ear-to-ear, you can feel it, can practically see his smile in your head. You've stared at it long enough.

"That's great. When are you shaving it?" Natasha sounds disgusted and it almost makes you laugh if you weren't so fucking frozen like a deer in headlights.

"I can't believe none of you are appreciating the effort I went through to do this. Unbelievable."

"You look like someone from the cast of Boogie Nights."

"Well that's a great movie, so thank you." He sounds closer now and the hand around your glass threatens to break it. "Y'know if I can't get you guys to recognize my dedication, I know someone who will."

Oh god, oh no.

"Hangman, don't--" But before another voice can dissuade him, he's already sidling up to you at the bar. You feel the heat of him before you hear his voice.

"Hi, sweetheart, did you miss me? I know I missed you." You grab your drink and finish it off quickly, eyes not looking over at him.

"What do you want, Hangman?" You hope to come off as annoyed, not rattled to the fucking core.

"Well, I know you love Rooster so much so I thought I'd do something to make me look a little bit more like him. Maybe get you to not run out of the room every time you see me, yeah?"

Goddammit, he can't know that you do that. Unless he pays attention to you as much as you do him.

"I don't love Rooster, okay, I just don't like you." You grit your teeth and call the other bartender on duty for another drink.

"Will you at least look at it, before making your judgment, babe? You're hurting my feelings." The faux hurt in his voice almost makes you turn.

"Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then, huh?"

Your drink gets refilled and emptied just as quickly. "Woah, slow down there. Don't need you passing out on me." You have to get the hell out of here, quickly.

Your name, for starters, maybe. "Nothing. I don't even want you to talk to me."

You turn and make your way off the bar stool and it rushes over you all too fast. An empty stomach and tequila do not a wise girl make.

You nearly fall off the seat and onto your ass but a warm hand finds its way around your waist and catches you just as quick. "Easy there." You shiver and turn in his grasp trying to get away but it just makes you meet his eyes.

Shit, shit, shit.

"You good?"

No, you are very much not good. He looks--fuck.

You don't see Hangman out of uniform often. You weren't a pilot or even in the military. Just a casual acquaintance that sometimes had a few chats with his squadron. So, you'd seen him in what he usually hangs out in, his tan jumpsuit, his swimsuit, you've even seen him in his dress whites before. But this Hangman just got back and hasn't even been to the base yet so this is Jake Seresin, Texas born and bred, raised on a farm, rides horses in his spare time, mama sweeter than apple pie, probably owns a fucking cowboy hat.

So, of course, he's got a plaid shirt on. Over that is a bomber jacket, like one you've seen Mav sporting before, only it looks like something you'd wear to go ranching in the winter not fly a plane. He's got jeans on, they’re all beaten up and used, and a leather belt, and he looks like he stepped out of some country romance Hallmark movie.

The mustache is the icing on the cake.

It's not that you had a thing for mustaches. You didn't because you had no feelings for Rooster whatsoever, but you didn't think they were unattractive or creepy like most of the population seemed to.

Did you have a big crush on Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. when you were younger? Yes. But who didn't? And liking Bella's dad in Twilight didn't make it a pattern, okay! Everyone liked him.

"Uh." You finally gracefully spit out.

He smiles teasingly. "Didn't hit your head, did you?" He knows you didn't. He's playing with you. Riling you up as he always does. Because it's funny to him. Not because he likes you--wants you.

You sober up slightly and push at him. "No, get off."

Jake--God, no, when did he become Jake in your head--just smiles more but it seems softer. "I knew you'd fallen for me, but I didn't think you'd also do it literally."

You turn even redder if possible. "Shut up."

Christ, how was it you had reverted to playground comebacks at just the sight of him? Were you really so weak?

"You didn't answer my question." Was he still talking? You felt fuzzy.

"I need another drink." You can still feel his hand on your waist because despite pushing him away he hadn't let you go.

"Did I finally break you?" He laughs and shit, he knows.

"Why are you still talking to me?" You finally snap at him and his face falls a little, just slightly, that if you didn't have every inch of his face memorized you wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"Because I care what you think." It's a confession. It has to be. You don't know what else it could be.

"Why?" You squint at him. Dumbfounded is the only word that comes to mind.

"Why? What--you don't, you seriously don't know?" He still holding onto you, and his hand flexes, fingers slightly digging into your hip and you feel yourself inch towards him, always stuck in his orbit, gravity pulling you closer.

"Don't know what?" You lick your lips in anticipation and he glances, once, up, twice, down, and then looks away and swallows.

"Why the hell do you think I talk to you all the time? Come find you in a room? Grew this fucking thing on my face?" He laughs, bewildered, and shakes his head.

"Why?" You ask again, if he doesn't say it, you won't. Too goddamn scared that you're making it all up, reading too much into it. "I thought you just liked to tease me. Get a rise out of me. I thought you were making fun of me."

"C'mon, you know me, I do the same shit I do to you that I do to Rooster. That's just what I do when I like someone."

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!" He whines and grabs his arm, taken aback and pretending as if it actually hurt him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that, you ass!" You screech a little, desperately, feeling way too many emotions at once. He tends to do that to you.

He scoffs. "Have you met me? Do you really think I'm emotionally mature enough to do that?"

"That whole time you were just, what, flirting with me?" You question incredulously.

He laughs, a little bashfully. "I mean, come on, I thought it was obvious. I mean it was to everyone else."

You pale a little. "The others know?"

"Yeah, 'course they do. They're the ones that pointed it out in the first place. I didn't even realize I was doing it at first either." He scratches his neck, almost nervously.

"So why the mustache?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to get you to pay attention to me. Thought this might help." And god help you, Jake blushes, actually reddens a bit.

"How'd you know?"

"Hm, know what?" He smirks at you.

You cough. "You know, that I'd--that I'd like it."

Jake grins. "I didn't but you just told me you did."

You hit him again, a slap on the shoulder, almost playful, and you can't believe it, you're flirting with him, you're really this close to him, doing this. "Fuck off."

He smiles again but this one is different. His eyes are incredibly soft and he's looking at you and--did he always look at you like this? Were you really this blind?

"I need you to answer another question for me." His hand on your hips snakes around you and you stumble into him, putting your hands on his chest to brace yourself, and, Christ, he smells good. “Do you think I could take you out sometime?”

"Um." You're throat suddenly feels incredibly dry and you're heart feels like it about to beat right out of your chest. "I mean, if you want to."

"Yeah, baby. I want to."

[poweringthroughthis]

cabin chronicles | zhong chenle

nsfw(no explicit smut), mature content, minors DNI!

ship: zhong chenle x male reader

desc:(name)is chilling with the dreamies, but maybe he should keep in mind that his boyfriend is a jealous little bean.

**(requested)!

Chenle was ANNOYED.

To be fair, it didn't take much for the man to lose his cool. Nonetheless, he tried to keep calm for as long as he could.

But his friends should know that his boyfriend is off limits.

The dreamies are on a weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods, currently sitting around a bonfire in the backyard.

Jaemin and Jeno are looking at each other wish disgusting heart eyes, Jisung is on his phone texting god knows who and Renjun is staring into Chenle's soul with a blank expression.

Donghyuck of course, is clinging onto Mark for dear life, telling him about how today is their 50th anniversary or something. And (name), for reasons unknown to the Chinese, is sitting giggling and leaning into the subgroup of Jaemin, Jeno and Jisung.

Yeah, that's precisely why Chenle is annoyed. While he's always ecstatic to see how well his boyfriend gets along with his closest friends, sometimes they get a little too comfortable for Chenle's liking.

"You know you're boring holes into their heads, right?" Renjun asks the male in Chinese. Chenle does not dignify him with a response, except for a deadly side-eye.

Just as Chenle was about to explain his reasons, a chorus of laughter erupted again, making him turn his head towards the source for the umpteenth time tonight. (name) had just toppled over laughing, towards another man's lap. Surely, no joke could be THAT funny. Chenle was fuming now. That damned brat Jaemin.

"(name)! "Chenle called out, his boyfriend finally glancing at him after what felt like an infinity and a half.

"bǎobèi", he called him over to where he was sitting. (name) noticed Chenle's eyes. They might look heartbroken and neglected, but hiding behind them was the glint of dominance that would jump out if (name) didn't immediately settle into his rightful spot in Chenle's embrace.

As (name) made his way to the Chinese, the boys could all but gawk at him. "Did you see the way Chenle looked at (name)?" Donghyuck whispered to the group. "It was scary" Jaemin shuddered. "I think the real reason I didn't ask (name) out is because of that".

"Do you guys think I did something wrong? "Jeno asked, confused. "You're an angel Jeno. If anything, this is about your best friend's jealousy" Renjun rolled his eyes.

"Are you alright, bǎobèi?" Chenle asked as (name) snuggled closer to his chest. (name) looked up at him with big doe eyes, "of course, Lele. Are you okay, you look tense?".

"I'm okay as long as you're here".

Chenle pressed a chaste kiss to the younger's lips, leaving him blushing, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What was that all about, though? "

Mark questioned, the dreamies trying to make sense of the scene they just witnessed.

"I'm still trying to figure that out".

Jaemin replies.

"If you really must know, I'm tired of sharing him"

Chenle said, making everyone raise a brow, the younger being too embarrassed to even speak.

"What do you mean?"

"I MEAN, that you are all stealing my baby away from me! You're always touching him and talking to him and I just want to spend some time with him"

"But we're his friends, Lele!"

Jisung says, Chenle huffing.

"You can be a little possessive, you know" Haechan remarks.

"Says the boy who was literally clinging onto his boyfriend 10 minutes ago"

"Oh, shut up, I'm a cuddly person. It's not my fault if you can't handle it".

"So, you admit that you can't handle (name)?"

"Yes, I can! What kind of question is that? I can totally handle him."

"Well, you sure seem jealous of us, Lele."

"I'm not jealous. I can definitely handle my own boyfriend."

"Okay, then."

"Whatever".

With that, Chenle gets up and brings (name) inside with him, going upstairs to the room the couple was staying in.

"He so is jealous!"

"Definitely."

The dreamies say, shaking their heads, the only thing on their minds being: "How is Chenle murderous towards us yet always sickly sweet towards (name)?"

Now inside, Chenle had (name) pinned to the wall.

"You know I only belong to you, right, Lele?"

"I know, baby. You're my precious little treasure."

Chenle presses a bruising kiss to (name)'s lips.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me. I'll never let anyone hurt you."

"I know."

Chenle lifts the boy, (name) wrapping his legs around the other's waist, the Chinese carrying him towards the bed, setting him down on the edge and climbing on top.

Chenle was getting carried away, his mind clouded with possessiveness and jealousy, his kisses getting rougher by the minute, (name) doing nothing but accepting all the attention.

"Lele… wait… I can't breathe…"

"I'm sorry baby, you're just so perfect and I want to have you all to myself."

Chenle continues to kiss down (name)'s neck, sucking and biting harshly, the younger whining at the pain.

"Lele, no marks!"

"Let them know who you belong to", he replies with a blank stare.

"Lele!"

Chenle pulls back to stare at the love of his life, his hair ruffled, lips swollen and red and a few hickeys already forming on his neck.

"Why don't you just marry me, bǎobèi?"

(name) blushed, Chenle chuckling at his reaction.

"I love you so much!"

Chenle kisses his lips softly, holding his face gently and stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"I love you more, Lele."

Chenle moves them to the center of the bed, (name) laying under him as the Chinese hovers above him with a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

"Now, let me remind you who you belong to."

And he dives in.

Outside the cabin, the dreamies are groaning, Renjun covering his ears to shut out the moans coming from above them.

"Look at what you did! Now we have to sit here and listen to Chenle doing it with his boyfriend" he cried.

"Hey, you guys are the ones who teased him!"

Donghyuck said.

"Whatever, I'm just happy that I'm not Chenle's boyfriend"

Jeno says.

"And I'm happy that I'm not his boyfriend's best friend"

Mark replies, the dreamies looking over at Jaemin, the male looking at the ground in shame.

"This is so awkward"

Jaemin mumbles, the others snickering, as they went back to their conversations, trying to ignore the noises coming from the upstairs bedroom.

[agi-ppangx]

💭bringing back the childhood

kim seungmin x gn!reader

an: happy birthday @inniescandy-01 ❤️ i hope you're having an amazing day<3

“can i come to your place?” seungmin texted you in the late evening. it was getting dark, the sun lazily disappearing below the horizon, allowing the moon to take over. you send a text back, saying that it’s fine and you’ll be waiting for him. in the meantime you checked your look in the mirror, fixing your hair and putting on some mascara and lip balm. you were nervous - why? after all seungmin and you were just friends, you’d known each other your whole lives, so there was no point in you being anxious. then why did it feel different this time?

the knock on your door brought you back to reality. you opened them with a bit too much force and there he was, holding two boxes in his hands. “hi,” he simply said, letting himself into your apartment. he placed the boxes down on the table and turned to face you. “happy birthday, yn. you’re getting old, you know that?” you giggled at his words. “yeah, thanks for reminding me,” you responded with a smile on your face. “what’s in those boxes?” you asked then, smirking, and seungmin took one of them and opened it. “here, it’s a cake. and the other one is for later, so don’t even try to open it now,” he threatened, though you could see he was really holding himself back from grinning. you saluted jokingly and took the cake to cut it into slices.

there was one memory of your birthday that was especially precious to you. you were turning eight then and you invited seungmin to spend some time with you. his mum baked you your favourite cake and he got you a present. “it’s not much,” he said. “but i think you’ll like him.” you opened the box he handed you and you took a plush puppy out of it. you thought to yourself that it looked kind of like a golden retriever. “it reminds me of you. do you like it?” he then asked, not looking at you and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt instead. “yeah, he’s cute. i’ll call him minnie.”

“how are you feeling?” seungmin asked you a bit later, when you were sitting on your balcony and eating the cake. “i’m okay. just kind of sad.” he raised his eyebrows. “why?” “because i miss our childhood,” you sighed loudly. “i wish we were eight again, life was easier then.” seungmin chuckled at your words and stood up abruptly, going into your living room. you observed him intently as he came back with the other box and sat in front of you. “open it.” you took it and tore the wrapping paper, opening the box. you gasped when you noticed what was inside. “minnie! where did you find him? i thought i lost him forever,” you exclaimed, feeling your eyes fill with tears. you lost minnie when you were fifteen and you were heartbroken, thinking he was gone for good. you covered your face, hoping that seungmin didn’t notice your state. he placed his hand on your knee and spoke softly. “my mum found it in our basement a few weeks ago. i tried to make him look better, but minnie’s kinda old.” you dropped your hands, looking him in the eyes. you grinned so widely, overwhelmed with happiness. “i can’t believe you did this for me, thank you.” “i know i seem cold, but i care about you, you know?” in the vague moonlight you didn’t notice that his cheeks became bright red at the confession. you hesitated for a moment, but after a short while you thought fuck it and leaned forward to place a kiss on seungmin’s lips. how surprised you were when he didn’t back off and instead deepened the kiss, bringing you closer to him and suddenly you didn’t feel sad anymore.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-skz @l3visbby

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist🧡

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just a boy ❤️

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love. Low self esteem, Reader finds happiness elsewhere.

Don't reuse, copy or repost my work. ♥️

Ex Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x reader.

Lyrics are If I were a boy by Beyonce ✨

❤️✨

At first the relationship between you and Eddie was good, amazing sex, good conversation.

It was the start of something special... Or so you thought.

It turns out you were more into the relationship then Eddie was.

"It's just a causal thing sweetheart, it doesn't mean anything right?" he asked you one night after you just had sex.

The words did throw you off guard and you found yourself agreeing. You were falling for him and thought stupidly that you could change his mind.

You thought that he could fall for you too were the perfect, attentive girlfriend fuck buddy to him.

It really did seem that Eddie wanted more. He was more affectionate, even talking about going on dates.

You thought that he would ask you to be his girlfriend, for real. It certainly seemed that way. You even told him you were falling for him.

Then Chrissy came into the picture and suddenly everything changed. It was all about Chrissy and you were left in the dust.

Every fantasy you had about Eddie being crazy about you vanished and you were left to face the harsh truth.

He didn't love you. He never would.

"I think I want to give things a shot with Chrissy sweetheart. This has been fun but it was only sex right?"

Fuck you felt so stupid for falling for him, for thinking what you had was anything more than just sex.

Truthfully you were heartbroken seeing Eddie so loved up and hid your feelings as best as you could.

Steve saw through your pain and had been your rock. He was sweet, attentive and helped you through your lowest moments.

There were days when you felt overwhelmed by bottling up so many of your feelings and felt shitty about yourself.

Everytime that happened Steve was beside you, dragging you out of bed to face the day or just being there for you when you needed a good cry.

In turn you helped Steve in finally getting over Nancy. It really wasn't a suprise to anyone when you and Steve grew closer and closer. Eventually falling in love.

In fact it was pretty obvious, especially to Dustin, Robin and Nancy.

However it wasn't obvious to Eddie who had shown up at your door tonight. You were already grumpy at being pulled away from snuggling with Steve and your mood soured even more when you saw him.

It's a little too late for you to come back, say it's just a mistake. Think I'd forgive you like that.

He looks suprised at the scowl on your face but immediately switches to the cute puppy dog look that you had fallen for so often.

Not this time.

"Hey, can I come in? Chrissy and I split up and I thought maybe we could pick up where things left off. I made a mistake being with her" he says it so casually that you gape at him.

Anger fills you. How dare he come back now after months and expect you to be waiting like some fucking doormat?

If you thought I would wait for you. You thought wrong.

He broke your heart and yet here he was like nothing of the sort had happened. Fuming you push him back lightly as he attempts to come inside.

But you're just a boy. You don't understand. Yeah, you don't understand, oh.

"No, you can't just swan back here and think that I would be waiting for you. I've moved on Eddie" he looks liked you've slapped him, his lips parting in shock.

"What? With who?" he takes in your appearance and his expression darkens as you hug Steve's shirt closer to your body.

"Steve? You're with Steve"

How it feels to love a girl. Someday you wish you were a better man.

His annoyance pisses you off even more.

"Yes Steve. He's sweet, kind, romantic and he loves me. I love him. He treats me like a princess. Not someone who was just convenient"

Eddie swallows and runs his hand through his hair. He opens his mouth to say something then thinks better of it.

"I know I messed you around. I'm sorry okay?" you smile sadly.

You don't listen to her. You don't care how it hurts.

"No you aren't. You knew I was falling for you Eddie. I told you that but instead of letting me down gently you flirt like crazy with Chrissy, then leave me in the dust to go and be with her. You don't care how much you hurt me"

Eddie steps back as you finally get all your feelings out. He looks stunned and you feel a little better, actually it feels pretty cathartic to get it all out.

"Now you have the gall to come here and want to start things up again. At least until you find the next girl for you. Let's face it, I was good enough to fuck but not good enough to be your girlfriend"

He immediately tries to deny this but you did yourself past caring. Yeah it hurt like hell before but now that you were in a better place mentally and with a man who truly loved you, it didn't hurt now.

It was more like a fading ache.

Until you lose the one you wanted. 'Cause you've taken her for granted.

"This was a mistake coming here" Eddie snaps. Yes it was and you're just about to tell him to go when Steve comes out of your room.

He rub his eyes sleepily and shivers at the cold coming in from your open door.

"Honey, it's freezing" he wraps the blanket he's carrying around you and frowns when he sees Eddie.

"Dude. Why are you here at this time? It's like two am" Steve's eyes widen in realisation and his eyes narrow a fraction, jaw tensing.

And everything you had got destroyed,

"Right. I get it. Clear off Munson, she's mine and I don't fucking share. I also know how amazing she is and I won't be as dumb as you to mess that up"

The protectiveness radiating of Steve is enough to cause Eddie to back away from the door.

"Just go. There's nothing here for you Eddie" you tell him and he nods tightly and walks away.

"You know you weren't fucking good enough anyway" he yells back at you. Steve growls low in his throat but you calm him down.

But you're just a boy.

"It's okay, just let him go. Let's go back to bed babe" he nods but still looks furious.

"Don't listen to him sweetheart. You're incredible. His loss that he never realised what he had"

Steve gently kisses your forehead and you head back to bed, safe in the arms of a man who truly loves you and you him.

❤️

[hypnoneghoul]

i was thinking about alpha a few days ago so heres some words that arent really like a fic but not just a ramble either. a bit angsty character study kinda thing with hc lore drop ig???

Alpha is a bad person.

If such words were said to most of the Abbey, they would be agreed with. Only one person would frown and argue.

Why?

Alpha does not know.

“I don’t even remember how it started,” he says, breathing the words into his mate’s shoulder. It is true, he does not remember. Long years had he been on Earth and for more than half of those years he had never once acted rude, unjust or…evil. Until.

“Don’t worry about it, wildfire,” Omega mutters. He wishes it was simple enough to get fixed by his words alone. “It’s just humans, you know how they are. Nothing’s as quick to judge as them.”

“I know.” He does not, in fact, know. He could never understand it, the way he had done nothing and yet was so quickly painted in all the dark colors. “But…why me?”

Omega does not answer.

But it is true now.

What Alpha is, is quiet, reserved, stoic. He does not initiate contact with strangers unless necessary. He keeps to himself and his mate, he always has. He has always been like that, but humans took his reservedness as hostility towards their kind.

It was not true...then.

All the rumors that kept spreading throughout the Abbey over the years—that Alpha is a truly evil demon, that he hurts people both mentally and physically, that he murders humans for enjoyment and eats them as dessert, that he is the embodiment of anger and just evil—got to the fire ghoul. Contrary to a popular belief, he is (or rather used to be) a soft soul, easily hurt.

It kept hurting and breaking him. Omega kept putting him back together—always, never faltering, never giving up—until all the millions of pieces of his mate were just too fragile to hold together anymore. No matter how tightly Omega held him.

One day, all the kindness for the world and people in it that Alpha still had in him vanished in a blink of an eye. All that remained intact was that little part of his heart that was his mate’s. It would always belong to him.

The rumors became reality.

He had never before hurt anyone or destroyed anything on purpose. It was the evening of sending his and Omega’s pack back to the Pit. Per their own request, but the fire ghoul was heartbroken anyway.

It was his grief, not anger, that had set the Abbey on fire.

That fire is, to this day, one of the biggest that the Ministry had seen over the centuries. And it had seen a lot.

There weren’t many casualties, barely a handful, but there’s nothing Alpha hates himself more for than that fire. He had killed innocent people. He was the monster they have always seen him as.

The news that it was Alpha’s doing spread nearly as quickly as the fire itself. Due to the magic casted upon the Abbey, the damage was brief and that’s why life in the Ministry had returned to normal surprisingly fast.

Since then the fire ghoul felt deserving of all the humans’ cruel words and they had only grown in intensity. Anyone who still had not been sure, who had doubted the rumors, considered the fire to be the confirmation.

Alpha kept breaking and breaking and falling further and further down into the well of self-hatred built by humans who, many years ago, were too quick to judge.

Now he really is all the things people always mistaken him for, their words finally having become true. He is the big, bad ghoul that everyone sees him as. Except for when he is with Omega, but the quintessence ghoul, too, feels like Alpha is slipping from his hands.

So…

Is Alpha a bad person?

[mun-2996]

In every other dimension

A teensy weensy bit of stalking here, sad feelings, Miguel O'Hara and fem!reader

Was no braining it the whole time I wrote this tbh

It wasn't fair.

None of it was.

As it seemed, in every universe, you were bound to fall for him.

In each universe with him, there was a you.

Miguel spent hours watching you meet up with him, but it was always in a different universe.

Never his.

You were so utterly perfect. Beautiful, kind, funny. Everything you did, Miguel absolutely adored.

Yet, in some other universes. His variants had the audacity to reject.

To turn you down, to break your heart.

Miguel would be different, he promised himself that.

He promised himself that he'd never willingly put a frown on your face.

The worst part? His version of you had never interacted with him.

So what does he do instead? He watches.

He watched you, and it seems that even in his own universe, all you do is get heartbroken.

He watched as your boyfriend- now your ex, walked out on you.

He watched as you cried, wishing he could rush into your apartment and comfort you.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't take the risk of disrupting a canon.

What if in this universe, you two were never supposed to meet? What if in this universe, you were meant for someone else? What if he was meant for someone else?

So he watched.

He watched you go out on dates. Some good, some bad.

He never forgave himself for just watching as you cried when a date ditched you.

It wasn't fair.

So many pathetic men had been given the opportunity to be yours. To be loved by you.

And all they did was break your heart to bits and pieces.

Miguel got worried when you stopped going out on dates.

Had you given up? Has love failed you one too many times?

----------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't until that day at a coffee shop.

Miguel had actually spent so many days pent up in his lab that Lyla had to put the lab on full lockdown to prevent him from working his ass off.

So for the first time, he walked the streets of Nueva York, not as Spider-Man, but as Miguel O’Hara.

He walked into a cafe, instantly regretting it because it was completely crowded. He couldn't even get out because the moment he got in, more people came into the shop, leaving him no room to make an escape.

Another thing to add to his misfortune, tables had to be shared due to the absurd crowd.

Once he finally got his coffee, which took about 10? 20? Minutes? I’ve honestly lost count. He sat down at the closest table. The moment he sat down he started gulping down his coffee, not even bothering to look up at the person sat in front of him. Not until he heard a familiar voice.

“That's a pretty cool watch you've got there.” Your voice rang in his ears and his head jerked up to see your face, those gorgeous eyes, those plump lips, that adorable nose, right in front of his eyes. It took a while for him to process what you said. Shock. He forgot to take his watch off. “Yeah, made it myself.” He replied, his voice came out a little breathlessly, probably because he was gulping down piping hot coffee, and also the fact that he was too busy staring at you to fix his voice. “You’ve sure got a talent for drinking hot drinks.” you chuckled, seeing the half empty cup with steam still flying out. Miguel blinked for a bit before noticing how hot the drink was and setting the cup down, still amazed by how you were literally in front of his eyes. “Didn't notice.” he mumbled. You let out another chuckle. “Sorry, didn't catch your name. You are?” Your voice was ever so sweet to him, he could've sworn he forgot his name the moment you asked. “Miguel. Miguel O’hara. And you?” You gave him your name, which quickly led to a whole introduction. And to Miguel’s luck, a number exchange.

The two of you were happily chatting until you got a buzz from your phone. You picked it up and checked your screen, letting out a groan. “Sorry, work calls.” You let out a sigh as you got up from your seat. “Can I see you again sometime?” Miguel could've sworn there was confetti bursting from his heart. He quickly cleared his throat “I’ll call you later and we could talk about it I suppose.” He got up from his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. You flashed him that gorgeous smile of yours. “Y-you’re really fun to talk to, y’know?” with that, you gave him a nod and left the store. And just like that, Miguel had become a happier man.

----------------------------------------------------------

Was thinking of this song while I was writing