#that time he pretended his schedule was completely full because he didn't want to talk to Talia and then when she called bim out on it

[allovesthings]

One of my favorite Grayson dynamics is when he is with someone he doesn't like/finds annoying because he is so petty and I just appreciate that side of him.

[thatoneidiotdts]

Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 12 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.2 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (11)

Next part (13) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Honeymoon

Keanu silently enters the bedroom, his eyes immediately finding her, on the balcony. With her hands on the glass railing, her attention is on the beach outside. He struggled a lot to rent this house, but he wanted the best for her. It's beautiful, slightly isolated for privacy, and if they walk out the back door, they'll be with their feet on the sand.

He doesn't want to think much about what comes after this trip. He only prays that what's left of these two weeks will go by slowly, so he'll have more time with her before... Before whatever comes next. (Y/N) doesn't know the reason for all his schedules, the reason behind all these places he's taking her. She lived her childhood here, in a neighborhood half an hour from this house. Keanu had to ask Laura for help, to know the places to go. Laura doesn't think he should tell her yet, but he can't do this anymore. He can't do this to her.

The wind messes with her hair, and he's happy the weather helped. The sky is clear, in an amazing shade of blue with only a few clouds that make it look like a painting. Taking his phone from his pocket, he snaps a picture of her, and the clicking noise gives away his presence, and (Y/N) turns around, a smile on her lips.

“What are you doing?” She asks, making her way back inside the bedroom, walking over until she's standing before him, head raised to look into his eyes.

“You're so beautiful, I had to take a picture.” A picture he'll keep, to mend his broken heart when this is over.

“Then why do you look so sad?” The question makes him realize he's been letting it show. And that's not supposed to happen.

“I'm not. I'm so happy to be here with you that I can't even put it in words.” It makes her smile grow brighter, and Keanu feels like he could live the rest of his days just looking at her.

“So am I.” She grabs his sides, hands full of the fabric of his shirt. (Y/N) always does that, like she's asking for his attention. As if she didn't have all of it. But he finds it cute, and it never fails to warm up his heart. “Where are we going today?”

“We're staying home. The doctors said to take things slow, remember?” With a hand, he cups her cheek, thumb rubbing her soft skin.

“But it's only been three days and I'm completely fine.”

“I know. But will it be so bad to stay in today? With me?” The words make her giggle, as she tiptoes, beautiful, pink lips chasing his.

“It would be amazing, as are all my days with you.” Bending down, he kisses her, the taste of her lips almost too much for him to deal with. Overwhelming, inebriating. And Keanu is addicted. If only she was his. Truly, completely his, to love and cherish, for the rest of his life...

You move to the bed with Keanu, and you quickly settle down. But you're not in the mood to just lie there, and since he doesn't want to take you out, it's the perfect day to do something fun in the house. “I have an idea.” Smirking, you climb on him, straddling his hips with each arm on the sides of his head. This is always a funny position since Keanu is a lot taller than you. Staring him from above is a nice change.

“Let's hear it.”

“There's a pool here so... We should go for a swim.” Keanu raises his eyebrows, a little surprised since you can't swim at all. But that's not where the whole idea ends. “Naked.”

“What?” The funny expression on his face makes you giggle. “Say that again.”

“Let's swim naked.” Sitting up straight, you shrug your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you know drones exist right? The chances are small but never zero.” Keanu lightly holds your hips. “But we can go to the pool in normal swimsuits and take a bath in the tub after. And then get naked.”

“Uhm...” Looking away, you fake a thoughtful face. “The whole point is to get naked so why don't we just skip the pool and hit the tub?” Without waiting for an answer, you get off the bed, giving him a look before heading to the bathroom. You can't hold back the smile when you hear him following you.

•••

With you back resting against Keanu's chest, you relax in the warm water, even though the temperature is lowering. You have both your hands on your belly as Keanu places soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. You're still catching your breath, but you'll never tell him you get more tired with time. It's the baby, the doctors said, it's normal to feel a bit more tired than normal as time passes.

“So we have decided on the name.” He says, and you nod. “Sophie or Liam.”

“Sophie or Liam Reeves.” You agree, testing how the names sound. “I can't wait to find out which name we'll be using.”

“Me neither.”

Smiling, you feel a funny sensation. Like a pressure, a movement. Quickly, you place your hand on the right side of your belly, bellow the bellybutton, suddenly worried, and just about to tell Keanu something's wrong when you feel it. A soft, little kick under your hand. “Oh my God.” You mumble, barely able to hear yourself.

“What? What's wrong?”

Without saying anything, you take his hand, placing it on the right spot, hoping, waiting the baby will do it again, apprehension forcing both of you into silence. Then, you feel it, and you turn your head a little to look into his eyes. Keanu looks... Amazed. Blissful.

“Our baby is kicking, Ke.” You whisper, unable to hold back the smile.

“I love you.” He says, eyes set in yours, right before repeating the sentence to your swollen stomach. “And I love you too.”

Turning back around, you lie against him once more, hands above his. “I can't believe it. This amount of happiness is... Unbelievable.”

“You're beautiful, do you know that?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, you chuckle, cheeks heating up. “Why that now?”

“I just need you to know.”

Taking a deep breath, you move, once again straddling his hip, making small ripples on the water. “And you are so unbelievably handsome sometimes I wonder if you're real.” Running a hand through his jaw, you feel his stubble under your fingertips. “I love your beard. And your hair.” As you speak, you distribute kisses through his face. “Your face, your body, your voice. The kindness, gentleness, and honesty.” Keanu suddenly moves underneath you, as if bit by something. “What?”

“Nothing, beautiful. It's nothing.” Smiling, he kisses your lips. “Wanna take a walk on the beach?”

“Mhmm.” You agree, kissing him once again before standing up and leaving the tub, grabbing a towel. You're not anxious this time, eager to cover up. You feel comfortable around Keanu, and even if sometimes you still feel self-conscious, he's always there to reassure you he finds you beautiful. So it's not a problem anymore, to let him see your body. “I'll wear that dress you bought me.” You say, letting your hair down from the loose bun as you dry yourself.

“I'm sure you'll look gorgeous.”

“Maybe.” You mutter, winking at him before leaving the bathroom.

Half an hour later you're seating shotgun as Keanu drives through a cute street with colorful houses. You snap some pictures of the place, wondering why he took this route. Probably he thought you'd like the neighborhood, and he was right. “It's beautiful here.” You tell him, stealing a glance.

“It is.” After the short answer, he goes silent again for some seconds. “Let's stop here.”

“Alright.” He parks the car and you jump out, immediately kicking your shoes off and starting to walk on the sand.

“Do you want an ice cream?” Keanu asks, gesturing at a small store nearby.

“Yup.” Nodding, you smile as he tells you he'll be right back.

Moving closer to the water, a hand holding your sandals and the other keeping the hair off your face, you let the ripples reach your feet. The water is a bit cold, but you enjoy it.

“(Y/N)?” An unfamiliar voice calls, and you immediately turn at the source of the sound. A short, blond-haired guy is smiling at you, a hand protecting his eyes from the sun. “(Y/N), I... I heard about you but I didn't believe it.”

“Uhm... Sorry. Do I know you?”

The question lights up his face with recognition. “Oh, yeah. For a moment I forgot about the accident. I'm Michael. We were friends when we were younger. We went to Elementary school together.”

Your existence is not a mystery anymore. The news channel already showed your face more than once, and some magazines and online blogs talk about you every once in a while. Keanu Reeves' secret wife, with a child on the way. So it's not really a secret anymore. “I have a childhood friend in New York. Do you happen to know her name?” You decide to check since Laura has been your friend since kinder garden.

“Laura Marshal. I remember her.” The man rubs his neck, squinting his eyes. “We dated for like a month.”

“So you're that Michael.” Smiling, you offer your hand and he happily shakes it. “Sorry for not remembering.”

“No, don't even say that. What happened to you sucks. I mean, the accident.” He speaks fast, and you giggle.

“No need to sugar coat it. You can talk openly about the memory loss, I'm alright with it.”

“Yeah. But after I heard about the accident, which was horrible, let's make this clear, I couldn't believe what the news channels were saying about you and Keanu freaking Reeves.” Michael says his name in a lower voice, stepping closer as if telling a secret.

“Well, nobody knew about the marriage because we wanted to keep it private for as long as we could.” That's always the question that follows. People still find it insane how you just came out of nowhere, being Keanu's wife. “But with everything that happened, accident, memory, the baby, it would be quite difficult to keep it in the shadows.”

He makes a funny face, furrowing his eyebrows. “But that's not it, Uhm... Weren't you with Daniel?”

The name doesn't sound too strange, and after some seconds, you remember Lucia saying something about a Daniel... Yeah, she asked if you were considering the name for the baby and if it meant anything to you. “I don't know anything about a Daniel. Was he my friend too?”

“(Y/N), you and Daniel were–” Michael stops talking suddenly, eyes on something behind you. At someone.

Chuckling, you know who he's staring at. Turning around, you smile at Keanu. “Hey, babe. Come meet my friend, Michael.”

“Holy shit.” The guy mutters under his breath.

“I think he might need a selfie.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take the ice cream from his hands and start licking it.

“Hi. It's nice to meet you.” Your husband politely says, shaking Michael's hand. “You want a picture?”

“Please. I love Matrix. It's like my favorite movie. I'm such a big fan.”

Rolling your eyes, you take Michael's phone and snaps a couple of pictures of him and Keanu. The afternoon passes by with you three chatting. Michael is still quite impressed to be seeing Keanu face to face, and it makes you giggle every once in a while. When the night starts to fall, you say goodbye and head back to the house.

The trip does have this honeymoon style. It's just you and Keanu most of the time, even though Michael introduces you to two more people, Amanda and Kyle, who also claim to know you. Your husband eventually said that you grew up in this town, and he wanted you to see it. It does make you a little sad that you don't remember any of it, but Keanu soon makes you forget these thoughts. He's always so kind and loving, you didn't think it was possible to fall further in love with him, but that's exactly what happens.

Somehow you managed to convince your husband on staying one more week. It took some begging and creativity, and of course, some video calls with your doctors, but it worked in the end.

But the day comes when you're packing your things, just about to head off to the airport. You just finished with your baggage and answered a call from Michael, who wanted to say goodbye and ask you to bring Laura next time. You happily agree before hanging up, and that's when you remember the person he mentioned. The same Lucia made a big deal of. Waiting for Keanu to finish his shower, you scroll through your phone, eyes moving to the bathroom door when it opens.

“Hey, Ke.” You mutter, getting up to your feet. “Do you know someone named Daniel?” At the mention of the name, Keanu gets tense. You notice he tries to hide it, but it's crystal clear to you. It just makes everything stranger. “Michael mentioned a Daniel and so did Lucia.”

“Yeah, I know...” He mutters, avoiding your gaze.

“Ke, you're scaring me. Who the hell is this Daniel?”

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[teddy-bear-surprise]

hi!! how are you? i seen your post about wanting to write headcannons or blurbs and i didn't know if you wanted them to be birthday related but osbddkndjdd staying up until exactly 12 am with peter and once it hits, the reader gives him a bunch of kisses & let's him now how happy she is to be with him!!!

This story is also available on AO3 and Wattpad!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I'm doing great today and I hope you are too <3

MASTERLIST

Title: Midnight Birthday

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: None (they joke around about poop and farts, which makes me sound immature, but I promise it’s funny and not like serious)

Context needed: Y/N

I deviated slightly from the prompt on accident, but I hope you enjoy it :)

Your phone rang loudly for the third time, prompting you to finally pick up. Normally, you would ignore everyone’s phone calls, but you realized that Peter was the one calling you. You had set a special ringtone for him, just so this wouldn’t happen, yet he still had to call multiple times just to get your attention.

“Hey, Peter! Sorry I didn’t pick up before… You know how it is, right?”

Peter chuckled on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I know. We should really come up with a better system for you. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if there was an emergency and they had to call you. I know you can’t see me right now, but just the thought gave me goosebumps.”

You heard him shudder, “I’m sure you’re very goosebumpy, Spider-Kid.”

“Hey!” He asserted jokingly, “You know that I prefer ‘Spider-Man’, you know that. And don’t be mean to me! I’m over here calling to invite you out to dinner and this is what I get? I am beyond hurt. I will never recover.” Peter emphasized each word as sarcastically as he possibly could.

“Oh, get over yourself drama queen. Spider-Boy, Spider-Kid, Spider-Man, it’s all the same thiiinnggggg. Just take the compliment, hun. In thirty years– when you’re all old, wrinkly, and a Spider-Senior –you’ll be missing the days when people called you Spider-Kid. Now, what were you saying about dinner?”

“I said I wanted to invite you out to dinner! Were you not listening?”

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see your face right now. “I got that part, genius. I meant like what kind of dinner… Y’know, Where? When? The details, Pete, the details.”

“Oohhhh, that would make sense.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I was thinking that we could go to that restaurant you love, you know the one you were talking about the other day… Ummmm I think it was called Sveleka? Right? So we could go there around 7…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as he tried to remember the details of his plan and you cut in. “It’s Veselka, but that would be great, Pete. I’ll see you there at 7, love you.”

You hung up the phone before Peter even got a chance to reply. Your phone skills were rudimentary, to say the least, and it always got you into trouble. Luckily, Peter understood your bizarre hatred of phones and phone calls, allowing you to talk to him without worrying too much.

You knew that his birthday was tomorrow and you had developed a plan of your own. It was supposed to be a surprise, and the last thing you were expecting was for him to ask you out to dinner the night before his own birthday. In a way, it made you appreciate him even more, knowing that he loved you enough to randomly call you and ask you out to dinner. But now, thanks to his unexpected decision, you only had two hours to rearrange everything before meeting up with him for dinner. You stared at the giant teddy bear sitting on your bed and sighed. Even though your plan was technically easier to carry out now, you felt a twinge of annoyance about having to modify your schedule.

Originally, you wanted to sneak into Peter’s apartment, along with May’s help, and surprise him with a giant teddy bear that said “I love you” when you hugged it. Ideally, you would get there right at midnight, as the night turned from August 9th to 10th, and show him that you cared. That you cared about his birthday, his happiness, and his wellbeing.

You shook away the thought and positioned the teddy bear so that it looked like it wanted to give you a hug. In between its warm, fluffy arms, you placed a small box. This box was technically Peter’s real present. It contained a small, circular locket with one half of a glass spider and a key. In the very same box, you included a long handwritten note telling Peter how much you loved him and how proud you were of him. Once you rearranged the box and bear to your liking, you began to get ready.

The closet of your apartment was minuscule, as was the whole place, and the limited space had led you to develop a very limited wardrobe. Your outfits only consisting of basic black pieces, one dark green jacket, and three pairs of shoes. Peter always joked that he loved how your closet all looked the same, claiming that it made it easier to find you if you ever got lost in a crowd. You both knew that was far from true since everyone in Manhattan loves wearing black, but you appreciated that he was so kind about your unconventional fashion decision.

You grabbed a simple, long black skirt and a silky black tank top, changing out of your pajamas. It might have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but pajamas stayed on until you left the house. That was just the rule. While you fixed your hair and makeup, you began to worry that Peter would figure out your plan. It was a slightly irrational thought, especially since he was socially inept and on multiple occasions forgot when his birthday was. Still, the thought plagued your mind until the moment you were ready to leave.

As you walked to Grand Central station, you texted Aunt May, letting her know that the plan had changed. May had been the biggest supporter of you and Peter’s relationship from the start. Honestly, she was the only one you could trust because she was the only one who could keep both your and Peter’s identities a secret. You hopped onto the Six heading downtown, hoping that she would reply before your service completely cut out.

You: Hi, May. Peter invited me out for dinner at the last minute so we might have to rearrange a bit.

May: This is why I told you to make plans with him ahead of time, so we wouldn’t run into any bumps like this.

You: I know, sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to do this.

May: I was kind of expecting it… I made a bet with myself that he would do this and it looks like I won!

You: You bet on us?? Is this like a reoccurring thing???

May: Definitely not. That would be immature. I’d never do that.

You shook your head at your phone, laughing at how obvious it was that May bet on your and Peter’s relationship. To you, May was like a second mother, or just a really cool aunt. She seemed to understand how to be just serious enough, but not stiff. Not to mention that she was ten times nicer and more supportive of you than your actual mom.

You: I’m gonna pretend that the last part of the conversation never happened. But what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to meet Peter for dinner around 7 at Veselka so I won’t be able to go back to my apartment and then to Peter’s in time. I just left the bear at my apartment and I’m thinking of asking Peter to go home with me after we eat, what do you think?

May: Sounds like a solid plan, kiddo. Good luck, and please don’t let Peter eat too many of those sauerkraut pierogies this time, he was gassy for two days. It wasn’t fun.

You: Thanks for the gross heads-up, May. Byeeee

You got off at Astor Place and walked in silence towards the restaurant. You were looking at the ground, head hanging low, when Peter called out to you from across the street.

“Y/N, hi!”

You looked up at him and smiled at the goofy boy waving at you. “Hi, Peter!”

Jogging across the street, you made eye contact with him. He held out a hand towards you, helping you onto the sidewalk, and embraced you. Peter kissed the top of your head softly and gave you one last squeeze before letting go.

“So, I guess we’re both early then. I gotta say that I’m shocked, Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to get here before me.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Peter winked at you.

---

The two of you merrily ate your dinner, with Peter threatening to instigate a food fight more than once. You talked about anything and everything, by the time you two were ready to pay the bill, it was almost 11 and you were stuffed.

Peter rubbed his hand on his stomach, poking at it, “I think it would be physically impossible for me to eat any more. Like I would just spchwoooo,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands, “explode.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t order any of those sauerkraut pierogies, May said they made you all gassy last time. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if you ate those and the stuffed cabbage.”

“What?! May said that? I never get gassy. Ever.” Peter lowered his voice, “I’m literally superhuman, it takes more than some sauerkraut and cabbage to mess with this iron stomach.”

“That’s not even close to being true. You had explosive diarrhea after that burrito two weeks ago, and don’t blame the food, you were the only one out of the three of us who got sick. Did you forget that May and I had to take you to the hospital? Because I don’t think that counts as an ‘iron stomach’.”

The two of you argued about stomachs, diarrhea, and food the rest of the way to your apartment, stopping every few minutes to point out airplanes flying overhead. You insisted on walking home so you could arrive almost exactly at midnight. Plus having Spider-Man by your side was basically a guarantee of safety, even in Manhattan. Peter held your hand the whole time, swinging it like a smitten teenager. After walking nearly fifty blocks, you arrived at your apartment. You noticed that Peter seemed hesitant, only lightly resting his foot on the first step leading up the building.

“C’mon, let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want you to leave yet.” You pouted and tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him up into the doorway.

“Well then, I guess I’m not leaving.”

---

The two of you were cuddled on your small couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, Peter’s favorite show, but you weren’t paying attention. Every few seconds your eyes would dart up at the clock, waiting for the hour hand to strike 12. Peter was entranced, never letting his attention deviate from the screen, and he didn’t even notice that you weren’t looking at the TV. The minutes went by slowly and you were counting down the seconds until midnight, gripping onto Peter’s arm. He thought that you were just scared by the prospect of unsolved murders, not that you were anxiously waiting for his birthday.

The last second passed and the clock struck 12, you immediately jumped out of Peter’s embrace and turned to him. Peter sat up in shock, confused by your sudden movement. You took the opportunity to straddle him and grab his face.

“Happy birthday, My Love.”

You peppered his face with sweet kisses and his eyes widened. His body softened under your touch as a feeling of love and happiness filled his heart. Peter snaked his hands up your thighs, letting them rest on your hips, and squeezed softly. You gave him one last kiss on the lips and rested your forhead against his.

“I have a surprise for you, Birthday Boy.” You lifted yourself off of his lap and held your hand out to him.

Peter took your hand and followed you obediently, curious to see what his surprise was. You opened the door to your room, revealing the large stuffed bear and its matching box. Peter let go of your hand and excitedly ran towards your bed.

Before he could say anything, you began speaking, “I know it’s not much, and I know you probably thought that I’d have like a trail of rose petals in here or something like that. But I wanted to show you that my love for you isn’t just about our physical relationship, my love for you i-is emotional and wholesome. I love you, Peter Parker. I truly love you and I’m so happy that you’re mine. I mean, every morning I wake up, I remember that I’m dating you, and that makes me the happiest person in the world.” You reached over to the box in Peter’s hands, “So, Peter Parker, will you accept this key?”

You opened the box and Peter’s cheeks glowed red. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded his head.

“Yes! I love you so much too. I- Thank you,” He paused, “Oh no. Wait, I don’t have a key for yo–”

“Pete, this is your birthday present. I wouldn’t expect you to give me a gift on your birthday, silly.”

He rambled energetically, “You’re right… I’m still going to get you a copy though. Oh my gosh. I love this so much, and is this a spider because I’m Spider-Man?! Where’s the other half? This is so cool!”

You held up your matching locket, opening it to reveal the other half. “Yep, it is because you’re Spider-Boy. The best superhero in town. And, don’t throw away the little note at the bottom. Well, don’t open it now, but if you ever need a reminder of how much I love you, just read that note.”

Peter held your hands in his and pulled you down, both of you crashing into the giant teddy bear. The second you fell onto it, it blurted a freakish, distorted “I love you”, scaring both of you. You jumped up and looked at a wide-eyed Peter.

“Y’know, maybe we don’t need the bear. I don’t really want to be on the next episode of Unsolved.”

You laughed at Peter’s joke, pushing the bear onto the ground and kissed him. His soft lips tasted like the blueberry dessert you shared and his skin was as soft as butter.

You pulled away, foreheads resting together once more. Peter whispered, “Thank you for giving me the happiest midnight birthday, darling.”

[karlajoyner]

Stole My heart (Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so there’s this imagine let me know if I should make a part 2? Possibly a smut? I don’t know let me know! Also let me know if I should post these on wattpad too!!!

Warnings: None

————

"Owen seriously if someone catches us I'm gonna kill you"

"No ones gonna catch us. They're filming a scene" He mumbled leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.

"That's what you said last time"

"They didn't catch us" He said pushing my shirt down my shoulder.

"Yeah but they almost did- wait. Are you? Owen" I scolded pushing him away.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"What do you mean what? The makeup department will literally kill me if I show up with another hickey. Then their gonna interrogate me like they did last time since there are limited people I see daily" I groaned.

"They're not gonna kill you y/n. Relax"

"I can't relax. Now that we landed a season 2 the chances of us getting caught are much higher now. Plus my character has such a bigger part now" I spoke pacing back and forth in the dimly lit room. Julie's room set to be exact.

"I know. But you can't let that get to you now. You did amazing the first season and your gonna kill it this season. And if we get caught then oh well"

"Oh well? Oh well. Owen I already told you I don't want anyone to know about us until-"

"Until we're sure it's not gonna effect our worth ethic. I know" He muttered sitting down on the bed. I sighed realizing he was upset. It was never my intention to date my co-star. Let alone fall in love with him. But after spending countless of hours on set and off set with him there was no denying the chemistry. And what to everyone seemed like an amazing friendship was actually something more.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I wish things could be different but-"

"But this is your first big part. I get it" he said moving to sit me on his lap.

"I'll back off. We'll just have to keep sneaking around"

"Owen-"

"No harm. No foul. If this is what I have to do to be with you I'll do it" He said kissing the spot he had previously been sucking on.

"And I'd do it again" He whispered kissing my skin once more.

"And again" Another kiss.

"And again" He spoke finally meeting my lips. The kiss last longer than the ones shared previously. It was much more passionate on both ends. The risk of getting caught high.

"Owen" I giggled as he flipped us over on the bed.

"Yes?" He questioned as his fingers made their way up my shirt.

"Baby" I moaned as his hands cupped my left boob.

"Mmm" He muttered against my lips.

"We've got to get back on set soon. I have a scene with Jer" I panted pulling away.

"Don't do it"

"Owen" I warned.

"Fine" He groaned getting off me.

"But for the record if they did know we were dating I would not give my approval for the stupid kissing scene" He said kicking the ground like a little kid. Referring to the fact that my character became Reggies love interest this season.

"Be careful there babe the jealousy is peeking through. Just be lucky he's married and they cut it down from a whole make out scene" I teased checking myself in the full length mirror.

"Yeah yeah. God the unholy things I would've done to you in that bed" He whispered in my ear as his hands explored my body.

"Don't temp me Joyner" I said a smirk making it's way onto his face.

"I'm here!" I called running onto set.

"Finally! Where were you?" Charlie asked exasperatedly standing beside Kenny who was looking at script at hand.

"We don't have time to interrogate her Charlie we've got to get this scene filmed if we wanna stick to schedule. Y/n next time be on set 5 minutes before"

"Yes Kenny. Sorry I was um was distracted. Lost track of time" I said noticing Owen had walking onto set casually going to talk to Mads and Savannah.

"Okay so this scene your gonna walk in on cue to your mark. Find Luke sitting on the couch playing his guitar. Sentimental talk. Confess your undying love for Reggie. Then Jers gonna come in tell y/c/n he loves her too. But he can't be with her because he had this girlfriend back in 95 who he never officially broke up with. Then he says screw it. You kiss. End scene"

"Oh the kiss. That's this scene?" I asked finding Owen who was deeply in conversation.

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"No, no I'm ready" I said not expecting to have to do this in front of my secret boyfriend right now.

I sighed going to stand on my beginning mark. I watched as Charlie did the same.

The lights dimming in the studio to replicate nightfall.

"And action!" Kenny yelled.

I opened the barn like doors walking in slowly.

"Oh Luke. I didn't know you were here sorry I'll go-"

"No. No it's okay. I was just messing around. What's up?"

"I was looking for Reggie"

"Looking for Reggie? Oh he's with Alex and Willie. He should be back soon"

"Then I'll just go. Thanks I guess"

"Wait. Can I play you something?" Charlie questioned taking a hold of my wrist.

"Um sure. Why not?" I asked sitting down next to him. I listened as he began strumming his guitar to a familiar tune. A small smile forming on my lips.

"That was great Luke. Did you write that? Maybe about someone whose name rhymes with Judy" I spoke in a teasing matter.

"No. Actually Reggie wrote it. About someone who name rhymes with yours" He said a blush forming on my face.

"Okay. I get what your saying" I said playfully rolling my eyes.

"Good. I thought I'd have to follow up with home is where my horse is" He said making me giggle.

"How could I possibly tell a ghost who died 25 years ago that I'm completely head over heels for him?"

"Maybe the same way your telling a ghost who died 25 years ago right now" Charlie said jokingly bumping my shoulder.

"Right... I just- I don't want to get rejected by a ghost. It's one thing when they're alive but if the dead doesn't want me I think that's saying something"

"Y/n, Reggies in love with you. He'd be thrilled if you showed any romantic interest in him. At least more than you already do" He teased me once again.

"Thanks Luke. I just hope he doesn't freak out on me like last time"

"Last time?"

"Yeah last time I brought up relationships in a topic he got all weird and left. So I just never did it again"

"Oh. Look y/c/n back in 95 we had a decent following and a ton of girls following after us" A strange look forming on Charlie's face.

"Okayyy" I stretched out the word.

"And Reggie. You know him he uh well he's a fl-" Charlie words were cut off.

On cue Jeremy strolled into the studio set as Charlie and I sat facing each other stiffly.

I stifled a giggle knowing this would later be edited so it'd look like Jer flashed in out of nowhere.

"Y/c/n? Luke?"

"Oh Reggie. Hi" I stood up continuing the scene.

"Hey. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be home"

"I was. Julie invited me over for a bit and I thought I'd say hi before I uh left. I though maybe we could talk for a bit"

"Oh. Okay yeah" He slightly smiled before turning to the brunette beside me.

"And what are you still doing here?" Jeremy asked looking at Charlie.

"Hey, I was just leaving man. She's all yours" Charlie smirked at us before walking off set.

Jer and I paused until his footsteps could no longer be heard before continuing.

"So um what did you want to talk about?"

"Just um stuff" I said standing still in my spot.

"What stuff?" He asked coming to stand in front of me.

"Luke. He played me your song" I said picking up the piece of paper with chicken scratch from the coffe table.

"Lifer Girl?" I finally read the title before looking up into his brown eyes.

"Uh yeah. I'm still working on the name. Did you like it?"

"I loved it. This lifer girl. She's one lucky girl. Do I know her?"

"Of course you do. Your practically the same person" he said a piece of my hair falling to the front of my face. I nervously played with my fingers as he pushed the strand behind my ears.

"Oh. Can you tell me about her?"

"Well she's funny and makes me feel happy when I'm around her. She's really smart and her grades skyrocket compared to what mine use to be. And she's beautiful, drop dead gorgeous" He whispered tilting my head up with his fingers.

For a moment I looked up into his brown eyes wishing. Longing for them to be someone else's. I felt his finger leave my chin before he turned away dramatically.

"I shouldn't"

"Shouldn't?" I asked curiously.

"I can't"

"Can't? Why not?" I questioned once more.

"Y/c/n there's something I need to tell you"

"What is it Reg?"

"Back in 1995 you know before we died. I uh-"

"You what?" I asked urging him to continue.

"I had a girlfriend and well then we died. So we never officially broke up" Jer said.

"Oh" I mumbled backing away from him.

"I get it"

"No wait y/c/-"

"No Reggie it's okay. Your still in love with her. Of course you are. God how could I be so stupid to think that you'd actually love me. Let alone like m-" My eyes widened as I felt him crash his lips into mine completely going off script. Which wasn't uncommon. But it was supposed to be a short kiss. There were lines that were missing.

Slowly I pretended to sink into the kiss. Pulling away after a couple of seconds amongst hearing the word.

"Cut!" Kenny yelled Jeremy finally letting me go.

"That was amazing! Spectacular! Great improve Jer! We're done with this scene!" He called out to us. But all I could focus on was the look plastered on Owens face. He was hurt. But not because of the kiss. But because of the fact that he couldn't do that. Not out in public anyways.

"Yeah great going Jer" I commented to the boy in front of me.

"Thanks y/n. You did great too" He said getting near me.

"But if I were you I'd go talk to your boyfriend before he bursts" He whispered in my ear leaving me wide eyed.

"H-how'd you?"

"Know? Please everyone knows. I mean you guys aren't great at hiding things. There's actually a poll between Kenny and Charlie. Whichever one of you slips up firsts. My bets on Owen" He chuckled.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Seriously"

“Who was the first one to know"

"Sonya in makeup. The first hickey you showed up with only matched with the timeframe that you and Owen had been together. Clearly not getting lunch like you had said you were"

"That long?" I asked.

"Yup" He spoke popping his p.

"Just don't tell anyone I told you. Carolynn insisted I put you out of your misery"

"Thanks. I think" He smiled at me before walking away.

A grin began to form on my face as I made my way toward the blonde who was leaning against a wall twirling one of his drumsticks in his left hand.

"Hey. Great scene back there" He commented as I now stood in front of him.

"Thanks. You know Jers a good kisser and all but I think your better" I spoke aloud noticing Savannah's and Madison's head whipping towards us.

"What?" He asked making sure he heard right.

"You heard me Joyner" I spoke giggling at his shocked reaction.

"Now shut up and kiss me would you?" He tilted his head to be extra sure. Something I adored about him.

He always wanted to make sure I was certain about these things. I simply nodded feeling his arms wrap around me bringing his lips to meet mine.

I smiled into the kiss as he turned us around pushing me up against the wall. I giggled upon hearing clapping around us from the cast and crew.

"Finally!" I heard Savannah shout.

"Keep it PG kids!" Kenny shouted laughter following.

"You owe me 20 Gillespie!" He yelled again followed by a groan by presumably Charlie. I finally pulled away first leaving Owen in shock.

"I'm gonna need you to come back to reality lover boy" I said rubbing my thumb against his cheek.

"What made you change your mind?" He asked keeping a tight hold on my waist.

"Let's just say you have Carolynn to thank for that. Apparently everyone knew"

"What? How?"

"I guess we weren't as good at keeping a secret as we thought"

"How long?"

"First hickey"

“That long?"

"That's what I said" I laughed as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"You two are so cute"

"Thanks Mads" I smiled at the girl.

Finally able to wrap my arms around the boy who had stolen my heart without any warning.

[sunseteyes]

FLUFFVEMBER DAY 12: ATSUMU MIYA

prompt: couple’s quiz (prompts are by @jojosmilktea)

word count: 1,766 words | themes: gen!reader. youtuber!reader. fLUFF. i got carried away but this is pretty domestic honestly.

tags: @kacchanori @chickynn @todominica @sparkleswritings @brinthie @patricia-ceballos @giyuus-wife @bitchtrynafck @astrxrism @animatedarchives @deephasoceanmagic @strawberrysalwa (send a dm/ask to be added!)

rv: i know i did say atsumu’s love language here is different but love languages can change especially when you’re already in a relationship. i actually answered the quiz this time in atsumu’s perspective and it’s very difficult but yeah it has to happen lmao. i pretty much agree with the results and yes don’t take it so seriously because i’m not atsumu himself and well this is just from my own perspective, hopefully it was close enough to his character. special mention to my honey @liliannyah nia i’m tagging you here because i know you’ll be simping on tsum tsum here ya go hun

✒︎ love language

mornings with atsumu are peaceful. afternoons are full of fun, and well evenings are the best. that's usually because; around these times are when atsumu is at his best and most positive energy throughout the day.

however for you, you had a schedule beforehand and you have plans on how to spend your day, and it's with atsumu.

"hey babe, can you film with me today?" you situated yourself by the doorway of your shared bedroom, seeing the dirty blonde specks of his hair peaking under the blankets that was covering his body, the rays of light coming from the sun, escaping the gaps from the thin fabric of the curtains by your window. you wanted him to rest as much as he can since he doesn't usually have cancelled trainings, however this is also the best time for you to bond with him more, and you've got the perfect idea for that in your mind.

all he need to do is wake up and-

"i want to sleep." atsumu's voice overcomes the silence, however muffled it was. a frown forms on your lips as you made your way next to the bed, pulling the covers from his form just for him to groan and try to pull it back.

"i want to sleep, (y/n). five more minutes." he has his eyes closed as the fringes of his hair tried to protect them from the brightness of the surroundings, even from you.

atsumu must have felt the bed dip as you sat on his side, his brows furrowing at the faintness of your touch when you reached out to brush his strands away from his handsome face. you grazed lightly on his forehead, removing the sweat that must have formed due to the warmth that summer brought to the temperature.

your frown curls upwards as you admired how atsumu leans onto your hand, even for just a second. you skimmed your hand on your shirt before leaning forward and faced atsumu with an arm supporting your head on the pillow.

"you have to wake up, tsumu. i've got breakfast ready." you sang to him gently, still looking at his face with awe and wonder. most of the time, you question yourself how you got a guy like this. in those silent moments where you just feel so lucky how someone like atsumu miya could love someone like you.

"you're looking at me like that again."

you were broken from your trance as you were met by his gaze, not even looking at you before he said those words.

"what is it?" he breathes out as he closed his eyes again, now snuggling his way towards your form. you sighed and brushes his hair again, feeling out its softness despite the fact that it was dyed and it should be dry under your touch if it weren't for how atsumu takes very good care for it.

"come on, tsumu. the food will get cold." you say, only to feel him slide his arms by your waist, pulling you closer to him, embracing you even.

however no matter how much you liked it, you pushed him away, "tsumu! we're going to film today, wake up!" you whined, prying away from his grasp.

"film?" his face brightens up in almost an instant, his eyelids opening at the same time. "we? you said we?"

you smile at his reaction, relaxing and nodding your head. "yeah, i did, i literally said it five minutes ago. don't you want to?"

"of course i do!" he sits up, an evident pout on his lips. "why didn't ya say so? y'know how long i've been waiting for this day. i don't really get why you keep me from yer subscribers if you loved them so much."

you sat up as well, grinning in amusement. "you really like the attention, do you?"

"wha-? no i don't."

"oh my dear tsumu, you do." you giggle and climbed out of the bed. "come on let's eat first. i already set up everything so we can film right after eating."

time passes by and before you know it, you and atsumu were already in front of the camera, the lights not bothering you anymore with how you were so used to having them around you. atsumu also seemed to be in the similar situation and was much more comfortable with where he was situated, as if this was his moment.

after all, you made him wait for a long time before finally deciding to show him in front of the whole world.

“is this live?”

you nod at him, “yeah, are you nervous?”

“huh-me, nervous? ‘course not.” he scoffs but as you poke his chest and stopped there for awhile, you gave him a smirk, to which he merely slaps your hand away and pouts away.

“hello there! how’s everyone?” you immediately smile at the camera, your laptop showing the bountiful of comments that spams in an instant. you could see atsumu’s reflection on the screen, his grin wide and slightly bit awkward, but it’s not what your fans are commenting about.

“uh-so you guys probably guessed who our guest is.” you smirk, glancing sideways at atsumu. “and yes, he’s my boyfriend. say hello, tsumu.”

atsumu was a natural as he introduces himself on the screen, a welcoming smile on his face, as if he had been filming for a vlog as long as you do and that he was completely adjusting with the situation. you couldn’t help but curve your lips upwards in turn, nodding off eventually at whatever he was saying.

“so! today we, me and atsumu are going to answer a quiz in front of everyone.”

“a quiz?”

“yep! a couple’s quiz.” you purposely didn’t inform atsumu beforehand what you will do and you explained it on the screen as all the attention turns to you.

“what? you scared, tsumu?” you teased him and he juts his lower lips as a reaction.

“‘course not. i’m gonna answer each of them like a pro.”

you laughed heartily as you grabbed your phone, handing atsumu out his at the same time. “me and atsumu are going to answer a couple’s love language quiz and compare our love languages. you guys can answer with us if you like, just search it up on your search engines,” leaning forward, you muttered with “i’m not gonna tell the site coz y’know this is not really a sponsored video.”

your hand suddenly found itself on top of atsumu’s as you explain the five love languages briefly, feeling his gaze on yours despite not looking at him directly. you have no idea if he was paying attention with your ramblings but if he’s busy admiring you, you’re too humble to even think about it.

or not.

“so, are you ready tsumu?” he was cut off of his trance and he pretends he was alright when he smiles in the camera and answers enthusiastically.

“but what if i like both?”

“there’s no option for both tsumu.”

“but i like hugging you and receiving letters. remember when you confessed to me with a-“

your hand immediately shoots up to his mouth and he chuckles in delight in the victory of having to tease you in front of your fans. by now you’re wondering if you should regret having atsumu for the first time in your vlog in live.

“these questions are really difficult.” you say, finding yourself stuck into yet again an array of indecisiveness.

“where are you already?”

“i’m at 23%” you answer, glancing up at atsumu. “‘bout you?”

“30%,” he says, shooting an eye at the camera. “(y/n)’s really slow especially when answering these types of quizzes. they’re that indecisive.”

“what-“

“i’m the decisive one in this relationship. that’s why i have to always ask them three hours before our date which place they would like to eat at.”

you gave up on reprimanding atsumu as you focused on your questionnaire, picking an answer as atsumu chats with your fans who commented about how they noticed about it too.

“see? your fans agree to me. we’re already best of friends.”

you shook your head as you found yourself grinning from atsumu’s words.

“oh- a back rub seems nice.” you heard him mutter later on and when you glanced at him, he was not looking at you but you could tell with how he gripped on his shoulders that he’d need one sooner or later after the film.

it was not unusual for you to massage him every once in awhile, or maybe more than that. that habit actually started way before you two had gotten together and he always told you how you’re good with your hands. he admitted one morning after some time of being officially a couple that he liked your massages a lot.

atsumu finishes the quiz first before you and he takes the initiative of talking with your fans as you finish up yours. you laugh along with them every time atsumu attempts to make a joke and read along the lines of the comments section.

“yay i’m done!”

atsumu turns to you with a “took you long enough” but he places a hand by your knee, his attention now on yours. “so, what did you get?”

“my highest is quality time!” you leaned to the camera lens as you showed your results to the screen, making sure that you were able to really make it visible. “followed by receiving gifts and physical touch. how about you, ‘tsumu? what’d you get?”

he places his phone next to yours before he answers with a bright smile. “i got the same too! looks like me and (y/n) are real meant to be, don’t you think?”

you could feel your cheeks burn especially when he pulls his phone away and reaches out to your side just to place his hand on your waist, keeping it there like a protective and proud boyfriend he is. you were speechless for awhile and it was a good thing that atsumu led the conversation on in your silence. whether it was intentional or not, that you didn’t know.

but now that you realized it, atsumu and you had the same results most probably because both of you wanted to spend more time and moments like this with each other. sooner than later, he’ll be busy with trainings again and you with your vlogs.

feeling that familiar sense of radiance in your chest, you leaned your head on atsumu’s shoulders, once again feeling lucky to have him by your side, even with the littlest of times.

[starrysupercell]

I didn't notice till now, but you've said before that "[Edgar isn't mean] unless you push him, as Colette learned the hard way once." Could you elaborate? My interest is PIQUED. (Unless it's a spoiler for smthn!)

I'd love to! Much more manageable than the mess that's WKBRL.

Luckily, I don't think it's too much of a spoiler since it just involves my interpretation of how Colette and Edgar met and eventually became friends! (In my main verse.)

It might come up later, when I get to the Gift Shop Arc too... so it's more of a sneak peek I guess? :3

Afternote: Sorry this took so long! It came out longer than I expected (practically wrote the story itself oml), and I was tired all while writing it out. Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it sounds cheesy--

~

In short, I see Edgar + Colette as the "extrovert adopts the introvert" friendship, but since Edgar is callous and Colette is pushy (both more than necessary), it wasn't the best way for that bond to start.

When Edgar started working around the holidays, Colette has been self-appointed welcoming committee to anybody new, so he was no different. Mr. Chip on his shoulder swerved every which way except friendship because he’s edgy.

So this whole Edgar unnecessarily dragging his heels and Colette meaning well, but not getting that it's prying continues for some time. Edgar isn't really happy, and even Colette is low-key frustrated. Just accept comradery, darn it!!

I feel the breaking point is when she finds out something big (most likely that El Primo is his favorite Brawler) and takes the initiative to make a big deal about it. Like, at a public show type big deal, complete with El Primo. who is very big on theatrics. being told by Colette that Edgar’s a big fan.

I haven't quite been able to flesh out the details yet, but Edgar is outraged, shocked and embarrassed at the intrusion and the sudden 'spotlight' on him. He might just flee at the moment, but he’s angry most of all and he’s going to confront her.

Biting things are said. Edgar is pissed and relentless. The gist of his words is “Get off my back and stop being some freak who needs constant validation from everybody.” but like in the meanest way possible.

Colette gets it, and backs off. She doesn’t talk to him, and after a few days of silently working together, switches out her shift too. 

Edgar takes it lightly at first. He does not miss her shenanigans, and even welcomes the quiet stretches of work hours.

Day in... day out.

He realizes it's boring without Colette's annoying motor-mouth to pass the time. But that doesn't mean he'll take back what he said. He's not going to apologize, because he's TOLD Colette to quit her self-projection BS. Yeah. And he doesn't feel guilty one bit! At all. Totally.

A few weeks drag by.

On Colette's side, she pretends that nothing's the matter but Byron notices the change in temperament (and schedule). A chat is easily coaxed out of Colette, and by the end of it, she determines that she should try to make things right.

So she apologizes. Not a full blown, in-person, heart felt conversation with tight hugs and tears as she would want it to be. But in the way Edgar would want it to be.

She crafts a gift, attaches a handwritten notecard, and leaves it in a place she knows Edgar will find. And she leaves it at that, whether he accepts her apology or not, her conscience is clear, because she means it.

When Edgar does encounter it, he feels better/worse over the situation. On one hand, at least Colette has realized her errors. On the other hand. He feels like the jerk now.

Now it's his turn to meet her halfway. (Byron also has a talk with him and pretends not to know about the gift. "Oh? You two had a fight? This is the first I'm hearing of it.")

On one of his days off, Edgar comes into Colette's shift. He doesn't know how to approach her. Eventually, he swallows his pride and just steps up to the counter.

Their talk is awkward at first, but once Colette realizes that he's here to thank her and apologize, the tension's gone and they're able to make up.

They hang out after her shift that day, and on occasion work together. Colette is a little less pushy, and conversely, Edgar reaches out a little more.

Compromise is important to make workdays and customers more bearable after all. May as well get through crappy retail on good terms. (And there's still worse to come~ >:3c)

[Maybe insert chapter 5 of "Bounced Around" here, idk.]

They're Super Mega BFFs now, in Colette's words. In Edgar's, they're "cool now."

[sammysmaddy]

You (Sam x Reader)*

Summary: Sam has been watching you for quite some time now and one night he gets his opportunity to have you.

Characters: Stalker!Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (AU, Sam and Dean don't know each other)

Rating: 18+

Chapter Warnings: Angst, stalking, dub con at the very least, non con beginning, p in v, protected sex (kind of) :), crying, oral (fem. receiving), talk of rape, implied attempted date rape (not from Sam), hand job ish, blowjob ish, rough sex, breeding kink ish, hair pulling. I think that's it.

W/C: Well over 10,000 :) I got carried away in the story lol.

A/N: Inspired by 'You' because I love crazy psycho people and it makes me more than happy to pretend that Sam could be like that too. Let me know if you want this to be a series ;)

Masterlist

Sam's POV

You looked so pretty on your date tonight. Your date is an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, and I know you see it. I don't know what you find attractive about him, he doesn't care about you or how you're feeling- he only cares what you look like. You're just arm candy for his selfish need to be seen by everyone and you seem to be paying no attention to that fact. He ignores you when you talk, he looks down your shirt at your cleavage every time you turn your head, and he only talks about himself. Yet, most likely knowing all of this, you find him fascinating. You stay quiet when he speaks, you laugh at his half-assed jokes, you let him talk about you like you're not even there. When his friend came to talk from a few tables over, you let him degrade you. You let him talk about how perfect your body is, how compliant you are, and you smiled as he did so. But, you still didn't seem to mind. You blushed and took his disgusting words as a compliment. Maybe you're hoping that he'll be able to satisfy you at the end of the night or maybe the only thing that's keeping you sane are his green eyes. He doesn't even truly recognize how beautiful you are.

But I do. You, Y/N, I knew it was you ever since the first time we met. It was that small coffee shop in the middle of the city, so far from your house that I had a hard time tracking you down. After watching you, I realized that you don't even like coffee. You only like it when it's pumped full of sugar and completely diluted into almost zero caffeine. I purposefully bumped into you to get your attention and you apologized to me. Too bad you were in a hurry that day, I would have loved to get to know you right off the bat. I could have drank my coffee and you could have drank your sugar concoction and we could have talked until the store closed. I would have found out what interests you, what your hobbies were, what your family was like, and maybe in a few months, you would have invited me to meet them.

You weren't like all of the other girls. You're shy and you're sweet and you're too scared to tell the waiter when your order comes out wrong, you are the definition of perfect. You don't like overstepping boundaries or oversharing details about yourself because you're too scared that people might find you annoying, but you are just the opposite. You're everything I've ever wanted. Your head holds beautiful locks of hair, your nose crinkles when you smile, your eyes shut when you laugh too hard, and the best part is that you don't even have to try. Even when you don't wear makeup or focus on your appearance, you are just as breathtaking. You are intoxicating, you are the essence of beauty, you are meant for me- and for the fucked up fact of the day, you don't even know who I am.

You don't even know that I've been protecting you for the past six months, watching over you at home to make sure you don't choke on your food or accidentally hurt yourself. You don't know that I follow you to the store and through the parking lot to make sure nobody takes advantage of you. You don't know that I watch you every time you choose a random douchebag from the bar to take home or how I see that you can make any man come undone in less than three minutes. You don't know how much I envy them or how much I wished that you made those faces for me.

But they always let you down, don't they? It's like you don't love yourself, it's like you want to be used by all of those men. You never choose the right one and every time you're close to release, they beat you to the punch. I know the face you make when you come undone around your fingers and they rarely ever get the pleasure of seeing it for themselves. Then they leave you a mess that you have to sort out for yourself. I would never do that to you, Y/N. I would never leave you unsatisfied, I would leave you begging for more- I know it. I would be as gentle or as rough as you'd like, I'd find every sweet spot that made your back arch, taste how sweet you are, I'd know just how long to fuck you before you wanted to stop, I would make sure that you came before I did, I'd fill you perfectly. But maybe you wouldn't want that. Maybe, you'd want to use me- and I'd let you. I'd let you use me however your big heart desired, I'd let you ride me until the sun came up, I'd let you leave marks all over my body and claim me to let everyone know that I'm yours, I would embrace whatever kinks or fantasies you'd be too scared to share with anybody else, Hell- I'd let you tie me up and blindfold me if it meant I could feel you cum around my cock.

And maybe it's not even the sex that would make you satisfied. Maybe it would be the way I treated you. I would value you more than anything, I already do, I would make sure you fed yourself properly, I would kiss you goodnight and make sure the thermostat was on the perfect temperature. I would go with you to the stores, help you cook dinner, schedule your doctor's appointments for you. I'd make sure your coffee had the perfect amount of sugar in it, I'd always let you choose where we ate if we chose to go out, I'd let you show me off to all of your friends- treat me how all of those other men treat you. When it comes to you, Y/N, it doesn't matter what I want. It's all about you. It's been all about you since the first time I saw you.

The only flaw I can seem to find is the men you choose, but you're too sweet to turn them down- maybe, it isn't your fault. Maybe you don't actually like them. Maybe you see one good quality in them and try your best to focus on it, maybe you hope that they can bend and shape into what you want them to be. If only you knew how willing I would be to change for you. And don't get me wrong, I have problems too, Y/N. I can't seem to talk to you. I can't even get you to notice me. At first, I tried almost every day. I'd get to your doorstep and my hand would raise itself to knock, but then I would get scared. I didn't think it through properly and even when I did- I still couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't just show up at your door like that, I had to make sure when we met again that it would be perfect. But the time never came and it never felt right. That and, the more time went on the more my anxieties rose, and that caused problems within itself. What if I wasn't your type? What if you didn't like my jokes or the way I laughed? What if you thought I was too tall or I didn't have enough muscles? But the truth is if I didn't get the courage to actually talk to you- I wouldn't ever get the answers to those questions.

So I watched. Waited for the perfect time that never seem to come. You were laughing at that asshole's jokes like he was some sort of comedian. He wasn't. He was just some low life from Lawrence, Kansas, he wasn't good enough for you. Dean Winchester, he happened to be the most mysterious one yet. It was hard for me to find information about him, but not impossible. His father was a drunk, meaning he still had some emotional trauma- he could easily hurt you. He drove a beat-up Chevrolet Impala that screamed I'm a dick, but you found it fascinating. You don't even know anything about cars, why did you lie to him? He's been on national headlines more than once, sometimes even for murder, but those cases mysteriously went away. You wouldn't know any of this. You don't do your research. You should know who you're really with. But, luckily, you have me. I'll do all the nitty-gritty dirty work just for you. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you, I'll make sure you're safe.

The end of the night was imminent as you stood up from your table. Dean stood up with you, leaving his chair untucked while you tucked yours under the table. Classic dick move. He gave you a cocky smirk, placing his hand out for you to take- and you did. You followed him into the parking lot and got in his car. I love you, but sometimes I wish you knew better. I started my own car's engine, opting to leave the lights off, as I trailed a few cars behind you. He was a reckless driver, swerving like a drunk and causing chaos, but I bet you found it funny. I bet you found him wild and daring, maybe that's your type. I could easily be that.

I was beginning to lose you, I didn't want to get a ticket for speeding and having my headlights off, but the streets looked more and more familiar. He was taking you to your house. It hurt my heart how sporadically you allowed random men into your house, but I got my kicks with everlasting memories from those nights- the thought was almost enough to give me an erection. He didn't know the backroads to your house, but I did. I beat you, parking across the street and turning my car off- hopefully, you thought I lived there by now. Then I heard the low rumble of his shitty car pulling up to your house and then you kissed him in the front seat. Were you really going to take him right there? Nope. He opened his door, awkwardly shuffling to reach yours before you could do it yourself, and then he opened your car door- the only gentlemanly thing he's done all night. You thanked him, patting down your jeans as if they were dirty. You shyly swiped your hair behind your ear, you were nervous. Why were you nervous? This was a weekly thing for you. Did you realize how bad of a guy he was?

I quickly put my beanie on, hoping that I would be less noticeable- but I'm a giant, hopefully, you're too tipsy to notice me. I had to be on my guard if you were nervous, so I stepped out of my car. I walked around the back, making sure I had my knife in my pocket and tried to watch you as inconspicuously as possible. You led him up the front porch, turning around before you reached the door. You gave him a warm smile and he placed a hand on the wood just above your head. His head lowered, placing a kiss on your lips so harshly that you fell back into the door. I got worried about him hurting you, but then you placed a hand on his chest. You pushed against him, lightly, knowing you- you probably didn't want to let him down. You shook your head and his head lowered again, forcing himself onto you as you squirmed underneath him.

This is why I'm here for you. This is why I'll always protect you, even if you don't know I'm doing it. My fight or flight mode activated and I pretended to walk down the street. I tried my best not to look as he shook the locked doorknob with his hand, trying to force himself in. I knew he wasn't good for you, Y/N. You're lucky that I'm here to save you. I reached the bottom of your steps, still on the public sidewalk, and pretended to notice what was happening. I could hear you whimpering, suffocated by his kiss. He was disgusting.

"Hey, man. I think she said stop," I yelled at him, but he didn't stop. I frowned, looking at how he was attacking you with his mouth. Cautiously, I took three steps up- so close to you and him. "Back off," I said, reaching the top step and yanked his shoulder.

He turned around, chest puffed but he was small compared to me. Your eyes widened, your lips a beautiful color of rose, and I barely heard him talking to me as I looked at you. So close I could almost taste you. "Mind your fucking business," He said, pushing at my shoulders and snapping me out of my trance- God, you are so powerful.

"Are you okay?" I asked you, ignoring his small hands that were just pushing against my frame. Your eyes stayed widened as you nodded your head up and down, but I knew better. He was going to hurt you, you were not okay.

"She's fucking fine, man. Get the fuck out of here," He grit through white teeth- almost as white as mine.

I tilted my head towards him and he raised his eyebrows at me, then the anger took over. I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to- and I didn't. My hand came up from lying lazily by my side and my fist collided with his cheek. I heard you gasp at the same time as the collision, it felt so good to hear you after all this time. He stumbled back, ready to full-on fight me, but you stepped in between us. You are so strong. He almost hit you, but he stopped himself just in time. He's lucky, if he would have laid his hands on you like that- he was going to be a dead man. Your hands smoothed down his chest, trying to calm him down. Why were you helping him? Your heart is just too big. Then, you turned around and faced me. You were breathtaking, even more so this close. I hadn't been this close to you since the coffee shop way back when. Your lips were perfectly plump and your eyes twinkled in the dim porch lighting. You were made for me.

"What's your name?" You asked me, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes stayed wide and I fell in love with them on the spot.

"I- I'm Sam," I told you, stuttering just like I thought I would when I finally introduced myself to you, and you nodded your head cautiously.

"Well, Sam," You said and it was hard to pay attention to the rest of your sentence. My name sounded heavenly rolling off your tongue. "We are just, um, we're role-playing." You told me with question in your voice. I watched your throat as you swallowed anxiously. Huh, should have known you had those kinds of fantasies. "Right, Dean?" You asked, turning towards him and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" He asked in return, rubbing at the fresh fist mark on his face. "You know what? I've had a lovely night. Thank you, sweetheart, but I ought to get going." He gave you a fake smile, patting your shoulder in a friendly way, and shoving his way past me down the steps. I watched him as he got in his car and quickly drove away, then I turned to look at you. You were still nervous. He was gone, hopefully, you'd feel safe now.

"Thank you," You muttered quietly, giving me a soft smile. Your cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of crimson and I smiled back at you.

"I can stay around. You know, make sure he's gone for sure," I told you and you immediately shook your head 'no'. Oh, Y/N, I'm not the bad guy. Stop looking at me like you're so scared.

"I'm okay. Thank you anyways," You told me, reaching into your pocket and digging out your house key. Your eyes strayed away from mine, even before you turned around to unlock the front door.

"I, uh, I really don't mind. I just want to make sure you're safe," I pressed on as you unlocked the door. You didn't open it though, you turned around to look at me.

"Sam, really. I'm okay. You can go home now." You said with haste in your tone. I tilted my head and furrowed my eyebrows, what was so important that you couldn't talk to me for a few minutes? You turned around, opening your front door, and let yourself inside. You were getting away.

"Y/N, really, I can make sure he doesn't come back," I said, now haste was in my tone, as I stopped you from closing the door on me.

You pushed against my hand before you stopped, realizing that I was much stronger than you. It wasn't meant to scare you, but you looked like you had just seen a ghost. Your face grew pale as you looked at me, tears welling in your eyes as they stared into mine. Why were you so upset? Maybe you didn't find me attractive- I really hope that wasn't the case. I pushed the door open lightly and you stood there in all your glory, but you fiddled with your fingers nervously. I watched as the tears ran down your cheeks, wondering what the hell happened to you that made you so upset. But I was here to help. Like I said earlier, I'm always going to be here to help you. I slowly stepped into your house to show you that I'm not a threat and wrapped my arms around you. I felt you tremble in my grip and you didn't hug me back. Was I making you upset? I hadn't done anything to you, maybe it was Dean. Maybe you lied to me so that I didn't know what he was about to do to you. You can trust me, I hope you know that.

"Please, stop," You whimpered in a small voice and I pulled back immediately, your wish is my command Y/N. My hands smoothed down your arms, holding your hands as I looked down at you to see what was wrong. You jerked your hands out of mine and took a step back. I took a step forward. I had to make sure you were okay. "I need you to leave, please." You told me, sniffling your way through the sentence. I don't understand. I just saved you and you want me to leave? You took another step back and I took another one forward. "Please, Sam. You're scaring me." You told me, so vulnerable and honest, but you still used the word please.

"I'm sorry. I just- I needed to know you were going to be okay," I admitted to you, hoping that you would calm down- but you didn't. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, almost hard enough to draw blood. Did I do something wrong? Why were you being like this? "Why are you still scared?" I asked you, brushing the hair out of your face and you winced.

"I- I don't know," You told me, grabbing my hand lightly and pushing it down my side. You were so warm, I can't want to feel you everywhere. But I couldn't get past your last comment. You were lying. Why would you lie to me?

"Why are you lying?" I asked you and you shook your head in defiance.

"I- I'm not. I promise," You replied, your shaking breath told me otherwise.

"Y/N, you don't have to be scared of me," I said, realizing exactly where I fucked up. Your name. You never told me it and here I was acting like I knew you, I was getting ahead of myself. "I, uh, you're my neighbor. That's how I know your name." I tried to cover myself, chuckling nervously, but you shook your head again. Shit, I really fucked up.

"No, you're not," You told me, your voice almost cracking as fresh tears continued to spill down your face.

"Okay, but my grandparents-" I began to reexplain myself.

"No, they don't," You cut me off and I tilted my head at you, how would you know? "I- I know you've been following me." You bit your lip and my heart dropped into my stomach. Fuck, maybe you do pay attention to your surroundings.

"I can explain-" I told you, but you made a run for it. Your feet took you surprisingly fast up the stairs and I felt my heart beat out of my chest. I didn't know what else to do, you were going to call the cops on me- get me arrested, I couldn't let that happen. I ran after you, but you reached your bedroom door and slammed it in my face. I shook the door handle, knowing it was most likely already locked, and began to curse at myself. "Please, Y/N! Just let me in, I promise I can explain everything to you!" I yelled, desperately shaking the door as I heard you sobbing on the other side.

"Sam, just go. I- I won't call the cops if you leave. I promise, Sam. I promise." You told me in between choked sobs and my heart broke for you.

This was not how I imagined meeting you again would go. As much as you sounded like you believed the words coming out of your mouth, I couldn't take that chance. I didn't have any other plan but to speak to you and I was not going to go to jail for wanting to have a conversation. I dug in my pocket for my lock-pick, which I always kept in case someone was hurting you or you were in trouble. Little did I know I would be using it to let myself in your room. I wasn't really sure how to use it, so I fiddled it around a bit- knowing you could hear my desperation. Then the lock clicked and I silently applauded myself, opening the door to see you sitting on your window ledge. You looked back at me as I ran towards you and you jumped. You're lucky my long legs reached you before you fell and hurt yourself. I pulled you up, collapsing backward as I held you in my arms. You were silently crying, not bothering to break away from my grip and it felt good to feel your heart beating against my chest. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. You were perfect no matter how much you feared me.

"It's okay, Y/N. I just want to talk," I said in a quiet voice, stroking your wet hair strands out of your face. You shivered in my grip, turning your head away from my hand and I frowned. Why are you so difficult? Why can't you just let me love you?

"Are you going to hurt me?" You asked in a soft tone, still looking forward like you didn't want to look at me.

"No, of course not. Why would I hurt you?" I asked in return and you didn't reply for a good ten seconds.

"I'm sorry," You told me and I almost let myself fall for it. You attacked too quickly, shoving your elbow into my ribs as you scrambled to get up. You began to run towards the door, but I grabbed your ankle and you fell on the floor. It didn't have to be this way, Y/N, you just had to make it painful. "Please, Sam," You choked out as I sat on my knees, pulling you closer to me by your ankle. You turned yourself around, propping yourself on your elbows, and looked at me with glossy eyes. I used your thighs to pull you closer to my lap, letting them linger there when I got you where I wanted you. "Sam, let's just- let's talk, okay?" You asked me frantically and I didn't understand why your tone changed so drastically until I looked down.

"Oh, sorry," I told you as I realized how uncomfortable it might be for you to be so intimately close with me. You pulled your thighs off of mine and sat across from me, holding onto your knees for dear life. "Just promise you won't run from me, okay?" I asked you and you nodded your head slowly. Finally, now we can actually talk. "I- I have had a, um, a liking for you for-"

"Six months," You muttered, burying your head in your knees. Were you really that smart or was I really that dumb? Why didn't you do anything?

"You knew?" I asked in confusion and you nodded your head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. They didn't believe me," You sniffled and I frowned. It made me upset that you went to the police before you decided to have a conversation with me. I hadn't even done anything to you and you tried to get me put in jail?

"You what?" I seethed through my teeth, feeling my blood boil. I didn't mean to get angry with you, but everything was falling apart too quick and it was the only way I could tell you I was upset. Your body shivered with my sharp words, but you didn't say anything. "Y/N, tell me exactly what you told the police," I told you, starting to panic. What if you told Dean and Dean was on his way to the station now? I needed to know. I reached across, meaning to be light-handed but it didn't exactly work out that way as I shook your arms so that you would look at me. "Tell me."

"I just- I was scared," You told me, finally looking up and showing me the fear I unintentionally instilled in you. "I didn't tell them anything, I just told them I was scared." You trembled, sounding like you were telling the truth for a change. Maybe you were just saying that so I would leave you alone. Not going to happen. You betrayed me. But still, I never meant to hurt you, that was my fault. We all have our faults, Y/N, and mine is growing in my boxers because of how close we are. You drive me crazy.

"It's okay, Y/N. It's going to be okay," I told you, pushing your hair behind your back and you stayed still. My thumbs wiped the tears off of your cheeks, only for your eyes to produce more. You're so sad, but you're still just as beautiful as ever. I couldn't help myself, holding your face in my hands brought an excitement in me that I couldn't contain as I smashed my lips onto yours. To my surprise, you didn't move. You didn't pull back or fight me, you just sat there and let me kiss you. Your lips were so soft, I just wished they kissed me back. "Just let me make you feel better."

"Please, Sam I-" You began to say, but I put my index finger over your lips. You were going to say everything I didn't hear and I want for the both of us to enjoy this as much as possible.

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to do anything, just let me love you." I told you, not waiting for your reply as I pressed my lips onto yours. Your mouth parted slowly, I suspect to protest, but it gave me the perfect access to shove my tongue inside of you. You tasted like sweet wine and chapstick as I explored every inch of your mouth, you were so much warmer than I expected. You didn't move your lips but that's okay, I'll do all the work for you. My hands travel from your cheeks and down to your neck, pulling you in closer to me. You were already close, but I couldn't help but feel like I needed you closer.

You whimpered into my mouth but I pretended that it was a moan as I trailed my lips down your cheek. They reached your neck, sucking in hard enough to leave a mark but not hard enough to hurt you, and I couldn't help but imagine- if your neck tasted this good, then how would your pussy taste? My erection was growing stronger, itching to get out of its confines as I continued to kiss your neck. I heard you choke yet again another sob, but I knew you wanted me- or else you wouldn't let me do this to you. You let me pull you closer, straddling your hips around my waist as I became drunk on the kisses that I was giving you. Your legs tightened around my waist and your arms lazily landed around my shoulders- surely you wouldn't do that if you didn't want me.

It gave me even more confidence, my hands reached up to cup your perfect breasts through your simple blue shirt. You always looked good in blue. Your breasts were the perfect handful for me, soft and warm skin that I couldn't wait to suck on. I couldn't help but groan into your neck as I imagined all of the things that I wanted to do to you. But, as I was kissing you, you pushed on my chest. You were light-handed, almost like you didn't want to hurt me, and you looked into my eyes.

"I thought you just wanted to talk," You said, lowering your head to look down at the predicament you got yourself in. My hands supported your lower back, making sure that you didn't fall backward and hurt yourself. It felt so good to have you this close to me, and maybe you knew I had been watching you, but you probably didn't know how much I dreamt this day would come. "Sam, are you listening?" You asked me and I realized that I wasn't. I was too busy looking at your body on top of mine, relishing the weight I felt as you sat on top of me, but maybe you know just what I like. Maybe you know I love it when you say my name, you seem to say it a lot.

"What's wrong?" I asked you as I continued to watch the tears stream down your face, but you shook your head as if nothing was wrong.

"I'm not sober. Don't you want me when I'm sober?" You asked me and I almost took a few seconds to think about it- but then I realized that you just didn't want to be with me. I worked too damn hard for too damn long for you to slip away from me, we're so close, you should just enjoy the time we have together.

"You only had two glasses of wine, Y/N," I told you, and you bit your bottom lip, knowing that I was right- you were definitely sober. I almost got angry again, it upsets me deeply when you lie to me, but then I looked at your lip. I always loved it when you would bite your lip, you're lucky you're so beautiful, or else I would be very unhappy that you weren't telling the truth. "What's wrong?" I asked again, why was I not good enough for you?

"Sam, I'm sure you're a great guy..." Here comes the 'but', "...but maybe I'm not the right girl for you. You deserve someone who loves you just the same, and I'm sorry, I just don't." You told me, trying your best to let me down easy. I'll admit, it hurt to hear those words come out of your mouth, it hurt to hear things that I didn't want to hear. Here comes my 'but'... but I still love you no matter what. I just wish I never gave you the opportunity to speak up in the first place. I won't make that mistake again.

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N, but you know I can't just leave. You know how long I've been waiting to have you all to myself," I told you honestly, hoping that you would understand where I was coming from. You nodded your head, fresh tears spilling down your rosy cheeks, and I gave you a soft smile. I knew you didn't want this, Hell, I didn't want this- I never wanted it to be so one-sided, but I tried my best to get past that. You being so compliant just shows me how much you were made for me. You couldn't even let me down even after knowing that I've been watching you for quite some time. You're so sweet that it makes the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. "I want you to enjoy this too." I told you and you stayed silent, which is fine- I am going to lose it if you tell me that you don't want me again. "Can you walk over to your bed with me?" I asked and it took you a few seconds before you nodded your head.

I helped you stand up, holding tightly onto your hand to make sure you didn't escape- but not tight enough to the point where you might think it was to hurt you. You faced me at the edge of your beautifully made bed, another thing I loved about you was how nice you kept your room, and you looked up to me for instruction. Your eyes are wide and glossy, but they're not spilling tears anymore. I hope it's because you want this and not because your tear well is empty, but it doesn't really matter to me anymore because I am finally going to have you. I dipped down to kiss your cheek and you didn't even flinch, maybe I'm growing on you. My hands landed tightly on your waist, picking you up and setting you on the bed. Now you're eye level with me and I take this perfect opportunity to kiss you again. My fingers travel up your body and lock themselves into your hair, pulling your face closer to mine and I wrap my lips onto yours. Just as soft, a little less salty as earlier, and becoming plumper as I suck on them.

You surprise me when your hands land on my waist and it sends a jolt of electricity through my body before I realize you're trying to push me away. It's okay, Y/N, I'll push through to you. I grab your wrists, I'll admit a little too harshly for my liking, and push them to your sides while I continue to devour your lips. I push my hips closer to yours, pressing against your clothed core, and you whimper into my mouth. You sound just as divine as I thought you would. I pull at the bottom of your shirt and naturally you fight me, but sooner or later you will realize that I will get what I want. Lifting your shirt above your head, I try my best not to look up at your face because I don't want to see the hurt in your eyes. I'm not hurting you. I'm making you feel better. I am making up for all of those shitty guys who could never satisfy you the way that you deserve to be satisfied.

Your shirt hits the floor and my mouth waters at the sight of your slightly clothed chest. I reach around your back to unclasp the simple black bra that you always wear on the nights that you take men home, I wonder why you fought Dean tonight- but I push that to the back of my mind as the fabric falls down your arms and reveals your perfect breasts. You're sobbing again, I can hear it, but all my mind can focus on is the fact that- right here, right now, you are all mine and nobody can take that away from me, not even you. I tried to be nice, I tried the talking thing, you cried and cried, but then I realized that you'd never give yourself to me like that. I'm not your usual guy, I don't go to bars or try to charm you by getting you drunk, I don't try to charm you by talking about myself- I've barely even talked to you at all, maybe I'm not your type. That's okay, it's just one night, Y/N. You owe me that much.

My hands find your breasts, cupping them until I feel your nipples harden against my palms. They're almost rock solid when I go to pinch them and the surrounding skin is prickled with goosebumps, I can feel myself growing harder in my jeans.

"Wait, Sam," You told me just before I lowered my face into your chest. I pulled back to look at you and you bit your lip again- it's like you know exactly how to get me going. "You've been watching me for a long time now, right?" You asked me, nervousness in your shaking breath. I nodded my head, hoping that you were becoming more willing to share yourself with me- it is definitely the best way to have you, but not my only choice if I had to. "So, you know I use condoms, then. I, uh, I don't like birth control because it-"

"Because it makes you cry too much," I cut you off before you can fully explain it. You frown at me and I tilt my head in return, I was just saving you time because I knew it would have taken you a while to explain.

"Sam, you're a freak, I hope you know that," You mutter under your breath and it's almost enough to make me knock you out, but I'll give you another try. I'm not a freak... I just love you a little more than I should. "Condoms are in-"

"Bottom drawer, left side," I finish your sentence, see how well I know you? Don't you see how much I care for you? You nod your head and you get goosebumps all over your body again, your nipples like delicate flowers blooming in the springtime.

All right, we're definitely getting somewhere. By you telling me this- caring about how I take you, shows me that maybe just maybe you want me too. I leave you there, trusting you not to run anymore, and I make my way to your nightstand. The bottom drawer encases well over a hundred rubbers, all different sizes, even different flavors which is interesting because you don't let them in your mouth. I pick a random one up, hoping that maybe it will fit, but then again I don't really care. You're lying back on the bed, arms covering your chest, and looking back at me. You are so effortlessly beautiful, so pretty when you're not trying to fight me off. I walk back to the edge of the bed and you don't pick your head up to look at me, but it's okay. I'll take what I can get- at least you're not crying anymore.

I climb on, the weight of my body into the soft mattress making you fall a little bit closer to me. It's like you knew I was going to move your arms as you lay them at your side, fully exposing your bare chest to me. I give you a small smile and you roll your eyes at me in return, you're lucky I find it cute when you do that. As much as I want to stare at you like this for eternity, the twitching member in my pants tells me that I should get you even more undressed. You lay there, almost lifeless, as I thumb your jeans open. I undo the zipper, taking my time with it as I hook my fingers into the waistband. You don't help me or lift your hips when I start to pull down, which is fine, you're perfect just the way you are. Then, your jeans hit the floor and your panties are the only thing in the way from me seeing all of you. You look beautiful like this and I waste no time taking my own shirt off.

When I turn around to throw my shirt on the ground I feel your hands on my stomach. They're small and warm as they smooth along the dips of my muscles and I turn back to look at you. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and when you smile at me all of my concerns melt away. You move around, which makes my heart beat out of my chest, and you end up on your knees in front of me. For a change of pace, I don't know what to do when your hands pull my head closer to you and you place your lips on mine. When I kiss you back and rest my hands on the sides of your neck, your fingers leave my hair and land comfortably on my sides. It feels so good to have you kiss me back, you're nipping at my bottom lip with your teeth and swirling your tongue inside of me. Months I waited for this to happen and it's even more surreal than I thought it would be. You know what you're doing and it's evident by the way you lead my lips back and forth with your own. I knew you were perfect when I chose you. Then you pull back and my lips chase yours.

"Am I the freak now?" You ask me, your eyes soft. I shake my head 'no' and I feel your delicate fingers trail down my v-line to the top of my jeans. I look down as they unsecured the button, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't having a hallucination, and I hear you giggle softly. "Why didn't you just ask for my number, Sam? I mean, I'm flattered, really- I just wish it didn't happen like this." You told me and I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, and you continued to talk for me. "You're handsome, you're tall, you seem like you have a lot of problems. If you really knew me then you would realize that you're my exact type. Why didn't you just talk to me?" You asked, looking into my eyes as you roughly pushed my jeans down. I was stunned, was this real life? You were just crying, refusing to kiss me back, and now you're trying to tell me that I should have asked for your number? "I'm assuming you're the reason that the creepy cashier ended up on the five o'clock news? He was beaten up pretty badly, Sam. You didn't have to do that for me." You told me and I still couldn't find the right words, that was months ago. He was going to hurt you, I heard him talk about it with his friends, I saved you. But you knew it was me? I should be the one asking why you didn't come up to me when you figured that one out, why you didn't thank me as soon as it happened. "Would that have happened to me too?"

"No, of course not. I'd never hurt you, Y/N," I told you, cupping your cheek and you rolled your eyes again, swatting my hand away.

"You didn't think that raping me would be painful? Or leave me scarred for life?" You scoffed and I shook my head in protest.

"No, I didn't want to hurt you like that, but you kept fighting, and- No, I'm not like that," I sighed, trying my best to come up with a reasonable explanation for you.

"But, you are like that, Sam," You counteracted me and I frowned. I was hoping you'd never see me that way, all I wanted was to show you how much I loved you.

"But, I didn't have to be that way. I mean, look at where we are-" I began to reexplain myself again, but you shook your head immediately.

"Don't you dare act like I asked for this. Don't do it. I'm making this better for me, not for you." You cut me off and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Is that really the way you see me? Is that the only reason you kissed me back and pushed my jeans down my thighs? "Don't look so sad. Take what you want and go." You told me, bitterness in your voice as you shoved your hand in my boxers. I couldn't help but let out a throaty groan when your soft hand wrapped around me, pumping me even though I was already fully hard for you. You never did this with anyone else, though. You always let them prepare themselves, I couldn't help but feel like I was special. I kissed you hard as you continued to twist me in all directions, masking my moans in your mouth as I could already feel myself getting close- but I wasn't going to cum, not yet. This was all about you.

I pushed you back lightly, following you with my mouth as your back hit the soft mattress. Your hand worked wonders as my lips trailed down your neck, sucking in your wonderful scent and even tasting the bitterness of your perfume. My hand reached your wrist, pulling you out of my boxers, and I rested it by your side. I kicked my jeans down my legs and onto the floor as I climbed off the bed. Pulling you by your thighs, I heard you gasp as I dragged you down to the edge of the bed. My hands worked hastily, guiding your black panties down your legs in one swift move and purposefully throwing them on top of my jeans- so I could keep them for memory's sake.

Then I looked back down at your naked body, your slick glistening in the dim lighting as I licked my lips. You were perfectly wet for me and I couldn't wait any longer to dive into your heat. My knees hit the carpet as I wrapped my hands around your thighs, holding you down and placing my tongue on you. Your back arched, your hands found their place in my hair, and small moans left your mouth as I drank all of the sweetness from your body. You tasted so much better than I could ever have imagined and your whimpers sounded heavenly, especially after knowing that I was causing them. Your clit was easy to find and I wrapped my lips around it, causing you to lift your thighs but I held them down for easier access. The sounds coming from your mouth combined with the noises coming from latching onto you was a deadly combination and motivated me even further to continue to try and burst the coil that I knew was growing in your stomach.

In all of my time watching those men take you, very few had the pleasure of tasting you- and when they did, they would go on for a minute or so before becoming selfish and getting ahead of themselves. Sex isn't a one-sided thing and I understand that, I want you to feel just as good as I will later on. I won't leave until I rip an orgasm from your body and I know you're getting close. I'm alternating from sucking and kitten licks on your sensitive sweet spot and you have yet to cease from moaning underneath me. Your moans are almost enough to make me come undone inside of my boxers, you sound so perfect. But maybe they just aren't as good as I am. Maybe I only need a minute to have you cumming in my mouth because your hands in my hair are gripping tighter, your thighs are getting harder to hold down, and you're screaming yes. You taste sweeter and more natural than honey and my mouth is making obscene noises as I try my best to coerce your first orgasm. I let go of your thighs, opting to hold onto your hips, and they wrap around my head. Your legs push me deeper into your core and it's getting harder to breathe but I don't care. My nose is just above your heat, my chin is deliciously soaked in you, and your legs are starting to shake against my ears.

Soon enough, you're screaming profanities and coming undone under my influence, but I won't stop until I work you through it. Your breathing is unsteady as you spill fresh juices onto my tongue and your hands attempt to push me away. Lapping up all of your climax and letting my taste buds soak in how good you taste, you begin to whine uncomfortably. I figure it's time to stop, so I flatten my tongue and start at your core- leading up until I feel you shudder underneath me when I hit your bundle of nerves. Your legs relax as I pull my face up, wiping my chin off on my forearm, and I smile- knowing that I'm going to smell like you by the time I leave.

"See, this isn't all about me, Y/N," I smirk, a little cockier than usual, and you give me a small and out-of-breath smile. "When was the last time you came because of a guy?" I asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"I- um, maybe a few months ago," You said breathlessly, your smile never fading from your lips.

"Four months ago. An asshole named Rich, but it was only because you were watching a sex scene on your TV, wasn't it?" I asked you, hovering over you and placing a kiss on your lips. You didn't care that you had just came in my mouth nor that I answered your question better than you did, you kissed me back hungrily and wrapped your hands around my neck. You even trailed my lips as I lifted up, whining when they disconnected, and I knew there was no way you didn't want me. You could put on a front and say that you didn't ask for it, and I might have believed you, but, ultimately, I would have known you were lying.

Your hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled a few feet back. I looked at you in confusion and you gave me an innocent smile as you climbed off of the bed. "You know I don't do this, right?" You asked, lowering onto your knees at my feet. I couldn't help but feel nervous when your hand wrapped around me, I've never seen you do this with anyone before. "Hm?" You asked again and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as you stroked my cock in your hands.

"I- I know," I told you, gulping eagerly, and watching as you wrapped your lips around me. A guttural moan escaped my throat at the sensation of your warm tongue circling around my tip, sucking lightly, and collecting all of the precum I produced just for you. I don't know what changed or made you decide to do this, but I didn't mind. I didn't even think about the possibility of feeling your lips wrapped around me- I never saw you do it with anyone else and I didn't get my hopes up. So, now, I'm here and you're sucking me down and I feel completely ill-prepared. It almost made me feel pathetic when I felt my climax bubbling too quickly and you had only been working me for thirty seconds, but with another fifteen I would be spilling into your mouth- I couldn't let that happen.

My hands entangled in your hair and pulled you off, your lips making a loud pop as they disconnect from my length. You gave me a shit-eating grin when I helped you stand up, knowing exactly how good you were. Maybe you never sucked their dicks because you didn't want them to cum before they got the chance to please you.

"You know what you didn't learn about me, Sammy?" You asked in a tone so close to a whisper as you grabbed me in your hand again. You gave me a nickname, don't think I take that lightly. My eyes looked down and back up into yours- which seemed so innocent and young it was hard to believe that your body count was so high. "I don't cum because they're not rough enough." You told me, hinting at your devious fantasies, making my urge to fuck your brains out ten times stronger. "Are you going to be able to help me with that or are you too eager already?" You asked with a cocky smirk, twisting your hand around me faster. The best part was knowing that you were taunting me on purpose- you wanted all of the power, you didn't want me to get the chance because you know the effects that you have on me. You wanted for me to cum in your hand, show you that I'm just like the rest of them. I know you, Y/N, and I'm not going to let you down no matter how low you think of me.

My head dipped down, ghosting your lips and taunting you like you were taunting me before I grabbed your arms and spun you around. You squealed when I pressed a firm hand on your back, keeping you down as I got prepared to make you wish you didn't ask for it rough. Then, I gave you no warning as I guided myself to your entrance, slamming myself fully into you.

"You forgot the condom," You whined as my legs hit the back of your thighs. If I ever wanted a chance to do this again, I knew I had to listen to you, so I pulled out. Reaching over you, I grabbed the foil on your bed and quickly ripped into the package. My big ass fingers had a hard time unrolling the lubricated rubber and putting it around my painfully hard cock. Just before I put it all the way on, I made sure to clip the end with my fingernails- leaving a small hole that you wouldn't be able to see me make anyways. "Thank you." You told me and I smiled, knowing you wouldn't be able to tell a difference anyway. If this one time happened to get you pregnant, it would be a blessing- there'd be no way for you to escape me.

Then, I decided to try again. I held myself in my hand, not particularly fond of the residue the condom left and nudged the tip of my cock at your entrance. I grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back on to me, only to slam into you which pushed you forward. You were so much tighter than I expected, so much warmer around me, and you sounded so good when you gasped. I took no time waiting to pull out and slam back into you again, the noise of the bed creaking mixing perfectly with your loud whimpers. Your cunt squeezed around my cock as I quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you at. I would be fully inside of you for less than a second before I would pull out and do it all again. One hand stayed on your hip while the other grabbed the back of your head, pulling your chest off of the bed and making your back arch. This position felt so much better and I knew that the new angle was sure to make the tip of my cock hit your g-spot with every thrust by the way you were moaning. You were whispering fuck under your breath every time my hips hit your ass, gripping the soft comforter under you for support.

I fucked into you fast and hard, just like you said you liked, and I silently thanked myself for jogging every day. My stamina was unmatched and I was able to keep the pace that had you screaming for more. I was surprised with myself for not cumming the second I entered you, but I needed for you to cum again before I did. The hand that rested on your hip moved to your clit, making your legs shake underneath me. You were close, you were screaming that you were close, and it all sounded like music to my ears. Your cunt dangerously clenched around me every time I pulled out like you were trying to milk me, but I knew it wasn't on purpose. I knew you were clenching around me because your climax was coming much faster than you could have imagined, it was just your body naturally responding to mine and I knew, now more than ever, that God made you for me.

Your palms grasped onto the blanket, making your knuckles turn white, as your body jolted forward with every thrust. "Fuck, Sam!" You screamed and I bent over to kiss at your neck, humming into you as I tried not to cum at the sound of my name leaving your lips. Your hand came down, pushing my fingers harder onto your clit and you moaned loudly as you came undone for the second time. Your legs were shaking erratically as you pulled my hand away from your core, squeezing my fingers tightly as you practically cried around me. You were holding my hand and it was sweaty, but it felt so good to hold you like this. I kept the pace up, fucking you hard throughout the entirety of your orgasm, using your sweet cries as inspiration for my own that was coming sooner than later. Pulling my lips away from your neck, I let go of your hair and grasped onto your hips again. I was grunting, moaning, and groaning as I fucked you faster than before. It wasn't hard to chase my release as your body collapsed onto the bed and I stilled in your cunt, fully inside of you as I felt my climax leave my body. Panting for breath, I stayed inside of you until my orgasm washed over me and I could barely see straight or hear your whimpers.

When I pulled out, I quickly took the condom off and got rid of the evidence, hoping to god that you wouldn't notice that my cum was slowly leaking out of your cunt- hopefully, you'd think it was your own. You rolled onto your back, panting, giving me a tired smile, and cupped your breasts because I assumed it was just comfortable. I hovered over you, placing one last kiss on your lips before I turned around and began to dress myself. Pulling my boxers up, I watched as you propped yourself on your elbows and you frowned at me.

"You're leaving?" You asked me and it made me stop in my tracks, isn't that what you wanted? You never let anyone else stay, even the guy that ended up making you cum, so why were you asking? "You decided you're going to stalk me for six months, give me the best sex of my life, and then leave?" You asked again, light laughter leaving your lips.

"You- you want me to stay?" I asked, uneasiness in my voice, as I prayed that you would say yes.

"If you promise not to murder me in my sleep, I'll even cook you breakfast," You said with a small smile plastered on your face.

[leahseclipse]

The Reichenbach Fall: Aftermath - Chapter One: Happy Death Anniversary, Detective.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (With some Fem mentions)

Warnings: S2 FINALE SHERLOCK SPOILERS, Major character death; death topic, mourning, suicide mentions, depression mentions... (lemme know if I missed stuff.)

Summary: Two years after the death of Sherlock, what could be next?

Word Count: 4.0K

A/N: Hey there! I've finally found the motivation to post my Sherlock fic here. If you prefer AO3, click here :)

++

Sherlock used to call at midnight, he never cared whether you were trying to sleep, or if you were actually sleeping- he’d just call.

Sometimes to complain that technology was futile given the multitude of defaults it contained (his phone, for example)- or to talk about an article in a newspaper, thinking we’d be interested in it.

It’s been two years since the last call. No one could bring themselves to delete his number since; and I understand the reason for it. We all had some hope inside us, it was small given all the time that went by, but it was there.

We all wondered if he wasn’t alive. Movies aren’t real, so the whole fake-death scenario couldn’t have been real but we all thought “why not?”, it could happen. That was over a year ago, but I still believed it, I wasn’t quite planning on giving up; and when my phone rang a bit after midnight, I still had a glimpse of hope, each time.

That glimpse was cut short when I read the caller ID. It was John. I did like him, he just wasn’t who I expected to see, but I picked up the phone, just to not be rude. Voicemail is awful. “John? What’s going on?”

"I...I don’t really know, actually. Guess I...needed to feel less alone. I don’t even know."

“Hold on.” I glanced at my bedside as I put the phone on speaker before sitting on the bed. "...so, you couldn’t sleep?"

"Yeah, I’ve been trying for an hour, certainly because of..." He stopped, hesitating with his words.

Who else other than Sherlock would it be, honestly. The man’s always been in our thoughts, and now that he’s gone, we have to be reminded that he’s stuck in our minds. The only way to hear him is through memories, and probably some of us are afraid to forget what he sounds like through time. He wasn’t the guy to make documentaries on him, film himself- hell, he rejected every interview he was offered. The only thing we have is pictures, which isn’t enough.

"It’s him, isn't it?" I presumed.

"Yeah, Sherlock." He confirmed. “It’s the anniversary of his death, in two weeks.”

See, that was the kind of thing I didn’t want to recall as it made me think of what I didn’t want to accept, but at the same time, if I stopped thinking about that, might as well forget Sherlock completely.

"It kept me awake too." I admitted.”I can’t believe it.”

No one really does, to be honest. We all wish that it could be fake, that’s what we would need, even if it’d hurt to see him while we mourned all this time.

"It still feels a bit weird without him, even after basically two years."

“It didn’t seem right without him, at first."

"It took us a bit to get used to it, and still...I think I didn’t get used to it fully to this day."

"Neither am I, John. I don't think I ever will. Time will make the pain less...painful, but it’ll never erase him, he'll be in our thoughts from the moment we wake up."

"I wish it was all a dream. I hate to wake up and not see him. He annoyed me sometimes but...he was my friend."

"He was annoying but a good friend, yeah.” I said, “It’s just...not right. Nothing is right. I feel like everything has gone cold. I swear that I haven't seen a single ray of sunshine."

"It's probably time fooling around, I don't know." He said.

"It could but, when he was there, there would be some sunny-ish days. I haven't seen one since. He left, and it's like he took the sun with him, John. The whole world is falling apart.”

"I felt that too, for a moment. But, I don't really trust whatever I think about these days. I don't pay much attention to whatever I do."

"You should be careful though, I don't need you to die because you didn't pay attention out there. And before you say anything, there's no joke in there. I mean it, Watson.”

"I wasn't going to say that, trust me."

"You better. I need you there."

"Same goes for me. You've been of great help since…"

"Yeah. Since." I paused. "It sucks."

"It does.” He agreed. “Well I...I’m gonna go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you all night.”

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry. It helped to talk. I could even stay a bit more, if you’re not planning on going back now.”

“Alright, then.”

++

It’s like the weather watched me plan the day, rain is on time. It couldn’t be more depressing on top of me dressed in black, but I just didn’t feel like coming in rainbow clothes would be appropriate, even if he wouldn’t care how I dressed anyway, even if he’s dead, yeah.

It feels weird to go, I always expected this was all a dream, or that it’d just...never happen. He’s the kind of person that outlives everyone, and Sherlock was this kind of person, he’s always been that person. He even used to say he’ll always be there, that he’d never leave, and now I guess we’ve both made mistakes, he’s not here anymore.

I never thought that would happen, I can’t tell how bad I prayed to whatever god to wake up, but that did nothing but make me a fool, nothing changed.

His apartment remained empty, as ours, he’d consider each house he could sleep at, his. I remember that he stayed at John’s for a week, before having to go back as John was “not entertaining” enough because he slept too much- As if we got to sleep all day.

He used to think everyone was like him, barely sleeping, barely tired, because I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity of seeing him elsewhere other than a room full of piles of papers.

He did sleep, but not at night, it was kind of like a cat, throughout the day, when possible. I always laughed about it along with John, and he never minded, he’d either pretend to not care, or join the conversation, and I already miss this kind of talks.

They’d either be incredibly short, or extremely long, you really had to clear your schedule for an hour or two when he’d talk. It’s not that it bothered me, it was more the others, those who didn’t know him. They’ve always found an amount of weirdness in him, which I had when I was like them, a stranger.

I never thought we’d get close, I didn’t even think anyone was close with him, he seemed quite the lonely guy, very private. Even after getting to know him, he remained quite private, as I thought, he wouldn’t share much, even with John and Mycroft; but, it didn’t matter that much, we still managed to have a great friendship, and I’ll always miss it.

Not any person will be like him, he was one of a kind. Not anyone could copy him without being seen as a fool. Sherlock Holmes was unique, he didn’t copy anyone to rise up, didn’t take anyone as a model, he did it all himself, he was a model himself.

He didn’t wish to be like anyone, it was the contrary, everyone wanted to be at his level, have the recognition he had, the fame, all the things that made him known, that made Sherlock be him. Even I won’t find a mentor like him, not any of them will be better, they’ll all seem ridiculous to me, even if they have more experience than him.

Nothing will be the same. This world won’t be the same without him being here, he’s gone now.

He took a big piece of whatever thing, when he left, and whatever thing he took was a big one, because it left us all empty. The kind of empty feeling that won’t quite go away, we’ve all been so used to having him around so much that it was a habit.

And now that he’s gone, nothing feels right, even living doesn’t feel right. It won’t ever feel right without him.

I almost feel guilty for being alive, I’m not as smart as him, I won’t contribute to anything. He was the smart one, we really lost an important person and I don’t think it wouldn’t have changed much if I had died instead, people would just be sad, I think.

It wouldn’t be that bad.

His death is bad to the point that the world he left behind can’t function as well as when he was alive. The whole puzzle is missing, hell, the whole world, if I go out of the metaphor.

...Sherlock would have been the corners of it, the foundations of it, what made it whole, what gave a start to get the rest of the puzzle.

He would have corrected me with hundreds of better metaphors if he could hear me, I really suck at this. He never did, though.

In fact, most of his talking contained metaphors, it was his signature, his day couldn’t feel right if he wouldn’t tell at least one.Now the whole ‘no day without a metaphor is a bad day’ is falling on us, and nothing or no one will make that feeling go away.

It’s strange, and funny that he managed to create all of those special feelings, memories, that we only felt with him. Sherlock’s had quite the special part in our lives. He changed our lives in such a spectacular way, and to be honest, life felt less depressing, even if our job is full of dead people and mysteries that make our sleep schedule non-existent, quite rare.

He made us forget all of that shit, whenever he could. That’s why I looked up to him, and thought about him so much. Whenever I had a problem, I’d call him first. Of course, I did call John, and Mycroft, but Sherlock was like my emergency contact, he’d always pick up, if possible.

Somehow, he always knew the answers to everything, and when he was clueless (which only happened twice, in five years)- he'd attempt to find something close to it, and even if his explanations didn’t solve anything, I didn’t care.

It probably made him sort of happy to explain it, share his big knowledge, so as long as he enjoyed himself, that was enough. I did hope he did enjoy himself, I never thought about asking and now that I think about it, I probably should have, it’s too late now.

If he can hear me, a sign would be great, probably. A good thing if he enjoyed talking, and a bad one if I annoyed him? It’d be nice to know even if he probably won’t answer, he must still be working; I know it.

He would be bored if he didn’t have his face in newspapers and whatever case. I always said Sherlock not to overwork, but he never listened. I hope he’s not doing it right now, that man was a total workaholic, right to his last breath, he never stopped.

I just hope he’s okay, wherever he is.

He deserves peace, enough things happened to him, he almost died a couple times, almost lost us if we hadn’t survived all of the wounds and things that happened, almost lost himself because of depression- all of these could have killed him.

He would have stayed alive, but he would have died inside, I just know it even if he didn’t show it much. But he did feel, he did have feelings.

I know he liked us a lot, even though he didn’t show it much; he did enjoy living even with all of the problems he had so, let’s hope he’s not in pain, stressing, suffering, whatever feeling that makes him feel bad.

You can take it easy now, we’re taking care of what you couldn’t finish for you, we’re taking care of the legacy you couldn’t pursue for you, we’ve got your back, Holmes. John, Mycroft, myself, and whatever person you know will tell you everything that happens so you don’t miss anything. You’ll be able to debate about the events, you won’t miss a single thing of what’s happening.

Even if I have my pride, and don’t want to admit I’m depressed about you being dead, I’ll tell you everything, I know you’d be here to tell me how to deal with the death of a person, the whole five stages of grief. You said them to me so much that I always have them in my head.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

I’d say that I’m at the last phase, but a lot of anger comes in it. I still wish it had been me, sometimes. It’s not fair it happened to Sherlock. I just hope he’s not too mad. If it had been someone else, he’d probably try to talk some sense into me, get me to tell more logical things.

If ghosts were real, I know he’d tell me to stop putting the blame on myself, even if I don’t even know why I blame myself, we don’t even know what caused him to jump from a damn building. And even if someone explains it, we won’t know if it’s real no matter how much they’ll prove it’s the truth.

The only person that can tell us that is gone.

So, unless we don’t find...a diary, or a note, proving it all, we won’t know.

The last thing we’ve heard from him was an apology, the ‘note’ he left behind was the call John received, which means the presumed note I mentioned doesn’t exist, only the call does.

After leaving his note, he fell from the roof and he died on impact, his pulse was long gone when he reached the floor, and it didn’t come back. I didn’t believe all of it happened, even when I heard John telling it, none of it seemed true...until I saw the death certificate.

The whole world stopped, and it still is frozen now. I wish the grave I’m standing in front of wasn’t real, I wish that my eyes were betraying me.

If only.

“Turns out you lied, Sherlock. You left.”

I hate you for what you did.

“You could have explained all of this a bit more. Even if I would have preferred not to, I would have prevented you from dying if you gave me a note...before.”

I wish I had known, I should have known. He didn’t have to die, he wasn’t supposed to die, certainly not like that.

Not now, that wasn’t his time. He was supposed to die of old age because of natural reasons, after all of us. Outlive us all.

Damn Sherlock Holmes wasn’t supposed to die at 35 years old. It's too young, too soon, Too much to bear.

“What am I supposed to do now, I mean- what are we all supposed to do? None of us can replace you, we’ll take twice the amount of time you barely took to resolve cases on our own, you left us in a really bad situation, you know that? It’s not going to be the same if you’re not here with us.”

And I miss you like a little kid.

“You could have made us take classes to become a close version of you, at least. I’m saying ‘close’ because no one will ever be like you. Not even that detective that had 30 years of experience, he wasn’t even close, really. I’d say he looked like a newbie, next to you.”

I even started to lose the habit of calling him when he’s not directly on the field and I hate this. I’ve only known him for a couple of years, and yet, he’s going to be ironed in my mind for a lifetime.

That man, I swear.

He didn’t think that sticking so close to us, getting to know us, sharing things about him would affect us so badly now that he’s gone. Real gone.

It hurts to say that, I wish I could just pretend he wasn’t gone, but that’s not really...healthy? It’s not really healthy in the way that if I pretend he’s still there- while he’s six feet under ground would drive me crazy, it’d completely destroy the whole ‘acceptance phase’ I’ve been working on. He’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.

That’s what my brain has to acknowledge, pretending he’s alive wouldn’t do any good.

Sometimes life gets to an end, and we have to accept that. I know that Sherlock, his brother and even John wouldn’t want to see me like this- ignoring reality, building a fake world to protect me from the real one.

Hurting sucks. Getting reminded that I won’t be seeing him anymore sucks, but everything sucks in life, and that’s what happens when you live. You can’t have a perfect happy life with all the shitty problems, that doesn’t exist.

But even if this sucks, I also get to remember all of the great things Sherlock has accomplished, the hundreds of memories we’ve made all together, whatever makes me happy- but there’s still a lot of hurt to go through before being able to think about them without crying because I miss them.

I wish that could be happening right now, I must have filled an entire bottle of water with all my tears. It’s even worse when that happens at 2am after you wake up from a dream about them.

Speaking of dreams, I don’t think I’ve ever had so many dreams with him compared to when he was alive. It’s as if he's haunting me, and even if I like him, I’d wish he wouldn’t do that so often, a little peace and quiet would be nice, even if I don’t want that to stop.

I’m afraid I’ll forget Sherlock if I stop thinking about him, block the memories to prevent me from the hurt that comes with it. I don’t want that to happen, he doesn’t deserve to have his legacy ignored because of my stupid feelings that hurt, he deserves to have his legacy remembered, discussed about, shared, not to have it trapped in newspapers, or in a corner of my head.

I like to imagine him being proud when I do that, even if I wouldn’t have known he was. He wasn’t the expressive kind, but he liked to show he was proud of you through a facial expression, a word, whatever could be ‘decrypted’. He wasn’t as cold as people saw him, he was extremely kind, even if he was broken in millions of pieces inside.

But yet, he overcame everything and came back even stronger. Every single time. He was amazing in so many ways, and that’s why I wish I could be like him.

So much.

I sighed, adjusting the grip I had on my umbrella, as I squatted down in front of his grave. “Did you know we went through your closet yesterday? There’s really not a lot, your clothes are so...similar. We can easily buy the same to be ‘like you’. But I don’t want to touch them, they’re kind of like precious pieces you can find in a museum.”

I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy because of that.

“And...yeah, we went through your place because we can’t bring ourselves to sell it, I don’t want someone else to live in there and ruin it with their own belongings. But at the same time, living in it would be weird, I don’t know. I can’t find an explanation, just that it’s weird, living in the apartment of a dead person. Kinda creepy.” I explained, looking up from my umbrella as I realized the rain had gone down, letting a few rays of a ‘somehow’ sun. “Look, the sun listened to me. It’s coming up so I can give my emotional speech full of hope.” I sighed. “I don’t...I don’t even know what to say anymore. Kind of ironic as I always have something to say.”

I actually kind of know, but I don’t want to say it.

He’s gone. No miracle will bring him back, but I’ve kept hearing John saying it, I heard him last time we came; and even though I can’t bring myself to say that, I want to so badly. That’s all I’ve been wanting to happen since you died, I don’t want anything else and I don’t care about love anymore even if you always wanted me to be happy.

You’re what made me happy, you were the definition of love. Maybe what I’ve been feeling was that but I never brought myself to admit it.

I have loved you since the first day, but you always said that whoever fell in love with you should find better as you considered yourself a forever loner, unable to feel and give love, but I know you were capable of it, if you had tried, I believed you could have done it.

“Look at me, in front of your grave, exposing the feelings I’ll never have the answer to, I don’t even know if you liked me back. You really took all your secrets to your grave, huh? What a selfish prick, you could’ve shared that, at least.” I complained.

I don’t think I’ve ever known someone that hid so much stuff, he really was a whole mystery to himself, that man.

We can’t even solve what caused you to commit suicide, we’ll probably never solve it. You were the only one that knew why, and yet he can’t just pull a miracle and live again for a few minutes as a zombie to explain. That would be of great help, even if I’d prefer he’d live again.

That’d be an awesome miracle, even better than what happens at Christmas.

“Can you do that for me, though?”

Just that, I won’t ask for anything else.

“Just one more miracle, Sherlock, for us.” I said, putting my hand on the polished surface. “...don't be dead.”

It’s too easy, you can’t be dead, Nothing can kill you. I know John, and a shit ton of people saw you fall, but...let me believe all of that isn’t true.

Just a fake accident, Do that for us. Please. We need you more than you can ever imagine, you were so important to us, you were family.

A reason to fight for, to live for.

“Don’t be, please.” I pleaded, as I got up from the ground. “I uh...I’ll be back whenever I can, okay? Work’s been crazy since you’re gone, it’s incredible. I don’t know if it’s because we don’t have your help, or because it’s always been like that.”

Probably a mix of the two, I don’t really know, it’s been complicated to think properly these days. Sherlock would be the one to help with that, usually.

“I’ll have to ask someone else, I guess.”

I still haven’t found this ‘someone else’, by the way, It’s been two years, I know. But I still haven’t found someone that can help me the way he used to.

He still remains unique after all this time.

“I’ll be on my way, then. You’re awfully quiet today, guess you’re not in the mood, so I’ll go.”

I wish I still didn’t have to say goodbye, but this is the only thing I can say when I leave.

The weather had even gotten better, as if it only rained to have a full dramatic effect, there was only wind, which didn’t seem to announce a storm, for now. The sound of the leaves being crushed by my feet as I walked was to be heard, as no other sounds were around, it was very quiet today.

The silence did feel weird, I never liked it.

Not when it caused me to think of…

“Got time to spare for me?”

...him.

“Sherlock.”

++

|Chapter Two|

[outoftimewriting]

Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

[lumaejin]

four | vier | 四

Bad Luck. New company. New luck. You’re getting a new manager. Finally. Your experiences with your last were... let’s say anything but pleasant, so you’re excited to have a new one. Well... only to find that good luck really doesn’t seem to like you.

➳ pairing: manager!seokjin x singer!reader

➳ genre: idol au, sm au, a tiny bit of angst?

➳ warnings: minor swearing

➳ word count: 1272

Seokjin hadn't shown up to work the next day either and you had the odd feeling that it was because of you. Sure, there wasn't a lot to be done in the office which couldn't be done from home, but you did find it weird that he hadn’t contacted you about any matters yet. When you asked around, you heard that Seokjin seldom ever worked from home. People seemed to assume that he must have injured himself in some way, which made it hard for him to come to his office. 

Of course, that was a possibility, but you were almost willing to bet that it wasn't the actual reason why he wasn't turning up. You did feel a lot of relief though... it meant that you could postpone meeting him for however long he decided to not come.

You didn't know why you were so scared, you just were. 

The two of you had agreed to pretend that you didn't know each other. It meant that the conversation was never going to get too awkward... after all, ‘I just met him’...right? However, you had this feeling… no, you knew, that Jin wasn’t going to keep it like that. It didn’t matter whether he did anyway… it wasn’t like just the sight of him would make all the good times play out in front of you, only for the flashbacks to end in your worst memories.

But Jin really seemed to be the only bad thing about this company. The staff was nice and so were the other artists. You'd met a few of them yesterday when some had come to welcome you. Yoongi had been among them, though he left immediately after saying ‘hi’. You didn’t take it personally however, knowing that Yoongi hated social gatherings. It reminded you of college, of Jin and Jimin dragging Hoseok and Yoongi along to parties, trying to get you to come as well. Heck, it even reminded you of secondary school. It made you remember that you had spent so much of your life by Jin’s side, whether it was as a friend or as his girlfriend. So much of it… At that moment, you really regretted ever starting anything. Maybe, if you had never gotten involved romantically, you would still be friends? You would have gotten over your silly crush, he would have at some point as well… right? Nothing would have been this complicated. 

Shaking your head to try and banish the thoughts, you looked through the lyrics jotted down on your notepad. You tried to focus on the words, but it was hard to clear your mind. You stared at the paper for a few minutes, until finally, the words started making sense. You immediately realised that something was wrong with them, it just didn’t… fit together? Maybe Namjoon would help you with it later? He always seemed to have a sense for these things. You stuffed the piece of paper into your bag, getting out another stack of paper. New schedules and dates... Great.

A knock sounded, making you remember that your producer was supposed to be stopping by to talk to you about some ideas for your new album. You stood up and walked past the small keyboard, the swivel chair spinning from the movement. 

"It's good that you're here-" you said, opening the door and taking out a piece of paper out of your pocket, "I need to run some-" 

You stopped, realising that it wasn't Wang standing in front of you. No, Wang wasn’t this tall and didn’t have hair this long. Wang was completely different.

Shit.

Your eyes widened and you froze immediately, your hand stopping in mid-air. Shit. Shit. Shit. You felt different emotions rushing through your body, leaving you confused. Why was there so much sadness amounting in the pit of your stomach? Why was your heart accelerating, and why the fuck did butterflies seem to float through your stomach as if the sadness didn’t exist? Why were you feeling so… torn? There were flashbacks of the past swirling through your mind, fogging it up and making everything seem unclear. 

"Sorry to disappoint," Jin said as if he hadn't just seen his ex for the first time in years, "Wang is still downstairs with Yoongi, but I think he was on his way to you.”

You closed your mouth, trying to regain your composure and clear your mind. You needed to forget about the past. This was not your ex. He would be your manager, that was all. You weren’t connected in any other way. 

“Ah… well should have known,” you said, forcing yourself to smile, “Anyway… is there something you needed?”

“Um… yeah,” Seokjin said, surprised by your sudden change of demeanour, though he quickly recovered from it, “We received a ton of requests to sponsor you. I’ve already taken out those companies which won’t fit your image or your schedule, just wanted to check which one you’d like the most out of these.”

“Oh… thanks,” you said, surprised by the amount of choice you’re getting. You had never been allowed to choose your sponsors before, resulting in you sometimes doing advertisements which you weren’t comfortable with at all. You had thought that it was part of the job, but apparently not, “I’ll get back to you later today.”

You placed the paper on the table, expecting Seokjin to leave. Expecting? No, you almost pleaded with god to make him turn around and close the door behind him. No luck.

“I know we said we were gonna forget about the past…” he said quietly, “But I really wanted to talk to you about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, dropping the fake smile which you had kept on and turned your back to Jin. You thought that this would show your standing pretty clearly, but apparently, it didn’t. 

“I know I’m not in the place to talk to you about anything,” Jin said, “I made a massive mistake and hurt you while doing so. I’m not going to find excuses for my behaviour… but I wanted to ask whether you’d let me at least try to partly apologise for the past.”

“I just want to forget about what happened. That would be enough of an apology,” you whispered, keeping your back turned even though you were itching to see his face. He knew how to control his emotions and expression, but you had always been able to see through that. You wanted to know how he really felt.

There was a long silence, in which you continued to stare at your desk, your monitor, the white wall, the books… anywhere but at him. 

“If that’s… If that’s what you really want,” Seokjin said, taking a deep breath. You guessed that it was hard for him to keep his emotions in check, “I’ll um… I’ll leave you to it.”

You didn’t say anything else as you heard the doors closing behind you, continuing to stare at the blank desk in front of you. Still, you couldn’t help but think back to a time where there had been a ‘we’, where it had seemed like the two of you were going to spend the rest of their lives together. You were caught in that state of bliss, only to be transported back immediately by the words that still haunted you till this day. Those last words. A tear rolled down your cheek, but you ignored it, getting back to the piece of paper Seokjin had given you. You looked through the different companies, only taking in half of what you were reading. 

➳ Full Story

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I’m kind of new to posting fics on tumblr, so I don’t have a taglist yet. If you want to be added however, simply ask in the comments or send me an ask :)

[gone4neow]

MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ

c h a p t e r o n e

- park chanyeol x oc

- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]

- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence

- work count : 3,457

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Working the cart at the street market was always a thrill. It wasn't that the job was particularly fun, but it was certainly never boring. Some customers were regulars who showed up weekly, but new customers came and went often. Some of the farmworkers loved working at the market simply because they adored the socialization that came with the job, but Eunyeong felt indifferent towards the job. It was nice to get off the farm and see what was going on in town, but sometimes the interactions with the townspeople really ruined the job for her. Elderly women judged her for not being at home with a family to take care of, younger women did little to hide their envy of her position, and men of all ages seemed to have a personal agenda to remind her that she was horrible for working a man's job. Ignoring these people had become a sort of second nature for her.

She had woken up that morning with dread in her bones. It was her turn to manage the cart at the market today. Her uncle had told her that if she could do this job two times a month then he would allow her to work on his farm. The prospect of having a job was enough to make her agree to any terms he had for her. At first, she was absolutely miserable after working in the market. It was difficult and it took a huge toll on her mental health after receiving harsh criticism all day long. There were multiple occasions where she had cried; the fear that she had been in over her head when seeking out a job haunted her. It was her father who had encouraged her to keep going. Though he didn't understand her extreme need to work alongside men, he hated to see her spirit so defeated.

"You are different, Eunyeong. This world isn't ready for a woman like you. If you let them bring you down now, then they will never be ready. If you want them to understand, you're going to have to make them understand. Push forward. Fight for what you want," he had told her weeks ago. "I believe in you. Now you have to believe in yourself."

She had taken his words to heart. He was right, just as he usually was. She adored her father. Though many saw the man as a stony figure with a hard exterior, she knew that his heart was soft and full of love. He was brave, compassionate, and cared deeply for those closest to him. If there was ever an idol figure in her life, it was him. Even when her mother scolded her for pursuing her personal goals, her father had been there ready to support her wholeheartedly. Because of this, she was eternally grateful.

When she had arrived at the marketplace, her hair was messy and her cheeks were flushed. She had arrived a few minutes late due to oversleeping. Her coworker looked over at her with a judgmental expression on his face before he tossed her a small bag to collect coins in. Relief flooded her chest when the old man turned from her without giving her a lecture about how she should be on time. For the next few hours business went as usual. She worked alongside her coworker in silence, only speaking to customers when spoken to. A gentle smile formed on her face every time she handed over a basket of vegetables, but the customers seem to be wary of her and never returned it. Things were going just fine - that is until a familiar man showed up. He came with three other men. Each had wide smiles on their faces. They were around fifteen years older than Piya was and had all grown up in the same village as she had.

"Eunyeong, it's so lovely to see you here," Howon greeted the woman in a smooth voice. His eyes bore into hers as if they were lasers, analyzing every detail of her soul.

Her stomach twisted, but she smiled a wide, fake smile. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Me?" The man questioned, raising his eyebrows. He hummed as if in deep thought. "I did come here with something very specific in mind today, but it seems I've already found it on my own."

"What would that be?" Eunyeong asked him, the smile on her face faltering. Her hands fumbled around as she pretended to organize the baskets sitting on the table in front of her. She only stopped when the man's right hand shot out and wrapped itself around her wrist. Her movements froze entirely.

"You," Howon said. A smirk formed on his face as his companions laughed behind him. The woman went to pull her arm away from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. She clenched her jaws out of anger. How dare this man?

"What's this?" Her coworker blurted out from beside her. She turned to look at the older man. He looked between her and Howon with confusion.

"Ah! It's nothing, old man. Return to your job," Howon brushed the man off in a patronizing tone. Eunyeong could see her coworker tense up at the man's words.

"Let go of her wrist. We both have jobs to do," He instructed Howon. The younger man scoffed and his grip grew even tighter around Eunyeong's wrist. The pain was nothing compared to the glimmer in the man's eyes. It was as if he was testing her, seeing how far he could push her before he would break her. So she stood taller, lifted her head, and looked at him with a stare that was even more chilling. His thin lips parted in surprise when her free hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. The grip around her wrist lessened as she forced hers tighter.

He hummed as if approving of her actions, but she could see the anger on his features. "What a bold woman you are."

The release of her wrist coaxed Eunyeong to pull her hands away from the man entirely. With one last smirk cast in her direction, the man turned and left the market booth. His followers turned and mirrored his movement.

Eunyeong risked a glance at her coworker, expecting him to be sending her scathing expression. Instead, the old man was staring off at the retreating group of men with a stoic expression on his face. When he finally looked to her, he said, "I'm going to have a talk with your uncle this evening. I'm going to request to share the same schedule as you."

The woman instantly grew nervous. She hadn't meant to cause a scene, but she could already feel that today had been the start of something unfortunate. Usually, her coworkers ignored Howon's behavior altogether, so she never had to worry about her uncle punishing her for any incidents occurring before.

"That's alright. I can manage on my own," she told the man. "It means a lot to me that you care, Jin-kyu, but please don't talk about what happened today with my uncle."

His eyes searched her face for a sign that she was downplaying the situation. He was sure that a young woman like Eunyeong must've been fearful of a hooligan such as the man he had just witnessed. Even after a few seconds had passed, he found no sign of fear. Of course, he was confused by this, but instead of arguing with the woman, he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement with her request. She released a breath of relief before she smiled a polite smile at the man. He gave a low grunt in response and then turned to continue doing his job.

It had been just before the sun began to set that the market began to close for the day. Eunyeong helped Jin-kyu lock up the farm's shop. They each carried a stick with two baskets full of excessive products hanging on the ends. In the royal areas of the country, they may have looked out of place. In the farming area of the country, they looked right at home. It was a common sight to see farmworkers struggling to carry such a weighted stick around on their shoulders. They walked alongside together along the gravel road. Their feet ached, but the pain they would feel later would be worth it. There was pride in working until your body ached. Not because it was fun to feel such pain, but because the pain seemed little when compared to the sight of their families enjoying a meal they had worked so hard to provide.

"Do you think that uncle's cow has gone into labor yet?" Eunyeong spoke up, breaking the silence that had embedded itself between the two farmworkers.

"Should have. Why? Looking forward to seeing the calf?" Jin-kyu responded. She could hear the teasing in his voice. Her mouth had just opened to reply when the old man next to her went crashing down onto the gravels beside her. Eunyeong gasped loudly, throwing the stick on her shoulders to the ground quickly. A figure raced her to Jin-kyu's body and before she could help the man to his feet, he was being turned over onto his back. A fist crashed against the old man's rough face. And then another. Eunyeong screamed out in anger. She kicked the old man's attacked away from his body. Jin-kyu looked up at her with wide eyes. His cheek was already beginning to bruise from the attack.

"Run Eunyeong," he spat out. When his attacker when to touch him again, the woman turned and lifted her discarded stick from the group. She turned and swung the wooden stick at the stranger's back as forcefully as she could manage. He howled with pain and covered the sound of the stick colliding against his figure. Taking advantage of the man's weakened state, she kicked him to the ground again before she rushed to help her coworker stand up. Together they ran towards the farm. Eunyeong held onto her stick as if her life depended on it. Every few seconds she would glance over her shoulder to see if the attacker was still following. He seemed to vanish completely after a few moments passed.

The woman was taken by surprise when she turned her head towards the direction of the farm. It had been so close, yet something was blocking her and Jin-kyu from reaching it. Three men stood in the middle of the pathway. She could recognize one as the previous attacker. Both she and her coworker came to a quick halt. Their chests rose and fell with short, quick breaths.

"Jin-kyu, what should we do?" Eunyeong breathed out. When she looked over at the man he was staring straight ahead with wide eyes. He was as clueless as she was. She grimaced at the realization. They were in trouble now. Her fingers wrapped themselves even tighter around the stick in her hand. If these men were looking for a fight then she would surely do her best to give them one.

The men suddenly raced towards her and the old man next to her. She swallowed nervously before she threw herself in front of Jin-kyu. When the first man reach her, she sent a forceful kick towards him. He grabbed her leg and held it as a blocking mechanism. Without his hands, he wasn't able to block the blow of the stick in the woman's hands. A vibrant ping echoed throughout the evening air as the stick clashed against the man's skull. He staggered backward, his hands flying up to hold his injured head. The woman quickly went to work with the other two men. She swung her stick towards them with confidence. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins as she did her best to defend both herself and Jim-kyu from the men. She was able to get one of the men in the eye with her stick. He cried out with surprise and stumbled into his companion, causing both of their balances to weaken.

Seeing an opportunity open up, she shot her foot out and wrapped it around the uninjured man's ankle before harshly jerking her foot. The man lost his balance completely and crashed to the ground. The other man still held onto his eye. Jin-kyu surprised the woman by swinging his fist at the attacker. The man's hand left his eye as he tried his best to catch his fall. He crashed onto the man who had just gone down seconds before him. The third man suddenly reappeared. He was strong this time, but his focus was no longer on the old man. Now he had a new mission: get rid of the stick in Eunyeong's hands. She fought against his tugs on the stick but ultimately lost her stick. Her eyes widened as a smug expression formed on his face. He snapped the wooden stick over his knee, something that should have been impossible.

"Howon sends a message. He wants you to know that he won't stand for your bold behavior," the man spoke in a deep voice. The other two men stood up soon after. The expression on their faces was less than pleased. The woman screamed in protest as the two men came behind her and held her arms behind her back.

"Eunyeong!" Jin-kyu gasped, stepping towards her. The third man decided at that moment to swing his arm towards the old man's face. Jin-kyu fell onto the ground. He crawled backward as his attacker took a step closer to him. Eunyeong struggled against the men's hold on her arms. Desperation was crawling up her arms and across her chest. If the man was too rough with Jin-kyu then he would kill him. She watched as the man pulled his fist back, ready to deliver yet another blow to the old man. Her eyes narrowed as she watched. Never before in her life had she felt so useless. The man moved his arm, but he wasn't able to land a punch. A blurry figure had tackled the attacker to the ground. Eunyeong could feel the men behind her move and her arms were free. She rushed to Jin-kyu's side and helped him back to his feet quickly. Instead of fighting, she decided to hold onto his hand and rush away from the scene and towards the farm.

She didn't spare a glance over her shoulder. Her heart was pounding and a light layer of sweat coated her skin. She didn't stop running, even when she and the old man had gone through the farm's entrance. Her feet only came to a stop when she had entered her uncle's office. He sat on the floor in front of a table with tea sitting on it. When he got a good look at the frantic pair in front of him, he shot up from his place on the floor.

"What's happened?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"A damned barbarian boy from the market sent his monkeys to attack us!" Jin-kyu growled out. Eunyeong's eyes widened as she looked over the old man.

"Why would he do that?" Her uncle questioned. She looked over at the middle-aged man. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked between her and her fellow farm worker.

Jin-kyu pulled his wrist away from Eunyeong's grasp. She hadn't even noticed that she was still holding onto the man. "He's infatuated with her. Showed up at the market earlier today and tried running over her like some big man. Must've gotten mad that she stood her ground."

Eunyeong's uncle looked her in the eyes. She could see the shock swimming in his dark irises. "Is this true?"

"Jin-kyu has never been a liar," she breathed out.

"If there's trouble like this happening because of you, girl, then I refuse to allow you to work on my farm any longer." Her uncle told her with a stern voice.

"Uncle, it isn't my fault-"

"I don't give a damn whose fault it is!" The man roared, cutting off her words before she could finish speaking. Her eyes widened at the man's outburst. She had never been spoken to by him in such a manner.

"Sir, she didn't mean to cause any trouble. It was the man's fault," Jin-kyu came to her defense. "She works hard."

Her uncle stared at her a few seconds longer before he turned to face the wall behind him. His hand raised to rest on his hips as he scoffed with disbelief. He stayed this way for a minute or so before he suddenly turned and pointed a finger at his niece.

"Let's go. I'll walk you home tonight. It's too dangerous for you to be on your own," he told her.

The tense woman turned to look at her coworker and bowed. "Please get some rest tonight. I am sorry for causing you trouble."

The man didn't say a word to her. She briefly met his eyes before she slipped out into the evening air. Her uncle followed closely behind her. There was a tense silence between the two as they walked through the farm fields and towards her home. She could see her mother's figure on the porch, watching as the two approached from the distance. When they finally arrived, her mother took one look at her and began clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"You look filthy child," the woman scolded her. Eunyeong could only look down at her dirty hands with shame. How would she face her father after causing such a disturbance for the farm? It was only a matter of seconds before her uncle would begin explaining why she would no longer be permitted to work.

"Where is my brother?" The man beside her asked. She almost winced at his tone. Her mother's eyes grew bigger at the sound. They averted from her uncle's face and fell onto Eunyeong.

"He's inside. His leg is hurting him more than usual today," Eunyeong's mother explained. "What's wrong?"

The man glanced down at his niece. She could feel his eyes on her. Shame was burning her skin. "I need to speak to him for a moment."

The young woman watched as her mother stepped aside, giving her uncle complete access to the entrance of the house. He did not hesitate in walking inside.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," Eunyeong spoke slowly. Her head was bowed with shame. "Uncle is going to forbid me from working on the farm any longer."

She heard her mother draw in a deep breath. For a moment she thought this was due to surprise brought on by the news. She was corrected when her mother sighed and said, "It was only a matter of time. Women are not meant to be farmworkers."

Her mother's words were more painful than her uncle's had been even when he was yelling at her. Her shoulders dropped while her eyes quickly glossed over with tears. Knowing that she had let down her family was the worst feeling she had ever felt. A blade in her heart would have been less painful than the feeling she experienced at that moment. Footsteps approached the entrance of the house. Her uncle was already departing? She couldn't look up. She didn't want him to see her shameful expression or the tears in her eyes. The feeling of his eyes on her felt like the sun's rays on the hottest summer day. The air in her lungs got stuck in her throat. The man didn't say a word to her, but bid good night to her mother. He bowed and then he left.

Her mother didn't waste another second outside. She listened as the woman retreated into their home and when she knew the woman was gone completely she dropped to her knees. Her head raised so that her eyes could take in the evening sky. Silent curses left her parted lips as her hands swatted away stray tears. The universe had given her an opportunity to prove herself worthy and she had failed to do that. It hurt to know that even her best was not enough.

"I won't give up," she whispered to the empty sky. It was a promise to both herself and the universe that tonight's events wouldn't hold her back from pursuing her goals. She would show her parents that she could do it. She would continue to put food on the table for them. Nothing, not even a foolish man like Howon, could stop her.

[grapehyunshair]

Infidelity pt.3 // JJH

It has been 6 months since you walked out of the house and to say those months have been hard would be an understatement. Trying to forget Jaehyun was harder than you thought it would be, seeing as his face was literally everywhere around you. At first you couldn't bear hanging out with the other boys as well and you had stopped picking up their calls or answering their messages. That was until Mark and Hyuck almost broke down your door one day and demanded to "get your ass up and hang out with them". Ever since that day you have become much closer with those two than you ever were, both of them making sure that they never mentioned Jaehyun's name around you. The older members made sure to check up on you as well. Taeyong and Doyoung regularly swung by and made food for you, Johnny and Taeil took you out on walks, Ten had dance parties with you, while Jungwoo, Sicheng and Yuta took you shopping at least once a week because according to them you needed to up your dating game. That's how you found yourself getting ready for a date one Saturday night with one of Johnny's friends who was visiting from Chicago for a week. You really didn't want to go, claiming that it was pointless since he would be leaving either way, yet Johnny insisted that you at least try seeing what going on a date would be like considering that you hadn't really gone on many dates before dating Jaehyun. So with that thought in mind you hesitantly agreed and now you were regretting everything because you were really, really nervous. You walked to the restaurant you would be meeting Minhyuk (YES IM IMAGINING MINHYUK FROM MONSTA X FITE ME) -Johnny's friend- thinking that some fresh air would make you losen up a little bit and it did; it really did until you reached your destination and saw him waiting for you. You had to admit he was very handsome and you wished in this moment you could get Jaehyun out of your brain and give this guy a proper chance so that's what you tried to do. You approached him with a smile and said a small hi.

This is a happy ending version bc many of u guys asked for it uwuwu I'll write an alternative angsty ending in a while ily guys

"Oh, you must be Y/N. You're even more beautiful than Johnny described." He grinned and gave you a hug, making you blush in return and hug him back. He had a beautiful smile, with one small dimple popping up making him look adorable. "Shall we go in? I hope you're hungry." He said gesturing the door.

"Yeah, I'm actually starving." You laughed. He chuckled and held the door for you, so you could get in. You walked in and both of your jaws dropped in shock. The restaurant, Johnny's pick, was fancier than you had ever been, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, gourmet plates on each table, while the floor was made from marble, gold details decorating every corner. And that would be fine you see, if Johnny had actually told you where you guys would be going but no, he kept it to himself and let you both be completely underdressed for the situation.

"Um, Minhyuk, I don't think we're very fitting for this place." You said, nervously, while glancing at him.

He turned to look at you and said a small, "Hey, wanna get out of here?" to which you smiled and said, "I though you'd never ask."

So this is how you ended up at McDonald's, sitting in a corner booth, eating chicken nuggets and fries, laughing your hearts out at little stories you both shared with each other.

"I can't believe they actually did that." Minhyuk said, choking up from laughter.

"Honestly, it's Johnny and Taeil, what would you expect?" you replied, raising your eyebrow at that, while popping a fry in your mouth.

"You're right, I should know better." He agreed, "Hey I'll go get myself another milkshake so I can dip my fries, want one?"

"Nah, I think I'm full, I should probably stop eating." you said and he laughed getting up and going towards the cashier. Your eyes followed his back and you couldn't help but the small sad smile that creeped up your lips. You were having so much fun, but you know that you couldn't offer him anything other than friendship at this point and you knew he knew as well. You could tell by the way he didn't try anything with you, something you appreciated a lot. You sighed and your mind drifted back to Jaehyun as you wondered what he was doing. You suddenly heard familiar voices making your eyes go wide and your heartbeat increase. One was Johnny's and the other one was no other than Jaehyun's. At first they didn't notice you sitting a few feet away from them, until they reached the cashier and saw Minhyuk waiting on the line. Johnny's eyes went as wide as yours and he quickly scanned the place to see if you were there as well, freezing when he saw you looking at them. Jaehyun alarmed at his friend's reaction, looked at the direction of what made Johnny white as a ghost and mirrored his expression when he saw you sitting there. He looked bad. Really bad. His face looked like he had aged at least five years, black circles decorating his beautiful eyes. His appearance was dissevered, almost as if he hadn't left the house in days. He reminded you of yourself, when you were alone in your house, dealing with your thoughts. Could it be..?

Minhyuk seeing the whole situation, quickly greeted the boys and skipped towards you in attempt to get you out of the place as fast as he could. To be honest, he really liked you and had fun with you, besides knowing that your heart belonged to Jaehyun still. And he was okay with that, he would cherish your friendship a lot if you were willing to give this to him. Johnny had filled him in with the information earlier, so he knew that you being in this situation right now would not be good for you, that's why when he reached you he took your hand, pulled you on your feet, asking you if you were okay softly.

"Can we get out of here please?" You croaked out, voice too weak to be heard.

"Yes, yes of course." He said and took your bag, guiding you out. You hadn't even walked two steps out of the door when you heard your name being called out. You froze and pretended that you hadn't heard anything, while you kept walking.

"He's calling for you." Minhyuk said, trying to keep up with you, a task that was kinda difficult considering it had started snowing while you were inside. That wouldn't stop you though, because your desire to be away from Jaehyun right now was bigger than any difficulty you were facing.

"I know. I just can't face him right now. I'm so sorry for ruining this night." You said apologetically, looking at the ground.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching for your elbow with his hand and stopping you from walking away, "you didn't ruin anything. I think it would be good for you to talk to him though, see what he wants. I know you still love him Y/N, you will always love him." He said, kissing your head and ruffling your hair. This action, gave Jaehyun the time to reach you guys, panting, nose and ears red as a tomato.

"You should talk to her, however if I hear you are causing trouble I won't hesitate to step in." Minhyuk said sternly, giving Jaehyun a threatening pat on the back, while he went to sit on a bench nearby were Johnny was looking at the scene unfold.

"Hi." Jaehyun said, hesitantly, "How have you been?"

"Good. You?" You replied curtly.

"I'm okay, I guess. I don't even know." He said, fiddling with the ring on his fingers. The ring you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.

"Y-you're still wearing that?" You said, in disbelief. To anyone that passed the street, the scene probably looked romantic. A young couple, that tried to shrug off the nerves of the first date probably, but the truth was far worse than that. You could feel yourself breaking the walls that you build once again and you hated that. You hated how he could barge into your life at any point and take your heart by storm.

"Yeah. I am." He said, scratching the back of his neck. "I see you're dating again. I hope he makes you happy." He said, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice.

"Me? Oh no. Minhyuk and I are just friends. He's leaving in a few days either way." You said, shrugging. Jaehyun looked almost relieved at that, leaving you very confused.

"Hey, can we go sit down for a while?" He said pointing at a bench under some cherry blossoms a few feet away. "I need to say something."

"I don't know Jaehyun. There isn't really anything to say." You said, not being completely sure of your feelings at the exact moment.

"Please. 5 minutes. That's all I ask." He said, desperately, his eyes looking for your eyes, in attempt to convince you. And he did, so you sighed and said a soft okay.

You walked to the bench in silence and you took a seat as far away from him as you could. Ah, stupid Y/N that was a bad idea. You could smell his perfume, a smell you missed incredibly much, giving you a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You both stayed silent for a while, unable to find words to say to each other until Jaehyun broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing Y/N. Everything was so much at the time. The practices, the hectic schedule, the fact that I almost never saw you. I thought I didn't love you anymore, when in face I never stopped. I just missed you and instead of thinking about it, I acted carelessly." He said and you turned around to face him, not believing what you were being told.

"You missed me? You still loved me? Then why Jaehyun? Why go and fuck around?" You said, the anger of the past coming back up. "I missed you too, yet I stayed faithful to you."

"I know. I know you did. I know I'm an asshole and that I don't deserve you. I'm not trying to take the blame off myself, I know I'm the only one to blame. I just was so lost. I felt that I wasn't good enough for anything. I wasn't good enough for you. I took my own insecurities on you and hurt you. But you were, and are, the only person who knows me better than I know myself. I was ashamed of my thoughts and I knew that you could see right through me. So I distanced myself from you, at first, to keep this image of myself hidden from you. At least until I could stop being like that. And then I missed your love and affection, and that was when I started looking for it elsewhere. And it was never the same, but I was so confused that I was okay with it. I didn't even notice when I became that person. I'm- I'm so sorry." He said, his voice breaking, tears rolling down his cheeks.

You were in no better condition. You didn't even notice when you had started crying, both from sadness and love for the boy in front of you. You instinctively reached out for Jaehyun's hand, the warmth feeling familiar, calming you down a bit.

"Jae.. I really don't know what to say. Nor what to do. I tried so hard to forget you Jaehyun. I really did. And I can't do that and it breaks my heart. But I don't know what I should do about that, I don't know what would be best." You said, your thumb caressing his palm.

Jaehyun looked at you and placed his palm on the side of your head, you leaning your head to rest on it.

"I love you. I never stopped. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me and I'll respect that, but if you could give me a second chance I promise you, you won't regret it." He pleaded, getting closer to you. You knew you should have gotten up and walked away. You knew those beautiful eyes had the power to hurt you again and leave you more broken than before, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to move from your spot. Truth was, you missed Jaehyun so much. There hasn't been a day those past 6 months, when you didn't think of him. Your love for him was so big that you were willing to risk your sanity just so you could wake up next to him one more day, as stupid as that made you look.

"I want to Jae. You have no idea how much I've missed you. But I don't know if I can trust you again. It's going to be very hard and I don't know if it will be worth it in the end." You said, letting go of his hand and placing it on your lap.

"We'll take it slow. We'll take it as slow as you want to take it. I'll do anything to make you trust me again. Just, please. Please be mine again. I miss the way you look every morning with your hair tangled up and your cheeks muffled in the pillow. I miss the way you scrunch your little nose when you are confused. I miss the way you make fun of me when I have my "practice" face on. I miss your smell. I miss the way taste of strawberries from your chapstick when I kiss you. I miss you. Please." He said and you started crying all over again. God, you needed to get a grip of your emotions smh.

"Are you willing to wait for me? Wait till I can trust you again?" You said, with a small sigh.

"I'm willing to wait fifty years if that means you'll be mine again." He said caressing your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"Okay then. I hope you don't make me regret it." You said, trying to smile through the tears.

"You won't. In fact, let's start all over again." He said and got up. "Hi, I'm Jaehyun, is this seat taken?" He said and gestured next to you.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. No, it's not you can seat here." You said laughing. Jaehyun grinned, his dimples full on display, while he took your hand, pulling you up towards him, while he hugged you, spinning you in circles, the snow falling all around you.

In the distance, Johnny smiled at the sight, hoping that none of you would break each other's hearts again.

[absinthc-blog]

(  kim  seokjin,  cismale,  he/him,  26.  )  —  CHOI  MINWOO,  better  known  to  the  authorities  as  PROMETHEUS,  has  been  working  for  the  kumiho  for  around  SEVEN  YEARS  as  a  COORDINATOR.  rumor  has  it,  they  can  be  ADAPTABLE  &  CONCILIATORY  but  also  HAUGHTY  &  MATERIALISTIC  which  is  why  crystal  champagne  flutes,  black  cards,  cigar  smoke,  and  tailored  suits  makes  me  think  of  them. 

okay  first  and  foremost  i  want  to  say  a  genuine  THANK  YOU  to  each  and  every  one  of you  for  showing  interest  in  this  group  !  truly,  it's  been my  baby  for  a  while  now  &  i'm  so  glad  i  was  able  to  (  with  help  from  ness,  obviously  )  bring  it  back  for  all  of  us  to  enjoy !  words  can't  express how  grateful  i  am  for  all  of  you  &  for  the  out  pour  of  love  and  support  we've  received  for  kumiho  !  now...  onto  the  usual  intro  stuff  !

hello,  i'm  gem,  i'm  21+,  i  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns  and  i  live  in  the  cst  timezone  !  i  absolutely  love  pain,  angst  &  ruining  my  characters  lives.  i  also  tend  to  use  memes  all  the  time  so  if  we're  talking..  just  prepare  for  memeage.  also  a  fun  fact  that  literally  know  one  asked  for  but  i'm  giving  it  to  you  anyways:  i  cried  the  first  time  i  ever  saw  a  corgi  in  real  life  &  proceeded  to  run  across  a  busy  street  to  be  able  to  pet  it  !  okay  now  for  real,  onto  the things  you're  really  here  for  !

this  dude  right  here  is  minwoo,  he's  a  tiny  bit  of  a  trashy  mess  but  honestly  i  can't  seem  to  play  characters  that  aren't  a  mess  ?  his  backstory  is  still  a  work  in  progress,  but  below  the  cut  is  basic  stats  /  bullet  proof  bio  /  personality  traits  /  basic  wanted  plots  &  a  few  more  random  things  !

if  you'd  like  to  plot,  feel  free  to  add  me  on  discord  (  𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾 𝕆𝕆𝔽.#9330 ),  im  me  or  SMASH  that  little  heart  button  &  i'll  come  to  you  !

                                 GENERAL  INFORMATION.

full  name:  choi  minwoo. nickname(s): min,  woo,  minnie. date  of  birth:  tbd. age:  twenty-five. nationality:  korean. spoken  languages:  korean,  english,  chinese,  japanese,  thai,  french,  spanish,  german  &  russian. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he / him / his. sexuality:  bisexual. faceclaim:  kim seokjin  (  jin  )  of  bts. BACKGROUND. hometown:  daegu,  south  korea. current  residence:  seoul,  south  korea. financial  status:  upper  class. occupation:  coordinator. family  connections:  tbd.

                                       EXTRA  INFORMATION.

myers  briggs:  entp-a. (  the  debater.  ) enneagram:  seven.  (  the  enthusiast.  ) temperament:  choleric. moral  aligment: neutral evil. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. sin:  gluttony. virtue:  pride. zodiac:  tbd. element:  fire.

                                                BIOGRAPHY.

born  and  raised  in  daegu,  south  korea.

parents  were  both  incredibly  well  known.  one  being  a  lawyer,  one  being  a  ceo  of  a  multi-million  dollar  corporation.

they  weren't  around  a  lot  due  to  how  busy  their  schedule  was,  so  minwoo  was  mostly  raised  by  the  nannies  /  maids  that  were  always  around.

there  was  a  tiny  bit  of  resentment  that  minwoo  held  towards  his  parents  for  never  being  around  that  he'd  take  that  out  on  the  nannies,  so  much  so  they  had  a  hard  time  keeping  a  full-time  nanny  hired.  they'd  constantly  quit  their  jobs  due  to  how  minwoo  treated  them.

after  a  while,  though,  the  choi's  were  able  to  find  one  nanny  in  particular  that  didn't  take  minwoo's  attitude  personally  &  didn't  allow  it  to  effect  their  job.  in  fact,  they  started  to  reprimand  min  for  the  way  he  was  acting  out.

at  first,  of  course,  minwoo  didn't  take  well  to  that  at  all.  he  got  more  angry,  started  getting  more  of  an  attitude.  but  after  a  while,  he  grew  tired  of  it..  finally  breaking  down  &  it  was  then  that  the  nanny  figured  out  why  he  was  lashing  out  at  every  person  that  happened  to  be  doing  the  job  his  parents  were  supposed  to  be.

minwoo  started  to  calm  down  after  that  day,  finally  starting  to  realize  that  it  wasn't  the  nannies  fault  that  his  parents  were  always  working  and  couldn't  be  around  to  raise  him  like  he  really  wanted  them  to  be.

it  was  then  that  his  grades  started  to  get  better,  attitude  improving  almost  completely.  sure,  there  were  days  where  it  still  got  to  him,  but  for  the  most  part  he  stopped  taking  it  out  on  everyone  but  the  people  actually responsible  for  the  way  he  felt.

his  school  days  after  that  went  really  well,  acing  all  of  his  classes  and  staying  at  the  top  of  his  grade  the  entire  time.  things  got  different  around  high  school,  though.  his  parents  started  breathing  down  his  neck  about  either  becoming  a  ceo  or  a  lawyer.

neither  of  those  things  is  actually  what  minwoo  wanted  to  do,  fully  unsure  of  what  he  wanted  to  do  with  his  life.  but  he  didn't  want  to  let  either  of  them  down,  so  in  his  free time  he  ended  up  studying  for  both  things.

completely  letting  his  'free'  time  go  in  order  to  please  both  of  his  parents  caused  him  to  start  building  up  his  aggression  &  resentment  once  more.

he  couldn't  take  it  for  much  longer,  his  parents  constantly  yelling  at  him  to  get  his  shit  together  caused  him  to  hate  school,  hate  studying  for  both  things  that  he  doesn't  want  to  do...

so  one  day,  he  snapped.  his  father  bursting  through  his  room  as  he  was  taking  a  break  only  to  start  yelling  &  instead  of  falling  back  into  line,  minwoo  got  up  &  got  in  his  father's  face  and  began  yelling  back.  telling  his  father  that  what  his  parents  wanted  him  to  do  wasn't  what  he  wanted  at  all.

his  father  didn't  take  too  kindly  to  that,  basically  telling  minwoo  that  if  he  didn't  want  to  do  either  of  the  things  his  parents  wanted  him  to  do,  he  could  move  out  and  deal  with  life  on  his  own.

to  prove  a  point,  that's  exactly  what  minwoo  did,  moving  into  his  aunt's  house  as  he  finished  high  school,  finding  multiple  part-time  job  that'd  pay  the  bills  he  needed  to  pay  as  well  giving  his  aunt  some  for  rent  just  because  she  willingly  let  him  in.

those  were  also  something  he  didn't  want  to  do,  but  he  did  them  anyways  just  to  be  able  to  have  some  sort  of  income.

after  he  graduated  high  school,  he  had  tons  of  colleges  that  wanted  him  to  join  them  just  because  of  how  good  his  grades  were,  but  that  also  didn't  seem  to  be  something  he  wanted  to  do.

he  declined  each  and  every  one  of  them  with  little  to  no  regret,  his  aunt  supporting  the  decision  even  though  she  wanted  to  see  him  do  something  better  with  his  life.

those  words  stuck  with  him  as  he  finally  moved  out  of  her  home  &  into  a  small apartment,  busting  his  ass  to  constantly  be  able  to  pay  bills.

it  wasn't  until  he  met  someone  at  the  bar  he  worked  at  that  his  life  started  to  take  a  turn  for  the  better.  the  mastermind  happened  to  frequent  the  place  he  worked,  always  giving  minwoo  a  hard  time  about  doing  better  things  with  his  life, only  for  minwoo  to  brush  it  off.

but  one  night,  min  finally  got  curious,  asking  the  mastermind  what  that  meant.  that's  when  the  offer  to  join  the  kumiho  was  set  in  place.  the  mastermind  had  seen  how  determined  minwoo was,  overheard  min  talking  about  the  four  shitty  jobs  he  had  to  work  in  order  'survive'  just  because  he  didn't  want  to  even  touch  the  money  his  parents  constantly  kept  sending  him  just  out  of  spite.

minwoo  actually  started  out  in  the  kumiho  as  a  runner,  getting  things  that  the  crew  needed  &  hiding  in  plain  sight.

however,  the  second  that  the  mastermind  found  out  about  minwoo's  studies,  they  were  quick  to  suggest  something  more,  explaining  the  difficulties  of  being  a  coordinator  &  explaining  why  they  thought  minwoo  would  be  perfect  for  the  job.

minwoo  was  skeptical  at  first,  though  it  only  took  a  few  days  of  debating  with  himself  before  he  agreed  &  ever  since  then,  he's  done  his  best.  he  wanted  to  make  sure  that  the  mastermind  was  proud  of  the  choice  they'd  made.

                                            PERSONALITY.

most  of  the  time,  minwoo  seems  pretty  cocky  &  sarcastic.

can  be  extremely  blunt  when  it  comes  to  certain  things,  even  if  his  words  might  happen  to  hurt  someone  else.

extremely  selfish  for  the  most  part,  always  looks  out  for  himself  before  he  looks  out  for  others...  but  he  does  still  care  about  others,  even  though  he  barely  shows  it.

also  loves  to  "one  up"  others,  it's  the  competitive  side  of  him  but  he  usually  does  so  in  a  playful  /  teasing  way.

he's  deep  down  really  goofy  &  loves  to  have  fun.  loves  to  explore  &  goof  off  whenever  possible.

has  the  tendency  to  hate  commitment,  so  whenever  feelings  start  getting  involved,  his  knee-jerk  reaction  is  to  run  &  avoid  it  at  all  cost.

is  one  of  those  people  who  pretends  to  hate  everything  &  be  really  serious  but  will  dance  around  his  room  in  his  boxers  when  he  thinks  no  one  can  see  him.

a  very  two-sided  person  but  not  in  a  way  that  could  be  seen  as  fake..  he's  just  got  a  very  serious  side  of  him  vs  the  goofy,  fun  loving  one  that  doesn't  get  to  be  seen  as  often.

extremely  serious  when  it  comes  to  his  job,  though.  will  call  people  out  on  the  smallest  of  mistakes  if  he  thinks  it'll  effect  any  of  the  heists.  he  really  has  no  issue  with  confrontation  &  will  do  so  if  he  thinks  it's  needed.

absolutely  loves  to  cook,  picked  that  up  when  he  was  living  with  his  aunt.  he  started  cooking  dinner  and  meals  so  that  his  aunt  didn't  have  to  whenever  she  got  home.

also  a  tiny  a  bit  neat  freak  so  he  gets  a  tiny  bit  stressed  out  whenever  headquarters  is  a little  bit  messy  and  will  either  just  clean  up  the  messes  or  get  snippy  with  everyone  until  he  figures  out  who  did  it.

loves  fashion,  constantly  is  seen  going  to  fashion  shows  to  try  and  keep  up  with  the  latest  trends  &  constantly  is  buying  clothes  &  accessories.

also  loves  cars,  will  buy  the  latest  and  greatest  models  of  each  and  every  sports  car  that  comes  out.

his  'socialite'  side  comes  out  the  most  during  events  where  he's  around  a  bunch of  people,  creating  new  ties  with  whoever  he  can  knowing  connections  like  those will  help  him  gain  new  followers  &  things  like  that.

known  for  modeling  &  his  instagram  /  social  media  posts,  gaining  a  following  just  because  of  his  'ootd'  posts  as  well  as  the  snapchat  videos  he  posts  about  his  daily  life.

                                                  PLOT  IDEAS.

bad  influence.  (  on  your  muse.  )

best  friends.

brotp.

confidant.

current  hook  up(s).

drinking  /  party  buddies.

drunken  hook  up.

enemies  that  used  to  be  friends.

exes  who  ended  on  bad  terms.

flirtationship.

will  they  /  won’t  they.

friends  with  benefits.

good  influence.  (  on  minwoo.  )

hate  sex.

one  night  stand(s).  (  past  &  present.  )

partner  in  crime.

past  hook  up(s).

ride  or  die.

trouble  makers.

unlikely  friends.