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coco-loco-nut · 26 days

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Look for the Light

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You are Oscar’s best friend, but when you get sick, how is he going to cope

TW: cancer, death, grief

You will probably cry, I did while writing it at 3am

Based off of the song from Only Murders in the Building

requests are open! masterlist

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Being Oscar’s best friend was the best thing you had achieved in your life, and you made sure the both of you knew it. You grew up a few houses from each other and from the moment you both met, you were inseparable. Spending your childhood on the beach, playing and having adventures of a lifetime. He never minded going to explore with you, especially the lighthouses, they fascinated you. The silent call, the notion of looking for safety, looking for the light. Oscar adored that about you, it’s why he always wanted to spend time with his best friend.

That didn’t stop when Oscar started karting, in fact, you were his number one supporter. As his career took off, he never missed a chance to hang out with you, nor you with him. Some of his friends back home throughout the years teased him about your relationship, but both of you knew that there was nothing more to it other than the tight knit bond, once that was more akin to siblings than romantic.

It was one early fall weekend that you both were on the beach, near your favorite lighthouse when you collapsed. It shifted your worlds forever. Oscar became more reserved and you spent more and more time in the hospital for treatments.

It was cancer, caught early and quickly curable, plus, you were young and healthy, at least that’s what the doctor said. That’s what you all thought. The doctor was right, at least the first time.

You stopped going to his races, falling out of the racing world’s eye, but the bond between you was stronger than ever, especially as his career took off even more. When you ended up in treatment for the second time, he was even more determined to spend time with you. Even now, he sits by your bedside watching a race. He looks at you closely, your skin losing some color and the adventurous spark dimmed in your eyes.

“I love you, Y/n. I’m scared, I can’t lose you,” Oscar admits one day. You both knew what he meant. You are basically his sister.

“Os, it’s ok. I am too, but we gotta be brave,” you choke a little, tears welling in your eyes. The spark in your eyes has all but dimmed out, you find it harder to get through each day.

Oscar is getting his first real shot at F1, but he doesn’t want to miss a moment with his best friend, the one who he has vet every girl he’s dated, because if anyone knows him best, it’s you. The one person he can keep private from his public life, he can hide your pain and suffering from his crazy world.

“It’s not fair,” his eyes well up. The air is thick, the looming darkness has been settling in, the both of you don’t want to acknowledge the truth of it.

“Oscar,” your frail hand grabs his. “I love you, you are my brother, my closest friend, and I am incredibly grateful that you are in my life. Now, adventure is calling, so go and be brave,” you give him your best smile, not wanting to waste his F1 Australia debut, in Melbourne nonetheless, worrying.

“Y/n, I’ll wait by the shore for you,” he says, and you squeeze his had tighter.

“My love is a lighthouse, look for the light,” you whisper. He glances at the clock and with a heavy heart leaves the room to go to the track. Socials think that he is just going charity visits this week since he is home, but the man is so reserved even Lando can’t get him to talk. He calls every night, and you demand to have the races on while you write in your notebook.

Your family is in the room with you, you had taken a turn for the worse overnight but you didn’t want to worry Oscar, not when the race in Melbourne was today, not when you knew what it meant to him. You finished the poem you were writing as there were ten laps left, the strength to write leaving you.

Your mom tried not to cry as she took the notebook and pen from you, your dad slipping beside you in the bed, holding onto his baby. Your mom called Oscar’s mom, who immediately picked up, knowing what the mid-race call meant.

“It’s time. She wrote to Oscar, and I don’t think she will make it past his media right after the race,” your mom chokes out, tears flowing as she hangs up and gets on the other side of you.

“Look Mom! Oscar is in the points, he made it to P8,” you smile at her weakly, your dad filming your reaction to Oscar crossing the line, but he quickly stops it when your monitor blinks irregularly. A nurse rushes in, having talked with you and your family about this moment earlier in the morning. She pushes medicine so you will be able to step into the light without pain, without suffering.

“It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Tell Oscar I love him, and thank you for every moment. I love you both, thank you for choosing me as your child and loving me forever. I will love you beyond my last breath. Look for the light. Will you sing the song to me?” You ask your mom, tears streaming down your face with a small smile.

“Hush little one, let me sing you to sleep. Moonlight has come so drift off to a dream. Sail from the day to the wonders awaiting you out there, in the deep. Off little one, chase the wind on the wave, adventure is calling so go and be brave. But if you get lost as your tossed in the dark of the sea, look for me,” your mom sings the haunting lullaby, watching your breathing slow. On the TV, the camera pans to Oscar celebrating with his team. Your eyes glimmer with happiness for the last time.

“No, baby, no,” your mom pleads, your dad pulls you tighter into him. With the last bit of energy you can muster, you squeeze their hands as your eyes close and a shuttering breath leaves your body. The screams of a mother can be heard over the flatline. The nurse unplugs your machine as another makes a phone call to Oscar’s mom, something you asked a while ago privately, knowing your parents would be too distraught. The nurses follow your wishes with heavy hearts.

———

Oscar gets back to his driver’s room with a large smile on his face, having just celebrated with the team and gone through media. The first thing he sees is his Mom’s tear stained cheeks and he drops his helmet.

“No,” he whispers.

“She’s gone, Os,” his mom cries, pulling him into a hug. His body wracks with sobs. Lando sees the two and quickly leaves, having intended on congratulating his teammate, but now going to inform the team that Oscar won’t be doing press. Lando wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew it had to be personal and that was enough.

“She’s not gone, she’s not,” Oscar says after a minute. His mom wipes a tear off and looks at him with a mix of pity, sorrow, and compassion. “NO,” Oscar yells, his grief taking over, he slumps on the couch, sobbing more. The light house trinket you gifted him years ago sits on a table, a glint of sun shining off the top, as if to provide a comfort, a goodbye.

“I’m sorry. She asked me not to talk you it got worse last night. Her mom called during the race to let me know,” his mom says gently a few minutes later. Social media buzzes as pictures of Oscar’s tear stained face as he left the paddock spreads and speculation grows, but he stays silent.

The funeral is quick, small, near the beach that is home to your favorite lighthouse. It’s more of a memorial, your family having chosen to go with a closed casket burial because you didn’t want to be remembered in that state. So here Oscar is, outside Cape Otway, sitting on a rock, your unopened letter in his hand. It’s two pages, and he hasn’t had the strength to open the folded pages. He looks at the sunset, it’s rays washing over him. The ocean seems to tell him to open the letters.

Oscar,

Words cannot describe how proud I am of you. My best friend achieved his dream, what more can I ask for? More time? No. It’s odd, writing a letter about my own death. I can only assume how you feel. I’m sorry that I left you, but I never truly did. I’m in the light, I went peacefully and painlessly, surrounded by love. The sunset you see, the stars shining on you, a ray of sunshine bouncing off of something, that’s me. Don’t wait forever by the shore for me, you don’t need to weather each storm, standing by until I return. I will always be with you. Don’t be afraid to grieve, share my light wherever you go, keep me with you and alive in spirit. I love you, my best friend and brother.

Your lighthouse, beyond my last breath,

Y/n

Oscar moves your letter behind the next, his eyes looking at the poem, this one’s writing significantly harder to read. Your weak state evident in the messy lines, but it’s perfect to him.

Os- I finished the lullaby, find comfort in it when you miss me. Look for the light

Hush, little one, let me sing you to sleep

Moonlight has come, now, drift off to a dream

Sail from the day to the wonders awaiting you out there

In the deep

Off little one, chase the wind on the waves

Adventure is calling, so go and be brave

But if you get lost as you're tossed in the dark of the sea

Look for me

I will wait at the shore for you

I will weather each storm standing by 'til

Safe, you return from the night

My love is a lighthouse

So look for the light

The light

I will wait at the shore for you

I will weather each storm standing by 'til

Safe, you return from the night

My love is a lighthouse

So look for the light

The light

Oscar sniffles, carefully pocketing the papers. He pulls out his phone and watches the video he hasn’t dared to open until now, the one your father sent to him, a smile gracing his face as he sees you cheer as he crosses the line, but it drops as he hears the beeping before the video cuts. He looks up at the lighthouse for a minute, taking a picture for his personal memorial, before returning home. He changes his helmets to include a lighthouse, refusing to put one on that doesn’t.

The drivers and the McLaren team notice a shift in the driver when he appears in Baku. Lando takes it upon himself to try and get information from Oscar but fails. Instead Oscar turns to Pierre, Mick, and Charles.

“Her name was Y/n, she was my best friend, my sister. She died shortly after I crossed the finish line in Melbourne,” tears sting the young drivers eyes as he lays out his grief to the two drivers who know his pain better than anyone. Mick encourages Oscar to share the good, not the illness. It isn’t much, but the driver’s spirit has lifted a little bit, and the four agree to share their grief with each other more often, finding a healthy outlet with each other.

Lando only praised his teammate for his strength when asked about that Melbourne day, and reiterated that private matters were just that, private. Shortly after talking with the other three, Oscar sat Lando, Andrea Stella, and Zak down and let them know the basics of what happened.

“I’m sorry man, I didn’t even know you had someone that close to you,” Lando put a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar looks at the sunset with a sad smile.

“It’s ok, she’s here,” Oscar says, a hand over the lighthouse on his helmet.

oscarpiastri 2 April 2023 • I will wait by the shore for you, look for the light

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#oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #you will cry #i sobbed #why did i make this #writing at 3am should be illegal

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theshippirate22 · 1 year

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listen st4 ROBBED us of so so so much, but really I think the the biggest travesty is the fact that we never got platonic Harringham. Like, of course, platonic Stobin is so perfect in every way- i worship it really- and i don’t mean to minimize that AT ALL but like.

Steve and Chrissy absolutely LOSING THEIR SHIT at a football game.

Steve and Chrissy having a crush on the same baseball player and arguing over which pants his ass looks better in.

Steve and Chrissy giving each other the same ??? look when Robin or Eddie say something nerdy.

Steve and Chrissy going to the gym together and losing track of whose basketball shorts are whose.

Steve and Chrissy bonding over the fact that their mothers hate them.

Steve teaching Chrissy to cook and slowly helping her get over her eating disorder.

Steve and Chrissy sharing tips for sore muscles and collapsing on the couch together with bags of frozen peas and corn after going a little too hard.

Steve and Chrissy going for runs at dawn together and getting back long before Robin or Eddie would ever dream of being awake.

Steve and Chrissy throwing the biggest super bowl party ever and screaming and grabbing each other’s arms every time there’s a touchdown.

Steve, who’s been having migraines since his first concussion, helping Chrissy out, who’s started getting headaches since Vecna fucked with her head.

Chrissy offering to drive Lucas to and from basketball because she’s going to the school for cheer anyway, and it’s one less thing he has to worry about.

Steve and Chrissy sitting in on a DnD game, getting bored a few hours in and going out to the driveway to play Horse (Chrissy has never won- she wants the challenge so she never lets Steve go easy on her and he respects her enough not to)

Steve and Chrissy side-eyeing each other when someone has the AUDACITY to say they like the Colts, knowing full well that they’re going to have to dish on the person the second they get in the car (They know the Colts are Indiana’s team. The Steelers are just… better.)

Steve protecting Chrissy from creepy ex-boyfriends who just want to take advantage of her, and Chrissy protecting Steve from creepy ex-girlfriends who just want to take advantage of him.

Chrissy convincing Steve to get back into swim, and him agreeing as long as she gets back into dance.

Chrissy wearing her whole cheer uniform to his meets and sitting on the edge of the bleachers every time he’s in the pool, palms sweating as he flies through the water- Robin and Eddie went to go get McDonald’s an hour ago- eyes darting from his silhouette to the clock and back again, muttering under her breathe, “Come on, Steve, come on!”

Chrissy screaming when he wins, running to the edge of the pool to grab him, even though he’s soaking wet and she spent so long on her hair and “Holy shit, you did amazing!”

Steve making his own sort of cheer uniform to wear to her competitions, always driving her to them so he can hype her up in the car on the way. Calling “You’re a god, you can crush ‘em with your thighs!” as they split up so she can go to the dressing rooms backstage.

Steve leaping to his feet in the audience to clap the second she’s finished, whether it’s a team dance or a solo, or a duo-She’s the only one worth watching- whistling and cheering for her so loud, it would be a phenomenon if she didn’t hear him.

idk

just let Steve have another bisexual jock bestie who won’t make fun of his interests. Who knows how much he wants this, who knows how hard it is.

idk.

#can you tell i’m sick of steve getting bullied #like oh my god leave him alone #let him watch the game of fetch for gods sakes it’s the least you can do #reblog with your own headcanons please i want to see what i missed #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #chrissy deserved better #buckingham #robin x chrissy #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #platonic harringham

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dreamauri · 4 days

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed.

“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!”

Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk.

“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way.

“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”

The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.

“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!”

“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.

He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.

Just two people . . . being people.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.”

It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.

You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.

Surely people make close friends online all the time.

You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.

“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were.

Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . . not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.

“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”

“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,”

“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone.

“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!”

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.

Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt.

Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend?

“You do know what my job is, right, La?”

“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is.

Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey um, million?”

“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own.

“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out.

“Yeah?”

“Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,”

The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!”

“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.

“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you.

“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.

Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.

“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest.

“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.

He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.

It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’

“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.

proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3

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merbear25 · 2 months

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Long awaited rest

The sheets had been rustled from your aggitated turning; their coolness long since faded under your body heat. As the moon changed its position in the sky, you refrained from checking the time—that would only make the sought after rest more unattainable. Lying on your back, you wondered how much longer it'd be until he joined you.

Sanji, Zoro, Corazon

CW: SFW, fluff, established relationship, gn!reader

Sanji: He'd been up late trying to perfect a new recipe he'd been on the brink of completing. After success had finally graced him, the clock taunted him with the amount hours of his life he'd spent. His eyes were droopy, dark circles were teasing his soft glow: the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

Stumbling into your shared room, his body practically gave way, letting itself flop down next to you. With him face down, his breaths were drawn out as his body was swallowed by the much needed comfort.

You curled up next to him, letting your finger tips trace up and down his back. He didn't stir: only a twitch at the side of his mouth indicated his knowledge of your gentleness. A hushed groan came from him as he rolled his body against your hand, unaware of how much he'd been desperate for your affection.

You rubbed his back being mindful not to massage too deeply and wake him. Leaving light kisses on his shoulder, cheek and forehead, your heart warmed at his dreamlike gratitude, affectionately murmuring about how much he loved you.

Snuggling up to him, you only kept a light hand on his arm, giving room for tosses or turns that may ensue. With him finding his way back to your side, your body was able to dose off, as well.

When the light of the new day shined into your room, its soft rays were casted on the both of you: curled up in each other's embrace and still fast asleep.

Zoro: Having come dangerously close to losing his previous battle, iradicating the imperfections that'd rusted his techniques was a must. Getting lost in his self-analyzation, losing track of time: consequences that were both small prices to pay for growth. However, his body was telling him that its limits had been reached and sleep was inevitable.

Exasperated from the unavoidable limitations, he let up for the night and shuffled off to bed. When opening the door, he noticed you were still awake, despite you not even turning to face him. There was a notable difference between the calmness of your sleeping person when compared to a simply relaxed state—the way your chest rose and fell was a dead giveaway.

Crawling in next to you, he asked why you were still awake. Turning over to face him, you admitted that some nights were just harder to fall alseep without him than others.

Taking a moment to think to himself, he scooched closer you. He patted his chest, signaling for you to lay your head upon it, to which of course you were more than happy to oblige.

Hearing his heartbeat soothed parts you didn't realize needed mending. The tranquility of your embrace offered its services, easing your tired bodies to sleep.

He was the first to wake the following morning: you were still sound asleep against his chest, your hair was ruffled ever so slightly. The peace shown on your face charmed him into placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Corazon: There was still so much to do, yet never enough time to do it. The stress and anxiety of the encounters to come weren't eating away at him though; he was resilient and determined to complete his purpose. That being said, even the heros who work within the shadows need their sleep.

Trying his best not to disturb you, he attempted to ease the door open. You were always sweet, but when you slept, you had a certain tenderness to you, one which alleviated all the woes weighing on his heart.

Getting into bed, he couldn't ignore his need to hold you. When you felt his arm drapping over you, you looked up at him and asked if everything was alright.

Kissing your temple, he assured you that everything was fine, while adding in an apology to having woken you up. Hearing this, you informed that you hadn't been able to sleep.

Cozying up closer to you, he ran his thumb over the top of your hand and asked the reason for it. Fearing you might add to his already worried mind, you simply answered that it was just one of those nights.

You stayed awake for a little while longer, talking to each other, barely above a whisper until you slipped into your dreams.

You were the first to wake up to the dawn of the new day. He had shifted onto his back and was still in a deep sleep. Wanting to enjoy the early morning by his side, you hung your arm over his and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, kissing the top of his shoulder.

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

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Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes

Summary: In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop.

AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

Shout-out to @p3mybeloved who isn't in the TGM fandom, but is the inspiration for this fic ♥️♥️

Part two is up! As is part 3!

It hadn’t been just a long day. It had been a long week.

And it was only Tuesday.

You were exhausted from working after hours to meet critical deadlines. If Barbara from admin found one more thing to nitpick, you were going to lose it.

So you decided to get coffee. Could you have made some at home? Absolutely. But you needed something, just a little something to make your morning brighter. Something that would remind you there was some good in the world and help you get through the first two hours of your day.

Instead of hitting snooze on your alarm clock five times, you got up after hitting it twice. You even remembered to apply deodorant and swipe on mascara. You left five minutes before your alarm to leave went off. Five whole minutes. You were on track to get coffee and get to work in plenty of time. Things were going well.

Too well.

You should have known something was about to fuck up your day when you saw the perfect parking spot. When the hell did that even happen? Never, you should have just gone to the back of the lot.

Foolishly, you started making your way towards the spot, thinking of all the things you could do with the extra minutes you would receive from your soon to be princess parking.

Your car and body lurched forward as you slammed on the brakes in order to not run into the white Jeep Wrangler that sped out from around the corner.

The heart palpitations you were experiencing from the sudden, potentially life saving decision descended into anger as you watched the speed demon take not just your desired parking spot, but also the one right next to it due to parking at an angle.

You gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed through your body. Instead of an elderly lady who just shouldn’t be driving, a tall blonde man dressed in some type of military uniform got out of the car. He didn’t even check his horrendous excuse of a parking job, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world.

What a fucking asshole.

Normally you’d just find another spot and try to move on.

Not today. Because today was supposed to be a good day and you had done everything in your power to ensure it would start off on the right foot and this douchecanoe just ruined it.

So you found a nearby parking spot, walked over to the eyesore of a car and waited. All the rage and anger built up into you, thinking about his horrendous parking job, as well as the bullshit of your job.

You didn't even wait for him to say anything before tearing into him. The fact he was blonde and conventionally attractive added to your anger because of course a real life Ken doll would think it's okay to park like that.

"Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"

"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.

"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”

He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”

Whether it was the Texan drawl that dripped through his voice or how he expected you to fall to your knees by revealing this information, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, so you can fly million dollar planes but can’t park without taking up two spaces?” You remarked. He seemed to be taken aback by your comment, which gave you the motivation to keep going.

“First off, who the hell drives through a parking lot at forty-five miles an hour?! There are kids-well teenagers-who walk through here! I know your car is obnoxious as your personality, but not all of us get an adrenaline thrill from having to slam on their fucking breaks so they don’t crash into you.”

You didn’t notice how his emerald eyes were wide and staring right at you. You were on a roll.

“In fact, you probably wouldn’t have had to park so offensively if you had fucking slowed down. Or, you could have had a shred of decency and repark. Don’t they teach that in the military? To have honor or some shit? Or were you too busy doing bicep curls at the gym that day?”

It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his chiseled face, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m trying, but your eyes are super distracting, has anyone ever told you that?”

It took your brain several seconds to process what he just said. Then you had to take another ten seconds to process that he wasn’t being cocky or a smartass when he said it. He was being genuine.

What the actual fuck?

—---------------------------------------------

Jake Seresin woke up this morning, like any other day. He got up early so he could get coffee off base. The Starbucks they had on base was always overcrowded and bitter. Plus, it was nice to get off base for a little bit, get away from things and have a sense of normalcy.

He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.

Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.

But it was kinda perfect.

You were stunning, even though you assumed he was in the army, of all things (he’d let that one slide, you’ll learn eventually).

The passion in your eyes as you pointed out exactly what was wrong with his parking job was admirable, alluring, even enticing.

Jake couldn't lie, he'd thought you'd be impressed or at the very least, taken aback by his rank.

Instead, you steamrolled right past it, continuing to list what he had done wrong, taking stabs at him along the way.

It was hot.

You were making valid points. He didn't have to drive that fast, it wasn't like he was late.

But it was also extremely difficult to focus on what you were saying when those big bright eyes of yours were burning into him.

How could he focus on anything else?

So he was honest and told you so.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.

That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.

"I have no problem darlin'. In fact, I'm pretty great. Got a matcha latte and have just met the most stunning girl in the world," he flashed that blindingly white smile, ready for you to ask for his number.

"You parked like that for a matcha latte? You couldn't have made me slam on my breaks for something that doesn't taste like dirt?" You spat.

Huh, normally that line worked. The fact it didn't was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking.

Jake honestly found it borderline erotic.

"I didn't realize I had met a parking and coffee expert," He preened, that award winning smile remaining on his face. He was curious, what could get you flustered?

You swore you could see red.

Oh, he was trying. Trying to knock you off balance. Trying to see if he could rattle you. It fueled you.

"I'm not an expert, it's called being a decent human being with common sense, you knockoff Ken doll." The lovesick look on his handsome face remained. If he was a cartoon, hearts would appear over his head.

Oh, you were perfect.

Outright asking for your number wouldn't work. Compliments were going right over your head. He had to change tactics.

He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."

Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.

Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."

When you started ripping into him, you weren't exactly sure what to expect. Most likely an argument that would end with middle fingers thrown in the air as you both walked away.

Not him asking you out.

"You want me to continue yelling at you about your inability to park over dinner?" You asked. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he experienced from flying planes had affected his ability to think. Perhaps folks should study the effects his job had on the brain. Not that Congress would allow it (couldn't interfere with recruitment).

That stupidly white smile remained on his face, "I was also hoping I could learn more about you too."

Hesitation filled you. The officer (or whatever his rank was) was being genuine. His compliments didn't feel forced. It was just odd that after being yelled at for nearly ten minutes, the conclusion he came to was that he wanted to go on a date with you.

"Buy me coffee first." You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as an attempt to come across as intimidating, despite how much taller the soldier was compared to you.

A smile broke out onto his face. Not a cocky one, but one that was soft and sweet.

It was almost endearing. Almost.

"Anything for you darlin'," he declared, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm Jake by the way."

You didn't expect him to go through with it. Nor did you expect him to jog ahead so he could hold the door open for you.

A warm feeling began to flutter in your stomach, until you remembered his heinous parking skills. That warm sensation would transform into a quiet, bubbling rage.

"Hangman? The fuck kind of name is that?" You asked upon hearing him say it to the barista.

"It's my callsign darlin'," he explained, like it was the most obvious and sensible thing in the world.

"First off, my name is not darlin, I just told you it two minutes ago. Second, you are way too smug to be telling me how your callsign is after a children's recess game, Officer." You ignored the confused stare of the barista who handed you your drink.

"I didn't get it from the game and it's Lieutenant," he corrected, his voice the sharpest it had been since talking to you.

A nerve had been struck. Or so you thought.

You leaned forward, your cardigan brushing against the khaki shirt he wore.

"Learn how to park properly and maybe then I'll get your rank right, officer." You were quite proud of yourself for that one, considering he was actually silent for a few moments.

Meanwhile, Jake was doing everything in his power to not sport an erection in the middle of the coffee shop. Because holy shit, you were hot. It was ridiculous how your smirk almost made his knees buckle.

He wondered if you'd prefer an early summer or fall wedding. He had always envisioned getting married in late May. But the rust colored cardigan you had on perfectly complimented your complexion. You'd probably looked great in mustard too. But those colors were more appropriate for a fall wedding and not-

"Cat got your tongue? Or does the navy have their own expression?" Your voice broke Jake out of his thoughts.

He just smiled, shaking his head, "Just got distracted by how pretty you are. Gonna tell you now, I don't know if I'll be able to focus on parking standards during our date tonight. Might need a second one for review."

You rolled your eyes, "It's not a date it's…. actually I don't know what you call it when you are teaching a grown ass man how to properly park over dinner-"

"It's a date." The barista called out before turning around to work on the other orders. Heat rushed to your face as Jake slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar.

"Whatever" you fumbled to get your phone out, pulling up a new contact, "just give me your number so I can text you the address of the restaurant."

He quirked an eyebrow, "You're picking the place?"

"You can't drive for shit and out of all the types of tea lattes you could drink, you go with matcha," you leaned in to look at the sticker on his cup, "with skim milk. The federal government may trust you with their jets, but like hell I'm gonna trust you to pick a restaurant."

Oh, he was definitely going to marry you. In his head, he already tried out pairing your first name with Seresin and it sounded heavenly.

He just grinned, his emerald eyes shining and you really wished he'd stopped doing that.

The scent of cedar wood flooded your nostrils as he leaned in, his face much closer to yours than it had been so far. Was he bending his knees to be at eye level with you?

Focus, you told yourself. He can't park for shit and got zero sweetener in his drink. Who the hell does that?

"I look forward to showing you on our date that I have great taste, as well as many talents that will have you overlooking my parking skills," his voice was low, dripping with a pathetic attempt of seduction that made you want to bang your head against the counter of the coffee bar.

"Type your phone number in before I throw my drink at you. I don't care if I get fined with 'defacing government property'." You all but shoved your phone into his chest, earning a chuckle from him that sent more heat to your body than rage.

"Anything for you, Venus." Did the obnoxiously bright smile ever go away?

"Y'know, you could have a really strong legal case for what all the lack of oxygen has done to your brain, like not being able to remember my name."

Jake shook his head, "Oh, I remember your name. Venus suits you better. Hottest planet, looks great in rust," he motioned to your cardigan, "Goddess of love and beauty. It's quite fitting for you."

This guy was unreal. The grip you had around your drink tightened, your bottom lip pushing forward to form an annoyed pout.

"I look forward to our date tonight, Venus," He said as he handed you back your phone, his long fingers brushing against yours.

Your eyes couldn't roll harder, "I look forward to serving my country by teaching you how to properly park, Hangnail."

"It's Hangman."

Now it was your turn to smirk, "Nah, Hangnail suits you better," your voice dropped, mocking his southern accent.

With that, you left the coffee shop. You had to, otherwise you were going to throw your drink at him.

You missed the downright lovesick smile that adorned Jake Sersin's face as he watched you walk out.

"Thanks for helping me meet my future wife y'all," He said to the very confused baristas.

"She looked like she wanted to murder you," one commented.

Jake laughed, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'll win her over."

As you got in your car, a vibration from your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, a message from an unknown number flashing on your screen.

Looking forward to our date tonight. Can't wait for your lesson Venus ;)

Oh that bastard. When the hell did he have time to send himself a text to get your number?

You shook your head despite the fact he couldn't see you.

A loud horn made you jump. You looked up from your phone to see the living embodiment of a Ken doll in his car that was now in the middle of the parking lot, right across from your car.

He waved. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.

Instead, you rolled down your window.

"What the fuck are you doing?! You're going to block traffic!" You yelled.

"Text me your address Venus! I'll pick you up at seven!" He winked, driving away as he ignored your comment.

At least he wasn't speeding through the parking lot this time.

Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Doubtful. Probably not.

On the way back to base, Jake wondered if you'd prefer a silver or gold band for your engagement ring.

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

@spidervee @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @xbamboowishesx @rae-gar-targaryen @theharddeck @abibliophobiaa @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @princessphilly

#my writing #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x you #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #hangman fic

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guccifrog · 21 days

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SHE🧸💸 part2

chris sturniolo × f! reader the muwapgucci collab 🌺🍑 : in which matt and chris sturniolo are just two unexperienced losers @muwapsturniolo

Now Playing 🌺🍑

[she- tyler the creator, frank ocean] 0:26 ———♡——— 3:50 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

"ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃˡᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵘʳᵇᵃᵗᵉ"

Chris was sure he was losing his mind. he was so obsessed with her, that he thought it was gonna be a one-time thing. but he couldn't get her out of his head. Almost every night for the past week he'd sit in front of his computer, refreshing her channel, waiting for her to go live. and when she did, it was like a drug. he couldn't look away. she had this way of making him feel things he'd never felt before.

When she spoke, it was like she was speaking directly to him. Like she could see right through him. And the way she moved...oh god, the way she moved. What had started out as a harmless curiosity had quickly become an unhealthy obsession. Chris knew he had to stop, but he couldn't bring himself to click away from her channel. He found himself spending more and more time online, losing track of the hours as he watched her.

The worst part was that he had to act like she didn't even exist when every time he saw her in school. He'd be walking down the hall, head down, shoulders slumped, trying to avoid any eye contact with her. But it was impossible. Every time he'd see her from the corner of his eye, he'd feel his heart skip a beat. And then she'd be gone, just another face in the crowd. It was torture.

"Chris?" his eyes flickered open to meet his brother's concerned gaze. "are you okay dude ?" he asked, placing his backpack down on the floor. "You look like shit."

"Yeah..." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I've just been...busy." It was a lie, but he couldn't bring himself to tell his brother the truth. The truth was too shameful, too pathetic.

Matt raised his eyebrows but decided not to press the issue. He knew something was wrong with his brother, he could see it in his eyes, but he also knew Chris wouldn't talk about it.

Chris sighed, resting his head against his palm, as Matt made his way to the back of the classroom. The bell had just rung, signaling the start of another mundane chemistry lesson. As always, his attention was elsewhere. He glanced up at the clock, willing the minutes to pass quicker.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her, her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes seemed to pierce right through him, making his heart race. He felt a familiar heat rise up in his chest as he watched her sit down at her desk, just a few rows ahead of him.

His eyes darted back to the clock, willing it to slow down as he watched her every move. The way she settled into her seat, her graceful hands folding neatly on top of her desk, made his heart ache. He couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking, and what she was feeling at that moment. It was like some invisible thread was tugging him toward her, pulling him closer with every breath.

She was oblivious to his presence, her attention focused on the chalkboard as the teacher droned on about some boring chemical reaction. It was impossible to believe that she was the same person from the live streams.

Chris sighed, rubbing his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He was so tired, and he couldn't bring himself to focus on anything other than her. The way she moved, the way she spoke...it was all so different than the streams, it was making him feel like he was losing his mind. He couldn't deny it anymore. He was way too obsessed with this girl.

"Chris sturniolo" He heard the teacher call his name, pulling him back to the present. He looked up at the teacher, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks. "Uh, yeah?" he managed to squeak out, hearing a couple of giggles from the class as he glanced around nervously.

"you and uh..." The teacher glanced down at her seating chart, then back up at him. "Yes, you and Miss...Y/n. You'll be working together on your group project." Chris felt his heart drop into his stomach. A sudden urge to run away from the classroom filled him, but he forced himself to stay in his seat. He couldn't avoid her now. He felt the room spinning as he clutched his pencil tightly, trying to steady his breath.

Couldn't the teacher have picked anyone else? he thought miserably as he glanced over at the girl, her face buried in her textbook, clueless to his discomfort. He was screwed, his mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like he was trapped in some twisted nightmare, forced to work with the one person he could never get out of his head.

He wanted to change partners, to get as far away from her as possible, but he knew it would only draw more attention to himself. So, with a deep breath, he gathered his things and made his way over to her desk. She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes, her lips curved into a small smile. "Hey," she said softly, her voice like honey drizzled over his skin.

His eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for an escape route, but it seemed as though fate had already trapped him. He wanted to speak and to say something but the words caught in his throat, leaving him feeling tongue-tied and awkward. He slowly lowered himself into the chair across from her, their chairs now barely a foot apart. The air between them felt as if a bolt of lightning were about to strike at any moment.

Their group project was to research the properties of a new type of battery, but all Chris could think about was how close she was sitting next to him. He could smell her perfume, a soft floral scent that made his head spin.

"So," Y/n said, clearing her throat as she leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder. "who's house should we meet at to start working on this project?"

Chris almost choked on his own saliva. "Huh?" he managed to croak out. He completely forgot that they were supposed to be working on the project outside of class. "Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Um, let's see..." He racked his brain for a place, any place, that wasn't his house. "How about we meet at the library after school?" He suggested, praying that she'd agree. He didn't want to spend any more time with her than necessary.

"but I don't think the library would be the best place to work on this project. Do you have any other ideas?" Y/n asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she studied him, making him feel exposed and weak. He could feel his palms growing sweaty as he struggled to come up with another suggestion.

"Uh, well, I guess we could meet at my house. I mean, I don't mind having people over," he stammered, instantly regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He felt his cheeks grow hot again and wished he could just sink into the ground. "I-I mean if that's okay with you," he added quickly.

What was he thinking? He should have just accepted his fate and stayed as far away from her as possible. But now, he'd just made it worse.

"Sure, that's fine," she finally said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him. He quickly gathered his things, anxious to get away from her. But as he turned to leave, she spoke again. "Hey, Chris?" she said softly, her voice barely above the noise of the other students packing up their things.

"um...I don't know where you live...do you have the address?" She asked, her tone light and casual, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel like she was toying with him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his nerves in check. "Can I get your number to text you when I'm on my way?" she added, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He wanted to crawl out of his skin. He was sure his face was as red as a tomato. "Uh, yeah, sure," he stuttered, scrambling for a pen to write down his number. He scribbled it down on a piece of paper and hastily handed it over to her. "Here," he said, his voice barely audible.

Thanks," she replied, taking the paper and glancing down at it, slipping it into her bag, before walking past him and out the door.

As she disappeared into the hallway, Chris found himself wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He couldn't believe he had just volunteered to have her come to his house. What had he been thinking?

this was short and a little rushed but i promise next part will be better 🫦🫶

taglist ☆@mattestrella@chrisfavoritepepsi@sunsetsturniolos@littlebookworm803@sturniozo@sturniolooooo@athaliahxoxo@rac00ns-are-c00l4@ev3rgreenxtrees@nonamegirlxsturniolo @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo@ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss @braindead4l @sturniolosreads @mattsturnzzz09 @itssophiasstuff @mayhem-72 @b2cute @buckys-celestes @graceciesiels22@urmom2bitch@junnniiieee07@breeloveschris@b2cute@1horrormoviewhore1@mattswrld@urmom2bitch @andreea2992 @luverboychris @mattslolita @thenickgirl @junovrsmp4 @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0

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freyyzu · 1 year

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A LITTLE PICK-ME-UP

a/n; it's final exams season and i'm suffering! which probably means a few of you are too, so hopefully this gives you a little push to make it through the rest of the month! i wrote this instead of finishing my essay :')

► Studying in the Devildom was difficult. Whether or not you were a good student back in the human realm didn't matter much here, especially when all of the material was completely new. Thankfully, you had a group full of supportive friends to help you make it through the ordeal.

Lucifer makes it a point that no one in the House of Lamentation is to bother you during your study time—especially Mammon—and that there would be severe punishment for anyone who decided to break those rules. Despite being a stickler for your grades, Lucifer is always the one who comes to check up on you the most to remind you not to overwork yourself, that dinner is ready and you should come down to eat. He brings you snacks periodically to make sure you're feeling energized and not burning yourself out from excessive studying, and is also the person to give you the most praise when all of it is over.

The first person to barge into your room the next day after you've finished a long study session is Mammon. He doesn't take 'no' for an answer and threatens to drag you out of the house himself if need be (you both know he wouldn't). He's not very good at studying, and Lucifer has forbidden him specifically from visiting your room for most of the day anyways, so the best he could do was make sure you weren't stressing even the day after. Are you ready for a date night? Too bad, get dressed, he's taking you to all your favorite places to make sure you forget about your (his) impending doom.

Exams are right around the corner and you know what that means? It's the perfect time to slack off and play video games! Levi is terrible for encouragement if you need someone to convince you to study. What you need is to stop worrying, and he's much, much better at helping you with that. Come to his room after you've finished your study session for the day, he's got your favorite games booted up and ready to play. If you don't have any energy after working for so long that's okay too, you can just watch your favorite anime series together! He'll make sure to pick out a comedy so you can laugh the stress away.

Satan is the only one who actively helps you study for your finals. He's a bit strict, but the way he teaches you all the spell incantations and potion ingredients is so easy to memorize that you feel like time has gone by in a flash. An amazing teacher, praises you every time you get something right, encourages you to try again when you get something wrong, and has a bunch of cheat-tips to make the harder to remember formulas feel as easy as 1+1. If you point out how incredible he is at tutoring you he gets extremely happy. He's happy to not only help you with your studies, but most of all just get to spend more time with you.

Your biggest hypeman throughout all of this is Asmo who visits you at the end of every night to give you a thorough relaxation time. He's another person who had "accidentally" skipped out on all of the study time and doesn't care too much about his grades as the others do, so he's making sure that he looks his best by the time finals roll around. That goes double for you! As soon as the clock hits time for your study time to be over, he's already knocking on your door to drag you to his room. A hot bath, a long face care routine along with some comfy PJ's and you're feeling like that creak in your neck never existed in the first place.

Beel is just as kind as Lucifer when it comes to making sure you're not overworking yourself. He knows how you can lose track of time whenever you're really focused on something, and makes sure to sned you texts every once in a while asking if you're holding up okay. Even if you don't reply back with how much work you have to get done, as long as he sees that his message has been 'read' that's enough for him to know he took your mind off studying for a while. Does his best to make your favorite foods, and asks Lucifer to bring it to you during his check-ups along with a little note telling you how you're doing great and to not stay up too late. You can't take the finals if you get sick!

Belphie claims that he'll help you with studying whenever Satan is occupied, but he's just looking for an excuse to spend time with you. He doesn't help much throughout the studying process, he hasn't even brought his books or pencils or well, anything. For the most part, he's resting his head on your table and looking over your work, pointing out points where you've made a mistake or giving you tips on an easier way to solve a problem. If there's anyone who can successfully make you take breaks during your moments of intense focus, it's Belphie. As in he literally shuts your textbook closed and drags you to lay down in bed with him. There have beena few moments where its caused you to doze off, but... at least you're feeling refreshed and raring to go again afterwards!

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shortpplfedup · 8 months

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Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 2

Hoboy these boys are all in over their heads in various ways and to various degrees. Add in some Real World-style confessional action and the mess is MESSING. This entire episode is just this gif:

Here's this week's rankings, with last week's rankings in parentheses

🔺1. Ray (3)

Some kind of friendship can start from having sex.

I knew all it would take was some time and a little bit of lore and Ray was gonna shoot up the rankings for me, and so said so done. The lonely little rich boy with the dead mom, the lack of self-esteem and the alcohol problem...yep yep yep, all seems right on time. The way those strippers sniffed him out and swarmed him...they know money when they see it. Sipping from that flask in the early daylight OK I SEE WHAT IS UP. Becoming a bugaboo to the first person to take any interest...yup this all tracks. Topping the toxique roster this week.

🔺2. Mew (5)

But I think I figured out your weakness now. Me.

This kid is so smug, he really thinks he's smart, he thinks he's in control. He really, truly thinks he can domesticate that alley cat. Trying to turn a hoe into a housewife for real. He's playing a game with Top, and he knows Top knows what the game is, but he's still confident he can win. Tale as old as time.

🔺3. Boston (4)

At least I beat Mew at this...You know no one can beat me at this kind of thing.

The jealousy radiating in WAVES off Boston this episode...OOF. Is this even about Top, or is this about beating Mew? Bit of both perhaps? This kind of love/hate friendship is SO REAL. Boston's probably felt like he was losing to Mew the entire time they've known each other. A 'friendship' built on longevity and resentment? Delicious.

🔻4. Sand (2)

I can be your friend. You don’t have to hire me.

Listen, when Sand asked that girl to come see his plants because he doesn't have a cat I cackled. He's like 'we both know what this is, does the excuse even matter?' and I loved it so hard. And then Ray begs a little and he tells homegirl to kick rocks and I--sir, down horrendous ALREADY?! That thousand yard stare in the confessional when he says you gotta be careful not to catch feelings fucking a friend? He knows he's screwed and he's still going in because he can't help himself, the softhearted fuck.

🔻5. Nick (1)

We’ve slept together many times. So what is this? What are we to each other?

OH NICK NICK NICK BABYGIRL. Nick took the mightiest fall this week in the rankings, because he has no game AT ALL. He had one move and he used it, and now he's just down the rabbit hole, just dickmatized. This is exactly what I wanted, but it's in the in between stage now before he gets truly desperate, when I'm sure he'll be back to reclaim his top spot.

🔺6. Cheum (and April) (7)

It's a blessing to have a lover who gets along with your friends.

THE LESBIANS ARE HERE and it seems will be providing the stability to everybody else's full-tilt boogie, but appearances can be deceiving. Listen, if Jojo and Ninew throw in some lesbian drama in this mix I may expire. In case you don't know, there is NOTHING like lesbian drama. Otherwise, Cheum being Top's biggest cheerleader is totally gonna come back and bite.

🔻7. Top (6)

Whenever I take aim, I never miss.

I dunno why Top is always near the bottom of the rankings because he's probably the biggest mess of them all, but I think it's because he is the most aware of what's playing off here and therefore the least in danger. Everybody else is working with either limited information or a misunderstanding of self, but Top knows EXACTLY who he is and what he wants, and he's clocked everybody else in this little group too. And I'm not sure I believe a single word that comes out of his mouth as a result.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

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idyllcy · 1 year

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Had no chance against the Marxist girl with marijuana

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Cupid's arrow grazes Komaeda's arm a little too hard

The bow of Cupid is ruthless.

Komaeda presses his hand to his mouth as he watches you sit at the library table. His heart rams against his chest. He had just wanted to talk to you and catch your eye somehow. It was innocent, he swears. He didn't even think as far as you staring at him. You were gorgeous. Your lips. Your hair. Your face. It was like the greeks had sculpted you of marble and brought you to life like in the myth of Pygmalion.

Komaeda stares back at you, lips parted in awe as you stare at him.

Ah. You were...dazzling.

You snap out of your trance, and Komaeda snaps out of his.

"Sorry," You laugh awkwardly at him. "I'll pack up."

"Thank you," He smiles, praying you don't notice the red burning at his neck and ears.

He steps away from you, trying to ignore the way your eyes burned into the back of his skull. His neck is warm with embarrassment. Ah, how could he stare at another student like that? He was probably older than you were. He fans his face as he watches you step out under the moon and grimaces. He couldn't do that. Not now. He couldn't afford to fall for someone like that. Feelings are foolish things. He can't believe he caught himself in a trap he set for someone else.

Komaeda picks up a couple of books, sending a glance your way.

He's noticed a couple of your habits. For one, you have never bothered fixing your bed hair. You drink iced lattes, preferably with oat milk. You like picking at the skin on your nails. Sometimes you rip at it until it bleeds. He doesn't like it when you do that. Yet, he's not someone who knows you, so he doesn't step out of line. Ah, you also stick stickers onto your face when you grow disheartened. It's cute.

Komaeda slips a book back into the shelf, checking the cart to see if there are any books left for where you sit. He flips through the tablet in his arms, checking off which books are back on the shelf. He glances at the setting sun through the stained glass, the colors of pink and orange reflecting on his skin. He was glad. He looked healthier these days. It seemed like the trial medicine was working. His chemo was also barely forcing him to lose hair. It was nice, even though he misses being able to eat without throwing up.

He taps the final checkbox, turning to shoot you one last glance before pushing the cart away.

Komaeda counts the final books in his arms, and the sun's completely disappeared. The stars and moon are out, and he pauses at the time. It's almost closing. He has to make an announcement.

"This is a reminder that the library closes in five minutes." His voice rings through the intercom, and people start filing out. He checks the security cameras while keeping an eye out on everyone. The faces are a blur to him. They don't seem that important, though he remembers some of the regulars. It isn't his first year here, after all.

As the last person leaves, he wonders where you are. Did you lose track of time again? He made sure to announce that the library was closing. He waves to his coworkers as they file out and heads to where you're supposed to be. The rest of the library is empty, and it looks almost eerie. Gothic libraries never looked good when it was night. They look too creepy for Komaeda's liking, but he supposes it covers his face a little. He wouldn't want to scare you with how ugly he was.

He finds you resting right where he left you.

He steps to the side first, adjusting the clocks.

Stepping up to you, he shakes your shoulders.

"Hey, time to wake up." He places his hand on your shoulder gently, voice just as soft.

Komaeda takes a step back as you stir, and he reaches for your hair unconsciously as you sit up. You're still dazzling as ever. He wonders if he could ever amass the courage to actually talk to you. You scare him a little. You're so attractive; surely other people have their sights on you? You deserve someone who isn't him. After all, he is hideous.

You jump in your seat, and Komaeda jolts back.

"I'm so sorry!" Komaeda watches you bow a full ninety degrees to him, and he panics.

"No, no! Don't worry about it! You seemed tired, so I thought it'd be better to have you be the last one to leave." Komaeda waves his hand. "You still have two minutes."

"I'm so sorry again!" You cry, grabbing your stuff and waving goodbye to him.

His heart races in his chest, and he presses his face into his palms. Ah. He was hopeless.

The candle above the hallway flutters gently, and Komaeda reaches to put it out. Maybe one day you'd stay behind with him and help him close the library- ah, what kind of a thought was he having? There's no way someone who doesn't work for the library would do that. He's getting hopeless. How could he expect that of a stranger who wasn't even into him?

Komaeda sighs to himself as he puts the last candle out.

Ah, the clock. Komaeda almost forgot.

The arrows of Cupid resemble the strings of fate almost. There's red connecting his fingertip to somewhere, and his heart races, knowing that it might be you. He had always been a little bit of a romantic. Maybe his destined soulmate was you. He knew it wasn't, yet he prayed that somehow it would be. 'It would be romantic,' he thinks, to fall in love with someone who was nothing more than a blurry figure connected to his pinky.

His cheeks warm at the thought.

A soulmate. How adorable.

Komaeda finds that his skin is growing healthier as the days pass. He's been exercising when Nekomaru requests to return to normal health. The bones under his skin are no longer visible. He takes that as an achievement. That meant he was growing healthier. That also meant that his lymphoma was slowly improving. Maybe he'll be able to drink sweeter teas once spring arrives. Perhaps he could take you out for tea?

"Achoo!" He sneezes.

Maybe he should focus on getting the leaves out of the way on the pathway first.

The green and red are raked into a pile, and Komaeda wonders if he'd be allowed to run and jump into it. Maybe he would. He is the one who has to rake all of it, and he's not bad at cleaning. He glances around, checking to see if there's anyone. There isn't. He's jumping.

He lands on the leaves with a satisfying crunch, and he watches the leaves fly up from his jump. It's pretty. He feels like he's in a fairytale. It was like hd was the main character was dancing in the fields. Well, that's a bit of a stretch. Behind him, he hears a giggle, and he whips his neck. There's no one there, but he does hear the sound of hurried footsteps running away. He hopes that wasn't you. He doesn't know what he'd do if you saw him doing something so silly.

He steps out of the leaves, fixing it with an obvious blush on his face.

If someone looked closely, you could almost see the smoke coming from his ears.

Komaeda fans his face as he steps back into the library, sitting at the front desk to help a couple students. He wonders if working at the library is the best choice he has ever made. He didn't believe Ms. Yukizome when she had suggested for him to work at a library, but now he had met the love of his life. Well. He thinks you're the love of his life. Maybe Cupid had shot him right in the heart as he saw you. Or maybe he was Cupid. Perhaps falling for you was a mistake he made on accident. That makes a little more sense.

Komaeda shoots another superficial smile as someone steps to the side.

"Hello, how can I help-" His throat dries at the sight of you.

"Ah, sorry," You smile, and Komaeda can't help but pray that you're smiling because of him. "I was wondering, since you're the librarian, if you had any book recommendations? I wanted to read something like murder mystery."

"Well," Komaeda collects himself with a cough. "I'd recommend Conan Doyle or Agatha Christie. Have you read And then there were none?"

"Ah, no," You tap your chin. "Which area is that book in?"

"I'll go with you," Komaeda smiles.

"Thank you..." Komaeda notices the pause and squint at his nametag.

"Nagito," He smiles. "Please call me Nagito."

"Thank you, Nagito," Komaeda steps ahead, ears and neck burning. He's hopeless. He's so far down in love with someone he doesn't know the name of. He's gone insane. He can't think straight, nearly missing the section where the book was. He apologizes, reaching to grab the book for you.

"Is that one alright?"

"Yes."

He can't see your face, but he can hear something in your voice. Mirth, perhaps.

He turns around, muscles tensing at the sight of you almost glued to his back. "Sorry!"

"No, no!" You gasp. "I'm sorry for being so close! I was looking at the other book."

You pull out a romance book from the shelf, and Komaeda flushes.

"Are you more into slow burns?"

"I like both," Komaeda frowns as you avert your eyes. "Ah, speaking of which. Have you read Growing Pains? I heard it's really good."

Komaeda remembers that one. It was one of the first books he picked up when he entered college. It's still his favorite.

"I have," He smiles. "It's a really good book. Have you?"

"No," Komaeda notices you perk up. "Shall I read it?"

"Yes," Komaeda grabs for it, an action he's done thousands of times. He adored the book. He hopes you'll like it just as much as he does. "How about It's a soulmate thing? You're holding I'm here, so I assumed you might-"

"Yes, please," Komaeda stammers as you nearly moan. "I'm a sucker for soulmate stories."

"I'm glad," He smiles. "and... Seashells and Sketchbooks?"

"Mermaids!" You gasp, and Komaeda brightens at your tone. You're excited. He got a reaction like that out of you. Ah, was he in heaven? "Sorry, I've read that one. I loved it."

"It's good, isn't it? I love it too." He smiles, the pink on his cheeks.

"What's your favorite?" You peer at him curiously, and he swallows slowly. You have... pretty lashes.

"Growing Pains," He mumbles, looking to the side. "It took my heart and crushed it in the best way possible. I can't get over the ending. You?"

"Hands down, it's Sketchbook and Seashells," You mumble. "I'm Here is a close second. Both of them were so gentle and fluffy. I was living in a cloud while reading both of them."

"I'm willing to bet that you'll like Growing Pains more once you finish the book." Komaeda doesn't know where the confidence is stemming from to bet with you, but he doesn't complain. "Hm?"

"Sure," Komaeda's nearly blinded by your smile. You're so pretty. You're so dazzling. Oh, what would he do with his racing heart? "What does the winner get?"

Komaeda reaches for the book in your hand. "We'll decide after you read the book."

All the way until you leave, Komaeda's heart fights his chest. He prays that you can't hear it. He can play the blushing off as the weather, but he can't play off his racing chest as anything else. You're just too pretty. He wants to wrap his arms around you until you grow tired of him. He waves to you until you leave and falls to his knees behind the desk. You're so... so... pretty. He's going insane. His heart is going a million miles a minute. He was really in love with you. He had it so bad.

He waits for you to finish the book, praying that he won. He doesn't know what he would even ask you for if he wins but hopes you like the book an incredible lot... he may have neglected to tell you that the first handful of chapters are angst.

Hopefully the other two books mend your broken heart.

"You," Komaeda jumps at the sight of you slamming the books onto the counter. "I'm going to strangle you alive."

"I take that I won the bet, then?" Komaeda scans the books back into the library system.

"Yes." You sigh. "You won, but I want you to read Lonely Kids."

"Sure," Komaeda smiles. "So, since I won, I want you to read another handful of books."

"Oh?" You tilt your head.

"Read Stay With Me, Hold my Hand," He smiles. "It's a series."

"Alright." You mumble. "I'll scalp you if it makes me cry."

"It might," He pauses. "It's by the same author as Growing Pains."

"I'm going to cry, then," Komaeda watches you grimace. "It's so beautifully destructive. I love the way they write. The whole world is built around you so beautifully only for it to be torn into shreds."

"Yeah," Nagito smiles. "Though, this one will make you cry harder."

"I'll read it over break," You sigh. "Thank you, by the way. And Then There Were None was a really good story."

"I'm glad." Komaeda hums. "Will you be working here again?"

"Yes," Komaeda watches you rush off.

He hopes you don't cry over "Stay with me, Hold my hand." The series had no redeeming fluff compared to the amount of angst it had. Maybe you'd cry to him about it. He wouldn't mind if you wrapped your pretty fingers around his neck and destroyed him. Maybe he'd thank you. It'd be like in the story. He always felt he kinned the second male lead more than he was supposed to. Second male lead? He's not sure. The series was announced to be discontinued. Maybe you'd bring a possible ending onto the table.

Komaeda checks in the rest of the books. Maybe you'd talk to him about it.

Komaeda blinks as you hand him a cup of coffee.

"Don't ask. I guessed your order," You mumble quietly. "I just... thought you might want one. Midterms are around the corner."

"Thank... you," Komaeda smiles. His face is on fire. Please don't notice the blush on his face. He's going to cry over it. Just from the smell alone, he knows you got it right. It was the same tea his doctor had been prescribing him lately to keep a cough at bay. He actually likes the tea for one. You're a gift from heaven; he's sure of it. He's about to get on his knees and worship you. Or bark. Maybe you like dogs. He can play one perfectly; after all, it's not like he wasn't-

"Uh, do you like tea?"

"Yes!" Komaeda beams. He can't believe you want to get to know him. "I have a preference for tea that isn't bitter. I can't taste many things because of my medication, you see."

"Medication?" You tilt your head.

"I'm being treated for a couple illnesses." He hums. "Sorry."

"No! Don't be!" You gasp. "I wish you a speedy recovery. Please take care of yourself."

"Of course," He smiles. anything for you.

Komaeda finishes half of the tea before he musters up the courage to help you out. You look stressed. He had seen your textbook a few times and was sure that he absolutely despised the seminar you were taking. He thought it'd be nice, but he guessed not. It wasn't the most pleasant class he had ever attended. If he's right... he should still have the test somewhere in his google drive. Maybe you'd want that?

Komaeda taps your shoulder gently. "Would you like some help? I took that class already."

"Yes, please?" You stare up at him with doe eyes. "I'm losing my mind over the subject."

"Does giving you the test and correct answers count as helping?"

"Yeah," You stare at him, chin tilted to the ceiling. Komaeda's breath catches in his throat. You're pretty. You have lovely eyes. He could get lost in them for hours. "Do you have it?"

"I do," Komaeda smiles. He sits down across from you, pulling his laptop open. He looks through his files and sends the right one to you.

"What's your major?" Komaeda mumbles quietly.

"Designing my own," You whisper back.

"You're in that college? I thought you'd be in the main one?"

"Easier chance getting into that one," You stare at him, the ghost of a smirk on your face. "I wanted to live here."

"I can see that," Komaeda mumbles back. Ah, were you toying with him? He'll let you do that. After all, you are his blessing. "You suit the city."

"Thank you," You mumble, and Komaeda watches your lashes flutter. You're tired.

"Would you like to nap?" Komaeda smiles. "I can wake you up when the library closes again."

"Thank you," You mumble, resting your head in your arms. "I owe you."

"Don't be silly," He gets up, pulling his coat off his shoulders. "As a thank you for the tea."

The coat goes over your shoulder, and he goes back to work.

The dust on the books collects a little, and Komaeda cleans it. His heart is lighter today. You don't seem to hate him. That was lovely. You seem to like him. Platonically. He doesn't mind. He'd love it if you were to fall for him slowly. He prayed that Cupid would graze you with an arrow like he was grazed. Even if he were cursed to love you for eternity, he would gladly do so.

The sun sets, though not visibly, and the clock strikes. It's time to close. Komaeda offers to stay back again, waving goodbye to his coworkers as they leave. If he was last, he'd be able to close up with you. The method might be a little underhanded, but you wouldn't mind, right?

"Closing time," He takes his jacket from your shoulders, and you stir. "We're the last ones."

"Alright," You mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Thank you. It was very warm."

"Of course," Komaeda tosses your empty cup into the trash and heads out.

The moon kisses your face. Komaeda holds his breath as he notices and can't help but think that you're gorgeous. How lucky was he? To be able to see someone like you under the moon themselves. He swears he'll love you forever. Just as the moon chased the sun and the red on his pinky burned, he would chase after you. Nothing would tear him from you. Not even the cutting of the string.

Komaeda wraps the bandage around his finger. He hurt himself again. He should really stop. His scabs form slower than they're supposed to because of his treatment, yet he can't help it. The papers from the printer are sharp. It really wasn't his fault. Yet, he can't help but wonder if you'll ever treat him. Maybe he should get hurt on purpose just to see your reaction. Ah. No. How could he do that? What a strange thought.

He puts the bandage back, and he stares at his phone. He has his own midterms to worry over.

The tea is warm in his hand as he steps into the library. He didn't like studying at the one he worked at, but he wonders if he'll see you. Maybe he will. He doesn't know your schedule as well as he'd like to. He likes it better with you around. Maybe you'd be willing to read with him.

He finds you huddled on a couch with "Autumn Comes when you're not yet done" in your hands. He purses his lips at the look of betrayal on your face. Are you going to fight him again? Please no.

He sits down a bit further from you, working on his own homework. He's a little tired from the shift yesterday. Though, you seem to be enjoying the book. You're expressive, so he supposes that you've liked it so far. If you hated it, you would've put it down. Maybe that was the art of the writer. The way you couldn't put down the book no matter how hard you tried. He remembers that feeling.

"I'm going to stab him later omfg," You mumble under your breath, and Komaeda jumps. Did he go too far? As you close the book and finish it with tears in his eyes, he wonders if he should get you something sweet to eat.

Komaeda wonders if you like him some days.

His heart rams against his chest whenever he's around you, and it's somehow gotten worse with time. Would you accept him if he were to ask you out? Maybe you'd recoil out of disgust and never visit the library ever again. He doesn't even know if you have a talent. He had just forgotten completely about it thanks to how gorgeous you looked when he first met you.

It doesn't matter. His mind is screaming at him to think properly, but he doesn't care. He likes you a lot. He adores you. He wants to press his hands on your skin and kiss you. Ah. How vile of him. He couldn't think something like that. How foul of him.

When you step up to him with a cup of coffee after midterms, his heart catches in his throat as his head spins. You? Spend time with him? What city had to be hit by an asteroid for you to ask him that? Which one of his loved ones just passed because of your words? Oh, you shouldn't fill him up with such hope like this.

He finds himself accepting anyways. His heart is caught in his throat, a million thoughts a minute. Why would you ask him? Was it something in the books? Did you not like them? No. There's no way that's the case. You showed no signs of disappointment as you asked him to coffee. Was this your way of thanking him? You weren't blushing or dying when you asked him either. How could he ever begin to figure you out?

As the two of you sit in the coffee shop, he's far too busy with his own thoughts to read you. He prays you won't be able to read him.

Komaeda finds that one date turns into two, and two dates turn into four, by then which he stops counting.

He likes spending time with you. He likes the way his heart breaks his ribs to try and tell you how he feels. He enjoys sitting down and reading with you, again and again, time after time. Komaeda adores you to pieces. He could pick stars and the moon out of the sky if you willed. He would leave all his past behind just to run with him. Yet, he's lonely. He wonders if his younger self would cry at the sight of someone as gentle and loving as you.

It's spring when Komaeda's hair is blown back, and his face is back on display. He watches you stare at him in awe, heart breaking your ribs. He doesn't know that. He's convinced he just scared you off with how ugly he is. His hands move frantically to try and push his hair back in front of his face, and you stop him. Your hands slide up his forehead. You stare at him for a little longer, heart racing in your ears.

"You're pretty," To you, those words might've not meant much, but to Komaeda, he felt the entire foundation of his beliefs shaken. You were just that powerful to him.

Komaeda flushes impossibly redder, his entire body in flames. You hadn't even touched him intimately, and he was already a mess in your hands. He wondered what would happen if you were to touch him. Would he melt? You would probably run away in fear of him. Maybe you'd leave him because of how weak he was. He wouldn't be surprised if you did. He wasn't as strong as his classmates, and he seemed like nothing compared to the others in the school.

"Nagito," You breathe, staring at the male. Komaeda can hear his heart dying in his chest.

"What?" He stares at you.

"I like you."

Komaeda goes silent, and for a moment, you worry that you've offended him.

Komaeda's throat dries. You like him? Pathetically, disgusting him? The vilest human he had ever seen? The only person to destroy everything around himself until there's nothing more than shards of what reality once was? Komaeda doesn't understand you. You're such a glowing person, yet you choose to help him out in times of need. You stare at him, and he can tell you're getting fidgety.

His mind spirals. You like him? There's no way. You can't like trash like him. He can't let himself have you. You deserve someone better. Yet, who was he to reject you and turn you down? You wanted him of all people. You wanted to get to know him. You like him. You have a crush on him. He's been dreaming of this moment for ages. Surely, it wouldn't be a bad idea to agree to it? His hands grip your shoulders unconsciously, and he heaves.

"Say it again," Komaeda swallows, heart ringing in his ears. "Please. Please say it again."

"I..." Komaeda watches your lips stay open and heart pulse on your neck. "like you. I like you a lot."

Komaeda's speechless. His heart rings in his head now, the blood gushing into his mind. You like him? You like him. Holy mother of mary. You like him. This must be the best day of his life. He must be dying tomorrow. You're in love with him too. He doesn't realize he's gone silent for too long until he notices you're not looking at him anymore. Ah. He scared you.

His hands are taken off of you apprehensively, sliding to your neck and tilting your chin upward to face him. His breathing is erratic, desperate to not scare you off. You can probably feel his hands shaking against your skin. What should he say? How should he say it? That he's been in love with you for ages? That he wants to worship you until the fall of man? How could he ever begin to tell you how much he adored you?

"Look..." Komaeda swallows slowly, voice shaking. "look at... me."

You open an eye to stare at him.

"I like you too," Komaeda's voice shakes bad. "I like you a lot too. I'm infatuated with you. It was as though Cupid had grazed my skin with an arrow the first time we met. I adore you to pieces. I can't... I can't think of living without you."

Komaeda watches your eyes widen as he continues rambling, the blush creeping up his neck and driving him insane.

"You like me too?" You grab his wrists, cutting him off. "You do? Oh, tell me you do."

"I do," Komaeda swallows slowly. "I do adore you so much, darling."

Komaeda panics as you start crying. With no thought in his mind, he pushes you into his chest, praying that a hug will offer you some sort of solace. You might be able to hear how bad his heart is beating for you. He hopes you won't mind. Maybe you'll find comfort in his arms like he found comfort in your presence. Would that be nice? It'd be sweet if that were to happen. It would make him most overjoyed.

And you stay there, and Komaeda prays that you'll stay there forever.

For some reason, he knows the answer.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #komaeda #nagito #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reade #sdra2 x reader #☾.fics

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zombie-rott · 9 months

Text

"Self-care isn't selfish, Papa."

Synopsis:

Papa Copia needs to understand the meaning of 'self-care' after a hard tour. Fortunately, the ghouls are there to help.

Notes:

A stressed-out Papa, an unwillingness to ask for help and some Ghoulies (special mention to Mountain).

Just some fluffy stuff inspired by a discord conversation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Copia felt the familiar twinges of a headache starting behind his eyes. Not surprising considering how long he’d been slaving over receipts, accident reports and all the outstanding paperwork from their previous tour.

They’d been on the road for three, maybe four months, and as much as the Papa had tried, it was impossible to keep everything organised. Their usual assistant had suddenly taken ill during the beginning stretch of the tour and Copia, not wanting to cause a fuss, had reassured the clergy that he was able to handle the paperwork alongside performing. How hard could it possibly be?

Very bloody hard it turns out.

Nothing was labelled, nor organised, and reporting Dew’s accidents alone was proving overwhelming. Copia had never noticed just how much the small ghoul injured himself. It was a wonder he still had all his limbs intact!

“Porca troja!” Copia growled as he came across yet another tattered mystery receipt.

They’d only returned home the morning prior and Copia felt like he’d had no time to decompress from what was an exhilarating tour. He'd met so many people, signed countless autographs and sang to thousands, if not millions, of dedicated followers. And afterwards, as always, he and his crew had enjoyed each other’s company on both buses and at various parties.

But Copia was nothing if not an ambivert. Yes, he enjoyed the attention and fed off the limelight, but not so much as the Papa before him. Copia needed time to decompress and to be with himself, and only himself. He needed time to read without noise or disruptions. Or to take a long, warm bath with his favourite movie or the soft instrumentals of Apocalyptica.

But he hadn’t so much as had time to sleep alone, never mind find time to relax. He’d always awoke to one or more ghouls curled up beside him, their soft purrs filling the air. It was nice, he had to admit, but personal space was a virtue.

“Argh!” Copia barked, slamming his elbows to the table and dropping his head into his hands.

Why hadn’t he just requested another assistant? What had possessed him to take on paperwork alongside his own job as Papa, head of all? Surely this was all beyond him now at his level?

This was impossible.

“Papa?”

Copia didn’t need to look up to recognise the soothing voice of the earth ghoul, Mountain. Easily the tallest and most lumbering of the pack, yet he held the softest heart.

“Si?” He snapped in response. Regret immediately coiled in his gut at his tone of voice. He hadn’t meant to sound so irritated, especially not with the gentle ghoul.

“Sorry Papa, but your door was open. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, no mi dispiace.” Copia sighed, looking toward the tall figure,” I’m just exhausted looking at all this mierda.”

Mountain approached Copia’s desk, his dark eyebrows knitting together in worry and his pointed ears pushed downwards.

“W-would a break help?”

A break? Copia hadn’t dared think about taking a break. He’d been at this since late yesterday afternoon and had barely found the time to sleep let alone stop for a cup of tea.

He forced a soluem smile towards the Ghoul.

“Mountain, mio amigo, I wish I could step away for a while. But there’s too much left to do and sister needs these by Friday.”

Mountain checked his smart watch, a gift from one of the roadies to help him keep an eye on the clock. While eager to please, the ghoul had a bad habit of getting lost in his own thoughts and losing track of time.

“It’s Tuesday, Papa.” The ghoul angled the small screen so Copia could see TUE written in bold letters, “Surely you can step away from these for a little while? You’ve been stuck at your desk for nearly eight hours.”

Had it really been that long? No wonder his head was beginning to throb.

Copia sighed.

“I wish I could, Mountain. But I’m scared if I leave these now, they’ll never get done.”

Mountain craned round to take a look at the piles upon piles of paper thrown across Papa’s desk. It was nothing he or his fellow ghouls could help with, that much was true, but there were several people within the ministry that could.

“If I might be so bold, Papa, why haven’t you asked one of the Siblings for help? There are plenty equip to do so.” Sister Trechia, the junior accountant, for one. Or even Brother Adam, the ministries senior librarian. They’d both spent time on the road during Terzo’s reign and had handled a far worse array of forsaken receipts.

Copia frowned and let out a huff of breath. He opened and closed his mouth several times as if searching for a response but failing to find one. Finally he shrugged his shoulders.

“I-I just didn’t want to bother any one.”

“But that’s what we’re all here for, Papa. To help each other.”

“Ah, si. Si. I know.” Copia responded, pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “I just - I am not good at asking for help.”

“But you will tomorrow.” Mountain responded. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

"I mi-"

"You will, C. Or you'll burn out again."

Copia allowed his mind to wander back to a time when he'd been at his absolute worst. It was after their first tour when he wasn't prepared for the sheer volume of people, places and emotions that came along with being the head of Ghost. He'd spent days if not weeks in his room, his head filled with ominous and dark thoughts, and his stomach churning with anxiety.

It was one of the darkest periods in his life and, yet, his ghouls had been there through it all.

"Non mio amigo. I don't want that to happen again." He admitted to not only himself but his dear friend.

"Then you'll ask Sister Trechia for her help and this will all be done with before you know it." Mountain smiled.

“Si, my ghoul.” Copia allowed a gentle smile to spread across his lips as he looked back towards the gentle giant, “Tomorrow I will approach her to help me organise the chaos we have caused.”

Mountain clapped his hands together in approval.

“So now you can join us for some much-needed relaxation.”

Copia cocked his eyebrow.

“This had better not be another one of your parties. You know that isn’t exactly my idea of relaxing.”

“No, no! I promise you’ll enjoy this. Come on!” Mountain took Copia by the arm and pulled him from his chair.

“Ah - but wait -I haven’t finished -”

“I can wait until tomorrow, Papa. Sister and you will get things finished in no time. But for now, you need to unwind!”

Copia gave in and allowed the ghoul to guide him towards the pack's quarters. While they were growing further from his office, thoughts of his paperwork still plagued his mind.

However not for much longer.

Copia felt his soul light up when, as they entered the quarters, several pair of eyes stared back at him gleefully. A chorus of cheerful greetings’ rang throughout the room as Swiss jumped up to meet them.

“You’ve been locked up in your office since we got home, C. You gotta’ give yourself some downtime.” Swiss chimed.

There was a flurry of fur and the whip of many tails as the ghouls moved to make room for Copia on the corner couch. The Papa barely had time to protest before his shoes were forcefully removed from his feet and a blanket was wrapped around him. But it was the hot mug of tea forced into his hands that finally made Copia relax back against the cushions.

“Ghouls, you’re all too good to me.” He said cheerfully.

“You always look after us, Papa. This is the least we can do.” Dew responded. He settled himself beside Copia, his tail pushing in behind the Papa’s back in search of warmth.

“What do you want to watch? You get to pick this time!” Cumulus chirped.

“Anything, mio amigos?”

Several heads nodded in response.

“Silence of The Lambs it is!” Copia laughed.

There were a few groans followed by shushing from Mountain and Swiss. Copia chuckled. They had said anything, after all, and Silence of The Lambs was a classic!

“Don’t listen to them, Papa. This is your night.” Mountain settled beside Copia and smiled a warm, toothy grin,” Relax and forget about everything beyond this room.”

“I miei demoni. You know just what I need and when I need it.”

Silence fell across the room when the movie began to play. As he caught wind of the familiar purrs of the ghouls surrounding him, Copia couldn’t help but think how loved he was.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #my fanfic #fluff #ghouls #ghost ghouls #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

for you

masterlists

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary - After an old enemy of Natasha's resurfaces, you take justice into your own hands.

18+ : depictions of violence, murder, blood, knives, guns, weapons, reader is a gorlboss w no remorse

Word Count - 3340

An old enemy of Natasha’s had surfaced after multiple years in a high security prison and the way she reacted at the mention of his name was one of the few times you’d ever seen her truly scared. She’d tracked him for months, a dangerous and ruthless man who was hard to catch and when she finally got close he went after the only person she was close to at the time.

He killed her friend in cold blood, something she worked hard not to make purely for this reason; it was brutal and gruesome, one of the worst things she’d ever seen.

“I don’t think I’d ever seen so much blood.” She uttered quietly as everyone listened to her recounting of events, you held her hand beneath the table, the quietness to her voice hurt your heart. “He goes after the people you’re closest to - the people you love.” She added, eyes darting to you and Yelena.

“We’ll kill him before it gets to that.” She uttered in response.

“Uh, no. We’ll catch him before it gets to that.” Steve corrected, of course earning an eye roll and a shake of the head from Yelena. The ‘no killing’ rule was boring for you both, that’s what you’d both been trained to do, what you were good at and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that enjoyed it. Yelena, however, was a little bit better at following the rules than you - that big sister glare always put her in line.

“He’s dangerous. You don’t find him, he finds you and if he finds any of us we’re dead.” Natasha spoke, the fear was evident in her face, her eyes glossed over in tears at the mere thought of losing either of you. “I swear, Steve, if Yelena or Y/N get killed because you’re not quick enough to find him I will kill him with my bare hands and you’ll be next in line.” She spoke through gritted teeth before standing abruptly from where she sat and left the room.

She didn’t mean what she said, you all knew that but it was rare to see her quite this scared. It made your blood boil. Acid in your veins, burning at your skin - the fact that this man was causing her this pain. Your jaw clenched in anger, one had gripped tightly onto the arm of the chair as the other flicked through the information on him. If anybody saw the visible anger across your body they didn’t say anything.

It was more of a waiting game than anything - either catch him quick enough when he appeared or monitor any suspicious goings on in the background until he popped up. Every system that could find him was working around the clock but so far, nothing had surfaced. A week had passed with odd whispers of his appearance but never anywhere near New York and by the time you’d get there it was as if he was never there.

So keeping a watchful eye out was the best that could be done; security had been upped by Tony, Natasha kept an annoyingly close eye on you and Yelena and Carol and Thor even arrived to act as muscle just in case things went awry.

Natasha was a little less tense about the situation considering it’d be hard for him to strike in these conditions and Wanda decided that movie nights were the ideal solution to keep everyone together and spirits as high as possible. They’d happened every night and were surprisingly enjoyed by all.

You couldn’t quite let things just be a ‘waiting game’ though and took matters into your own hands, you were training harder and scouring through footage into the early hours of the morning. You were going to take him down one way or another and you’re fairly certain on your way of choice.

You were always good at finding people and your talents don’t seem to have failed you this time either; you knew where he was going to be, you had a plan - you were going to end this and make your Natasha happy again.

“I’m gonna go and train for a couple hours - I’ll be back in time for the movie.” You announced, pushing your chair back from the table, kissing Nat on the top of her head and nodding to the rest of the team before you left.

You knew that nobody would be training now, you made sure to be the only one to not go to the gym this morning, so the coast is clear on that front. Your skills with technology came in handy with the looping of the security cameras and you’d made it look as though you were following your workout routine. You felt like a mastermind with the way you’d secured your room completely, an audio set up to respond as you if anyone tried to go in - you had to laugh to yourself at your brilliant idea.

You were quick to change into your suit with a zip up hoodie on top, favourite knives secured to you and your gun in its holster. You scaled the side of the building from your window effortlessly before heading off, your hood hid your face well enough to catch a bus across town without being recognised.

It didn’t take too long to get there, he’d been right under your noses for a few days, an abandoned warehouse was his cliche idea of the perfect location for a criminal hideout.

In a display of overconfidence, his security was sparse and the overly muscular men smoking cigarettes outside the doors didn’t see the hooded figure creeping up on them. It was too late to save themselves when the silencer adorned gun shot bullets through their skulls in quick succession, blood pooling around their lifeless faces on the dirty concrete ground.

You smirked at the sight, pulling off your hood and tossing the garment aside. You didn’t try to be quiet, squeaking the door open and letting it close behind you with a metallic clang, silent footsteps carrying you through until you saw him. He was playing poker with other sleazy looking men, cheap suits over their bodies and the stale and pungent aftershave they all wore made the air thick.

Just as the first man’s eyes widened as they flitted in your direction you shot a bullet right between them, and just as his body slumped onto the table in front of him you sent another through the next one’s head.

It was simple and quick until the last remaining henchman pulled a gun right back at you, though he of course dropped it with a clatter when you threw a knife right through his arm. You sauntered over to his screaming body and pulled it out before stabbing it right into his neck, he gargled on his own blood whilst you watched until his eyes went cold.

All the while, your true target just watched from his seat, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Hello, Y/N. I must admit, I’m surprised you’re here solo.”

“I’m better at killing fuckers like you alone.”

“So am I.” He uttered and he must think you’re stupid because the make shift booby trap he’d set up hadn’t gone unnoticed by you and the dagger that came straight for your head was easily caught in your fist. God, who does he think he is - a movie supervillain?

“Nice try.” You deadpanned as he tried to hide the shock on his face, not so subtly unclasping the gun from behind his back. You ran at him, closing the space between you just as he was about to pull the trigger. There was a sickening crunch of bone as you bent his wrist backwards, pulling the weapon from his grasp and leaving him crying out in pain.

“Sit the fuck down.” You seethed through gritted teeth, keeping your gun trained on him as he made his way to a chair. The way you shot through his knee made him crash into the seat quicker with a shout, hole torn through the material of his trousers.

“You fucking crazy bitch.” He shouted out as you smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice place you’ve got here - very…no, I can’t even think of anything. This place is fucking gross.” You muttered, checking in the pockets of the blazers of your earlier victims, pulling out guns which you dropped onto the table before casually reloading your own.

“If you’re going to kill me, just hurry up and do it.” He spoke as you made your way behind him, pulling the duct tape from your pocket and generously wrapping it around his wrists you’d yanked behind him. You hope you’d dislocated his shoulder by the way he hissed.

“No, I don’t think I will.” You returned, coming to stand in front of him now with your hand pushing down onto the bullet wound to his knee. “I’m gonna make this real slow. I want to see you crumble, bit by bit, as I chip away at the little time you have left.” You dug your thumb into the hole, feeling the blood on your skin as he tried to hide how much it hurt.

The knife you pulled out was one of your favourites, the shining silver blade reflected the light that hung from the ceiling and you touched the point of it with your finger, twirling it in your grasp with an excited smile on your lips. It was reminding you of the good old days, where you did this kind of thing for a living - it made you feel powerful, you were in control. You played God. You decide whether he lives or dies.

You dragged the sharp edged metal down his cheek, barely breaking the skin, watching as his eyes strained to look at it - full of fear. It was pathetic really.

“There’s no need to be scared. Fear is for uncertainty.” You spoke, dragging it down to his abdomen until you reached the spot you wanted. “And this,” You pushed the knife into his flesh, not fatal but enough to earn a cry of pain. “This is not uncertain - we know what’s going to happen. You’re going to die. So don’t worry, the pain I’m causing will end…eventually.”

He didn’t speak, he was in too much pain for that. Blood dripped onto the grim floor beneath him, grey splattered with red as a sweat formed over his skin.

The knife from his abdomen was pulled out before being plunged back in on the mirroring side - you could never get bored of the sounds of his pain. The panting for breath through gritted teeth, a high pitched groan at the back of his throat anytime he moved. Perhaps when they speak of the angel’s song in heaven, this is what they mean.

“What next, hm? You wanna choose?” You asked him, a twisted smile of innocence directed his way. “No? Okay then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You wandered over to his stash of weapons, haphazardly displayed on a table across the room, almost as though they were left for you. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, you just had to take your pick and it was like a kid in a candy store.

“You have a sword? That’s cool - a little pretentious for my taste but whatever. Oh, it’s heavy.” You laughed as you picked it up, turning to him in amusement though he didn’t seem to be finding anything remotely entertaining. “Holy shit, you have a rocket launcher - my friend Yelena would love this.” You mused, touching the device where it lay - you were not taking any risks with that right now.

“You’re such a crazy bitch.” He choked out, could he not at least be a tad more creative with his insults? These are pretty lazy.

You stepped back over to him with your chosen weapon of choice, a fancy pair of nunchucks that should hopefully do some slow damage. You sighed in disappointment as you approached, tugging the tie from around the neck of one of the slumped bodies.

“I didn’t wanna have to do this. We were getting along so well.” You tutted, balling the tie up and shoving it into his mouth. “Though I’m not too upset - your voice is really fucking annoying.”

You span the nunchucks in a show off manner, wind whistling through them at the speed before suddenly bringing them down into his shin with a vile crack of broken bone. You did the same to his other legs as tears dripped down his paling face, muffled cries of pain falling on deaf ears.

“These are cool.” You nodded, looking at the weapon curiously.

His head was starting to slump forwards as his consciousness started to dwindle but you quickly flung it back with a punch to his jaw.

“Nuh uh, I’m not done yet.”

You punched his face until your knuckles hurt, blood poured from his broken nose and lips. His eye was swelling shut and you were running out of time. Not only was he on the brink of being knocked out completely but you also had to get back in time for movie night - Wanda had chosen Mamma Mia.

“Okay, dickhead, lucky for you, we’re running out of time. It’s been magical, truly, but there's a pizza with my name on it at home and I’m the only one who likes pineapple so I’m gonna have to speed this up.”

You let your anger at him take over now, repeatedly stabbing the blade of the knife into his body. Over and over and over. You continued even when he’d passed out, pulse weak but still pumping as you got covered in more and more of his blood. The one that finally killed him was the one you sent through his chest, as much force as you could muster with a loud crunching against the metal, blade getting wedged in the bone.

You stood back and admired your handiwork with your hands on your hips and a nod. His head was flopped against his chest, unrecognisable and barely visible beneath all the blood. His white shirt was practically red and the floor surrounding him was glistening crimson; the piece de resistance was the hilt of your knife poking out from his chest, right through that rotten heart.

Your work here was done. He was dead, you’d had a little fun in the process and now it was time to head home. You were covered in blood but you knew the quickest way to walk back without being seen.

You could hear chattering in the living room where everyone else had gathered, just waiting on your arrival from where they believed to be your bedroom. All that killing had worked up an appetite and left you gasping for a drink so you instead made your way to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water and chugging it over the sink.

“What is it, Stark?” You heard Steve hurry out upon seeing the billionaire receive a tense looking call, everybody watched as he rubbed his forehead in frustration and Natasha couldn’t help but think something bad had happened to you. He hung up with an ‘okay’, leaving the room in silence.

“Spit it out, Tony.” She urged.

“Shield agents acted on a hunch that Hill had, they thought sending agents would be best in case they were useless leads, but they found him.”

“They did? Where? Let’s go get him.”

“No. They found him dead, as well as all of his security and an entire poker table of men. They said they’d never seen so much blood.” He returned.

Never seen so much blood.

The cogs in everyone’s head turned until they realised it’s what Nat had said a couple of weeks earlier. It wasn’t hard to realise you were the only member of the team not currently in the room. They all hurried towards the kitchen at the sound of a cupboard shutting and were shocked to find you casually sitting on the countertop sipping on a glass of water.

“Hey, guys.”

You smiled at them as they stood with mouths agape, eyes wide and appalled at what they were seeing. Your face held splatters of blood, your hands were rusty red and your suit was just as covered.

“Why are you staring? Have I got something on my face? Do I have something in my teeth? I had spinach at lunch.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Tony shouted, the vein that only pops out of his forehead when he’s fumingly angry was staring at you too.

“Isn’t it obvious? This isn’t a makeup trend, Tony.” You responded, gesturing at the blood on your face, you saw Yelena fight back a smile. She was pleased with what you’d done, though kind of wish you’d invited her. “I killed him. He’s not a problem anymore, it’s over and me and Yelena can go to that laser tag place that opened up. And Nat can finally live without looking over her shoulder for him.” You shrugged.

“Detka, why would you - why did you do this?” Natasha asked softly, she never thought you’d go off the deep end quite like this but she wasn’t as disgusted as Steve, Tony and Bruce seem to be.

“I did it for you, my love.”

“You went against my biggest rule, Y/N.” Steve shouted. “Not only that but it was so heinous - you didn’t just kill him you killed seven other men. Do you not feel guilty? Ashamed? Like the monster you so clearly are?”

Wanda, Natasha and Yelena all threw him horrified looks at that but your face never wavered.

“Nope.”

Not ten minutes later, he was dragging you to a cell. You didn’t care, you’d done what you had to with not an ounce of regret. He pushed you in there as though he didn’t even know you, like you were the scum on the bottom of his shoe, just another monster.

It was only an hour of you lying on the ground staring at the boring white ceiling until they crept in - Nat, Yelena and Wanda.

“We’re getting you out.” Yelena grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly.

“Really?”

“Mhm. You’re my best friend Y/N/N and even though what you did was completely unhinged, it was kinda necessary.” Wanda shrugged, using the red whisps to unlock the cell with ease. “And I don’t give a shit about lying to them, you’re not a monster.”

“It was so badass, you’re my new role model.” Yelena added.

“What about you, babe. Any nice words for your beloved?” You asked, poking Natasha’s side when you walked out of the cell.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” She muttered with a shake of her head, green eyes staring into yours. “So so stupid.”

“Sestra, this is not the nice jailbreak we agreed on.”

“For future reference, buying me flowers is a better way to show me you love me.” She smirked, grabbing onto your hand. “Gross, I forgot there was blood on your hands - wow, figuratively and literally.” She laughed. “No but seriously, we need to leave and when we get there you are going straight in the shower.”

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.” She winked before the four of you skillfully left the building unnoticed. It was a rushed goodbye to the other two women before you had to rush into Natasha’s car, packed bags in the back already. They were under strict instruction to not disclose the location of the safe house she’d been hiding all these years and anytime they’d visit must be carefully planned.

But you were on your way to your new life together, on the run from the Avengers but at least you were together. Everything you do is for her after all and everything she does is for you.

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woosluv · 1 year

Text

everything i didn’t say — hongjoong

- pairing: fem!reader x hongjoong

- rating / genre: G / fluff, angst, friends to lovers

- word count: 2.8k

- warnings: bad writing 🤡, eating scenes throughout, slight emotional constipation from everyone, mention of anxiety throughout, mentions feeling abandoned, heartbreak and then everything works out lol, kissing

- note: this moves kinda fast since it is a one shot for a specific person lol. this is also loosely inspired by everything i didn’t say by 5sos, except they were never in an official relationship. also, it takes like a weird turn and shifts weird halfway through? and this is my first work i’ve written since i last posted so i’m still getting into the groove of things i’m sorry 😭 anyway! this is dedicated to @carmelakimtodoroki for the special exchange event in @kflixnet !! hope you like what i wrote for you <3 @underworldnet

you sigh as you rub your eyes in exhaustion. another late night studying had snuck up on you. and even though you had promised your best friend you would try to keep your studying to a reasonable hour, you had gotten carried away going through all your case studies your professor had recommended you read.

you sit there for a moment before your stomach rumbles, breaking the silence in your room. you grab your stomach, hunger taking over now that you weren’t distracted by your studies. you decide it’s time to stop for the night, both your body and the time on your clock urging you to eat and sleep before you pass out at your desk.

you quickly got up and slipped an oversized hoodie and your pink slippers before making your way out of the apartment and towards the 7/11 down the street. you take the moment to take in the fresh air and the sound of the wind blowing softly passed you.

“yn!” you turn to face the direction the voice came from, a smile pulling at your lips when you see it’s your best friend, hongjoong. “joong.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath when he engulfs you in a warm embrace.

“why don’t you have pants on?” you open your eyes and look towards hongjoong in confusion. “what do you mean?” you lift your hoodie to showcase your pink shorts hiding underneath the large hoodie. hongjoong looks at you with a cute pout, an underlying firmness hidden behind it as he whined to you. “next time you wanna go out late at night, invite me. i don’t want anything happening to you. there’s a lot of bad people around.” you nod, looping your arm around his so you can pull him the rest of the way towards the bright convenience store just ahead. “you got it. now let’s go get some food, i’m starving.”

hongjoong followed you around the convenience store with a basket in hand, ready for when you picked out another snack you were craving. you spoke absentmindedly as you stated at the ice cream freezer. “let’s get ice cream after we finish eating.” hongjoong agrees and follows you to the cashier, putting his card on the counter as you reached for your wallet in your pocket.

you pouted. “i was gonna pay.” hongjoong chuckled as he grabbed the bag of food and walked towards the counter to heat everything up. “it’s fine. you can pay for the ice cream.” you sigh and nod in agreement.

“how’s your studying going?” you look at hongjoong leaning against the counter, arms propped on the edge behind him. you look him over as you speak. “it’s fine, i had a lot of work to do today but the case studies are really interesting.” hongjoong nods as he listens to you intently. “i see you’re still forgetting to eat dinner.” he’s scolding you now and you can’t help the blush that heats your face at his observation. “i told you, i don’t do it on purpose. i just lose track of time.”

hongjoong is carefully bringing your bowl of food towards you, speaking only once he’s placed it in front of you, one hand leaning on the table and the other on the back of the stool you’re sitting on as he speaks. “maybe i should make you live with me or something, because how am i supposed to make sure you’re taking care of yourself otherwise. i won’t know for sure unless i’m the one taking care of you.”

hongjoong is speaking to himself but you turn away at the way the heat rushes back to your face. “what are you even saying hongjoong.” you scoff as you bring a bite of food up to your mouth. hongjoong chuckles as he brings a hand up to wipe the sauce away from your chin and the corners of your mouth. “i’m saying you’re really just my big baby that i need to take care of 24/7.” you stare at him as he goes back to the counter to heat up his own food.

hongjoong meant what he said that night. he practically lived with you at this point, showing up at your doorstep at any hour with take out in hand or groceries to cook for you. he would knock out on the couch for a bit and when it was getting too late for hongjoong, he’d pull your glasses off your face and guide you to your bed where he’d tuck you in and then join in right behind you.

you’d seen more of hongjoong in a week than you had in the past month. his new dedication to really taking care of you all day every day brought on astray thoughts that you had never really considered since you first met the pretty boy all those years ago.

you pull yourself out of your head when you realize you were staring at hongjoong as he strummed random chords on his guitar, humming words you couldn’t quite hear. you decide it’s time for a break and join him on the couch.

“can you play something for me? it’s been a while since i’ve heard you play.” hongjoong nods as he takes a second to think of what he wants to play for you and then set up. you smile as you listen to the soft strumming of his fingers on the guitar.

the notes floated nicely around the room, the sweet tone of hongjoong’s voice following close behind. you watched as he immersed himself fully into the song, eyes closed as he sang each word wholeheartedly. you smiled as you watched him, so in his element and so authentically himself without a doubt.

just as he reached the bridge, the ringing of a phone startled you both out of whatever trance you were in. hongjoong’s eyes opened, flitting around the table as he searched for his phone. you decided to go get something to drink for you both as he picked up the phone.

“hello?” you could hear him answer the phone. you turned away as you pulled the pitcher of juice you made out of the fridge. “what? yeah. why?” you could hear the annoyance creeping up in his voice as the conversation continued. you looked at him worriedly. you could tell he was trying to be subtle and not let his emotions get out of control. finally, the conversation seemed to come to an end. “fine.”

you turned to put away the pitcher when you saw him stand and put his phone in his pocket. hongjoong sighed before gathering all his things in his bag and turning towards you. “sorry, i have to go. i’ll see you later, yeah?” you smiled and nodded as he made his way out the door.

x x

you didn’t see him later. in fact, you hadn’t seen him since that very moment when hongjoong walked out of your apartment 6 months ago. he had disappeared into thin air for a while. he didn’t answer your first few texts where you expressed your worry and asked if he was ok, you never saw him on campus anymore, and all your calls to his phone wouldn’t even go through. you let it be after the first few times. you had taken the hint and went on with life, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered around the crowd of faces every time you stepped on campus.

you sighed as you averted your eyes to the ground. you didn’t want to disappoint yourself for the umpteenth time in the past couple of months. you scolded yourself internally, telling yourself that it wasn’t worth it. that he wasn’t worth it.

suddenly, you’re stumbling back, two large hands grabbing you by your arms to steady you. “oh my goodness, i’m sorry. i wasn’t watching where i was going. are you ok?” you were looking forward now to see who you had accidentally bumped into.

it’s a tall boy, eyes soft and worried as he looked you over. you nodded. “i’m fine. i wasn’t even close to falling. and besides, i wasn’t looking where i was going either.” you offer him a smile. he sighs in relief. “uh, can i offer you come eat with me and my friends later? i feel bad now.” you put your hands up and shake your head. “you really don’t have to. it’s no big deal.”

the guy looks at his watch before he puts his hand out towards you. “give me your phone. i’ll put my number in and text you the spot and time.” you don’t know why you’re so compliant, but you give this random, nameless guy your unlocked phone after he asked for it. he hands it back. “i’ll see you later. bye!” and he’s off running in the opposite direction.

x x x

you honestly forget about your run in with the random guy earlier in the day. you were busy with school and rushing to get assignments done between classes. you’re just going about your day normally until your phone buzzes with a message.

yunho: meet at kbbq spot on the corner of first and third at 5 pm !

you smile at the text. of course. he even sounded cute over text. you respond in acknowledgment and continue with your homework until you need to get ready. but you can’t focus. not when you have dinner with a cute guy and his possibly cute friends in two hours. you sigh and lean back in your chair, holding your tummy as it tightens with anxiousness.

you decided you needed a shower to calm your nerves and also to freshen yourself up. the warm water relaxed your body and the smell of your floral scented soap calmed your senses.

with a newfound sense of calm, you opened your eyes and began washing your body, taking your time to scrub every part that you could reach and then treating yourself with your favorite body scrub afterwards.

you took your time looking through your clothes before settling on a lavender knitted sweater, light wash jeans, and your classic high top converse. something simple but still cute and satisfying. after you pinned your fringe back, you grabbed your bag and pulled out your phone to text yunho that you were on your way.

you spotted yunho first when you arrived. he smiled big as you approached, his hair jumping slightly as he excitedly bounced in his spot. you smiled back. “hey!” yunho pulled you towards where you guessed his friends were sitting. “hey! i’m glad you could make it. my friends are already sitting, they were waiting for us.” you nodded and followed him in excitement. “i hope they weren’t waiting too long.” yunho shook his head. “nah. and if they did, so what? they can wait.” you laughed at yunho’s words.

“hey everyone, this is the person i was telling you about.” you look across the table and freeze when you see who’s seated there. a chorus of greetings echoes around but you can’t help but just stand there as you think of a million ways you could possibly escape right now. you looked at yunho as he began introducing everyone. “this is seonghwa, yeosang, that’s san, mingi, wooyoung, jongho and that's hongjoong. and yuna is wooyoung’s girlfriend, mina is with seonghwa, and haneul is with hongjoong.” despite the wave of emotions you were feeling, you couldn’t help the genuine smile that pulled at your lips when you saw how happy and excited yunho was to introduce you to his friends, even though the situation had just rocked your world. “guys, this is yn.”

dinner had been going pretty well, with minimal contact with hongjoong. yunho, mingi and wooyoung had been keeping you busy for the most part, playing around and asking all sorts of questions. “oh my god!” wooyoung laughed at mingi as he sat there, pouting at the giant red stain on his pants.

you laughed a bit at the two before looking through your bag and pulling out a tiny tide stain remover stick. “maybe this will work?” mingi snatched it quickly and immediately rubbed at the stain on his pants. the stain didn’t completely lift, but it looked significantly better than how he had started. “ynnie, thank you so much. my life savior, i could kiss you right now.” you laughed as you grabbed the stick back from him. the comfort you felt with them brought out a side you had only ever shared with your closest friend who sat a couple chairs down. “dang, at least take me out first.” mingi doubled over in laughter at your words, causing you to smile big as you grabbed a few pieces of meat from the grill to place on the others plates.

x x

dinner had gone well and with no hiccups and now you were walking home, taking your time and taking in your surroundings. you were in a great mood, no doubt.

“hey, wait up!” you’re interrupted by someone’s gentle hand on your shoulder. you turn around to face the culprit and start panicking inside when you see hongjoong. “hey.” his cheeks and nose are pink from the cold weather, but you can’t help but think about how soft and cute he looks at this moment. he has a girlfriend.

your voice doesn’t want to work when you go to respond. “hey.” your voice is soft as you look him in the eyes, taking in how much his features have changed since the last time you saw him. he even looked at you with those same eyes, all soft and gentle as he took care of you.

“i wanted to tell you i’m sorry.” you’re a bit stunned and confused. “what do you mean?” hongjoong looks at you confused. “for everything. for invading your space 24/7, for not telling you anything, for not calling or texting… for leaving you with no explanation that day.” you exhale loudly at his apology. you never thought you’d hear an apology from him, let alone see him again.

“i had to leave. they made me leave you.” you put your hands out to stop him. “why are you apologizing?” hongjoong falters and begins fidgeting around when you ask him that. “look, i appreciate it, but i don’t understand. it felt like you played me, like everything was a lie. you hurt me, hongjoong.”

“i know, i know. i didn’t mean to.” you shake your head. “no, hongjoong. i don’t think you do know. do you know how it feels to be taken care of, loved, cherished so deeply?” hongjoong nods at your question. “and do you know how it feels to have that ripped away out of nowhere with zero explanation? abandoned? and the thoughts that ran through my head?” you scoff when hongjoong just looks at you. “goodbye, hongjoong.” you go to turn away but he grabs your wrist. “wait.”

your upset and you want to leave so you can lay in bed and cry over losing your best friend and the only man you had ever truly loved the way that you did. “what, hongjoong. i’m tired, i want to go home.” hongjoong could see the tears welling up in your eyes. “do you remember the song i sang for you that day?” you take a deep breath and look away for a moment to catch your breath and push the tears down. “yeah, i do.” he sighed. “you remember the words?” you looked at him and nodded.

“i could never tell you because i was too scared of ruining our friendship, but i love you.” the air was knocked out of you in that instant. “i’ve loved you since the moment we met when you got mad at me for passing my test perfectly without trying when you worked so hard. i’ve loved you since graduation when you got me that personalized guitar and took me busking in different cities all night to support my dreams. i loved you then and i love you now.”

you’re speechless. “but you have a girlfriend.” hongjoong takes that as a good sign and chuckles as he grabs your hands. “she’s not actually my girlfriend, just someone my parents have been trying to set me up with. the guys like her and get along, so i bring her around sometimes.” you nod. “so… what do you say?” you look at him for a moment, trying to process everything you just heard.

you smile at him and then nod. hongjoong smiles back before placing both his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in close. “thank you.” he whispers so softly you can barely hear him. the only thing you do is reach up a little further before placing your lips on his. you pulled back slightly so you could speak to him softly. “i love you too.”

#kfn: the exchange event #kflixnet #underworldnet #[🦁] hongjoong content #🍄 my writing #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fics

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nativehueofresolution · 8 months

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i support people's right to have fun with aus that don't completely line up with canon characterizations, but i personally have trouble getting into fics where armand chooses to let daniel die, because to me armand turning daniel is so inevitable.

in their early years of the cat and mouse chase, armand and daniel talk quite a bit about death (as well as every other topic under the sun), and it's clear that as much as armand thinks being a vampire is curse, he's terrified not only of dying, but of what comes after death.

much later on, during another one of their arguments where armand is attempting to convince daniel being a vampire is a terrible fate, he says he'd have killed himself by now if he weren't afraid of death.

while it communicates armand's unhappiness with immortality, it's also not a great argument to make if he's trying to dissuade daniel from wanting to be a vampire? he's saying 'i deeply hate this, but i still can't give it up, because the thought of what comes next is too terrifying'. he's actually validating daniel's belief that death is the worst fate possible even as he's trying to talk him into staying a mortal. if he can't fully convince himself to accept death, how can he convince daniel?

moreover, armand connects his relationship with daniel to the fact that he finally wants to live again - that he actually doesn't want the world to end, when before it wouldn't have mattered to him.

armand has at long last begun to enjoy living again after their time together, but without daniel? he wouldn't be able to go on. armand is not someone who can easily let things go, it's one of the reasons why he's responsible for a lot of his own misery. so no, he can't let daniel go - it's possibly the defining element of their relationship. he wouldn't let daniel go after they first met, he chased him across the globe. and he couldn't let daniel go when they were stuck in an on again/off again cycle. sure, he gave daniel the illusion of choice during their years on night island, letting him leave many times - but he kept track of him, ready to swoop in the moment daniel became desperate or incapacitated (as armand knew he would, because he'd systematically taken away daniel's independence and ability to care of himself while smothering him with affection, not to mention his awareness of daniel's addictions). his fear of someone else taking daniel away from him is why he gave him the amulet, why he attempted to give him the cushiest cage possible so he never ventured to the outside. all the while, armand and daniel have both convinced themselves that when push comes to shove, the historically selfish and impatient armand will keep to his sacred vow of not turning anyone, because he believes it's always a mistake. keep in mind, armand has already worked around this some in the past by compelling louis to turn madeline as part of his scheme to have them free to run off together. armand is keeping the letter of the vow, but we already know he can talk himself into workarounds if he thinks it's necessary to keep someone he loves.

the inherent contradiction of armand saying he values daniel's life more than his own, more than anything, but also resigning him to a fate he's terrified of is always present in the devil's minion. it sets a ticking clock in the relationship to see which part he means more, but to me there could really only be one answer with the levels of devotion, anxiety, and possessiveness daniel brings out in armand.

even when armand does let daniel go in a relational sense during their tva era break-up, armand specifically says that at that time daniel is alive and well, but has become disillusioned with armand. and that clearly hurts armand - he is obviously not well for a variety of reasons at the time he's dictating this - but he will cope with losing daniel's love if daniel is alive to resent him, healthy, traveling again (notice how like all of these are not really true for long, if they ever were at all, but they're one of the many lies armand is forcing himself to believe he can attempt to build a new life). that's why i think even if daniel did somehow have a change of heart and say he accepted his death, what would actually follow is armand would eventually realize just how much of a hypocrite he is - that no matter how important he said this vow was to him, no matter how much he'd been trying to convince daniel to accept mortality, when push came to shove armand would not be able to go through with it. even if daniel no longer wanted it, he would choose to blow up their relationship and turn him (which really is basically what he already views himself as doing in canon). he would keep daniel, in whatever way he could, even if it destroyed them, and obliterated armand's fragile sense individuality and one moral rule. he couldn't do anything else.

#devil's minion #iwtv #like yes armand had to make his choice then and there but if he'd had more time i genuinely don't think it would have changed anything #except he would have agonized over it more #idk how much in the amc series daniel brushing off louis's offer is meant to be taken seriously. it seemed to be a bit of a mind game #but if daniel did conceivably change his mind after living several decades (and possibly missing quite a bit of his memories)#i think what would follow next is armand having a complete breakdown as he realizes the full extent of his hypocrisy and self delusion #as he tries to make the very same arguments he used to dismiss coming from daniel #everything's changed but nothing has. if you get it you get it #now daniel dying because armand couldn't find him in time after he left and started spiraling. that i can easily imagine #kaitlin speaks

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freesia-writes · 2 months

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Crosshair x Reader, Post Episode 3

SPOILERS for the first three episodes of The Bad Batch season 3.

Just a little drabble of where Crosshair and Omega may have gone while trying to figure out what to do next after escaping. I originally wanted it to be a lot more touchy/romantic/comforting/warm and fuzzy/etc but it just didn't come out that way cause it felt like it would have been forcing it. So here's 2.7k words of just... comfort.

GN Reader, 2.7k words, SFW. Previous intimacy alluded to in one sentence. Dividers by @ve-ti-ver. <3

The knock on your door is so quiet, it seems as though the person on the other side is second-guessing every move. You pause your holofilm, glancing at the clock and grumbling that it’s far later than you thought. Must have lost track of time as usual. Pulling your robe around you and fastening it around your waist, you shuffle to the entryway, grabbing your blaster out of habit. No matter how much of a backwater planet this is, you’ve heard stories of the Empire showing up with zero warning and wrecking an entire way of life, and you’re not about to lose everything you’ve worked so hard to protect.

A glance through the peephole freezes you in your tracks.

You look to the side, scanning the perimeter cameras to see if there’s anyone else on the property. You can’t believe your eyes. But something inside of you is compelling you, more strongly than you’d ever have anticipated, but then again, you’d never have thought something like this would happen. You press the button and the front door whooshes open.

“Crosshair?!” you whisper in disbelief, taking in his very different appearance. There’s a girl at his elbow, looking tired but curious, and they’re both in some weird white outfits covered in mud and grass stains. “What the kriff…”

“Can we come in?” His voice is broken. Weathered. It taps at the edges of your fortified heart.

“You alone?”

“Very.”

* * *

The fire has grown low in the hearth, reduced to the occasional flicker above glowing coals that emit a cozy scent. The girl, Omega as you’ve learned, is fast asleep on the couch, and Crosshair is hunched in the armchair across from you. You’ve never seen him look like this – his silver hair is gone, replaced by a hint of stubble and a hideous scar. He seems a shell of what he was, and you yearn to ask him everything, but he looks so, so tired. They’d both been grateful for the soup you offered, but no amount of insistence on your part had been able to convince him to take a nap in your bed. So instead you sat quietly in the living room, alternating between sporadic, pointless conversation and long stretches of silence.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” you confessed, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Sorry,” he muttered, saying nothing else.

“What… uh… What are you doing? Like… Why are you here?”

“The long-range communicator on the shuttle was damaged. We need to contact our… Some others.”

“Ah. I don’t have anything like that…”

“Where’s the closest comm center?”

“I can show you tomorrow.”

“Mmm.”

“Crosshair?” you said, more softly now. The faintest wince crossed his face before disappearing without a trace. He lifted his sharp eyes to your face, his face completely passive, and waited. “I don’t know what all you’ve been through, but…” You faltered, unsure what you were even trying to express. A quick sigh, a shift of the gaze, a reposition in your seat… “Well, just let me know how I can help.”

He nodded, eyes drifting back to the floor beneath shoulders that hunched beneath a thousand regrets.

* * *

You’d apologized a few times about the scattered assortment of food in front of your guests, having had to throw together a dinner the next day with what you had left in your cooling chamber and cupboards. Money was tight and the added mouths made it difficult. But you’d managed to scrounge something acceptable, and Omega had gratefully proclaimed that it was more than enough. Better than the bland nuggets she’d survived on for months, at least. Crosshair was silent, but the way he ate – intentionally and without hurry – hinted at a bit of enjoyment.

The comm center had been mercifully empty, allowing them to get a transmission out, but there had been no reply. Crosshair’s encryption knowledge was impressive, and you made plans to return the next day to see if there would be any response, although he seemed fairly certain there would not be. Omega refused to believe such a thing, insisting that things would only get better from here.

Another night of staring silently at each other across the tiny living room, with the girl sleeping fitfully on the couch and your feet stretched out opposite his. He’d slept in the armchair the night before, and you’d accidentally woken him with a start when you appeared in the kitchen, feeling terrible for the awkward way his tall frame was bent and crumpled in slumber.

“It’s been… what… almost five years?” you said quietly, staring into the flames of the hearth as it pushed away the nighttime chill, encompassing all of you in its warm glow.

“Who knows,” came the curt reply.

“I’m surprised you even remembered where I lived,” you pointed out, unable to decide if you were pleased or paranoid by that revelation.

“Hmm.”

Conversation stopped and started, and you found yourself noticing more about him that seemed different from before, although you weren’t sure your memory was accurate. You’d only seen each other a handful of times, when he was the signature snarky member of Clone Force 99 during the war. When the Republic became the Empire, everything seemed to hit the fan, and nothing had been quite the same since. Now, he was carefully guarded, seemingly unfazed by anything, but the occasional twitch of a muscle seemed to indicate pain or trauma of sorts. There was a tremor in his hand that was always quickly stifled by a clenched fist or grasp from the other, as well as a grimace of frustration. But most of all, the haunted look in his eyes chilled you to the core. You were known for your compassion, and the impact of the war on so many innocents across the galaxy rested heavily on your shoulders. It was easy to spiral if you dwelt on it too long, so you pushed it away and worked hard to fortify both your heart and home.

* * *

“Crosshair! It’s there!” Omega exclaimed, tapping rapidly on the control panel at the comm center. “Look!”

He sidled up beside her, leaning over her shoulder to squint at the screen. A transmission had indeed come through, although by the look on his face, you couldn’t tell if he was relieved or repulsed.

“Good news, I hope?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“They can meet us in a few days!” Omega read, tracing her finger across the lines of text. “They just have to… drop off a few… kids?” She glanced at Crosshair with questioning eyes, and his expression almost made you laugh aloud.

“Hunter is so kriffing soft,” he muttered, face sour with disgust.

“Well either way… We’re going home!” she insisted, eyes filling with tears. You felt a sense of awe at the girl’s ineffable hope in the face of so much pain, and you hoped her attitude would inspire Crosshair a bit too.

“There is no home,” he spat, turning to exit the building, arms clasped around himself.

No such luck, it seemed.

* * *

Things felt somehow lighter that evening. You’d picked up a large pot of soup from a friend on the way, effusive with thanks and promises to make it up to him, and had enough supplies at home to make a large loaf of bread. It felt like a good night for a candle, creating a distinctly cozy atmosphere as the three of you crowded around your tiny table, bent over steaming bowls of fairly bland soup.

“So how did you and Crosshair meet?” Omega asked, realizing that part had somehow been left out so far.

“Who cares,” he grunted, casting a sideways glance at her.

“I do,” she said simply, and you found yourself smiling at the stark contrast between the two of them.

“His squad was here a few times during the war. The first time, they were held up for… what was it? Technical issues?” You glanced at him, hoping for a better memory than your own, but he barely made an effort to lift a single shoulder in a noncommittal shrug, so you continued. “Well, something like that. The other times, I’m not quite sure what happened.” A wry smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. “He just happened to find himself here.”

“Hm. Well it’s nice to have old friends,” she nodded, missing the tiny look you flashed his way as she moved on to ask about your own life experiences.

* * *

Another day of work, another evening of sitting by the fire. The quiet felt soothing, somehow. Perhaps you were imagining it, but it seemed to be some sort of salve for whatever he’d endured, and the sight of him allowing himself to relax, just a little, warmed your heart. You felt a bit jittery too, however, having come up with a plan that you hoped he’d agree to, but you were fully expecting to get raked over the coals for it too. So when Omega was fast asleep, and he had slumped further and further in his chair with the passing minutes, you rose to your feet, stretching the stiffness away.

“Can you help me with something?” you ventured tentatively.

“No,” he said, not moving a muscle as he sat there with his eyes closed. You were equally miffed and amused, but the slight reminder of his old snark goaded you on.

“Then get out,” you quipped. He cracked an eye to assess you with a squint.

“No.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, “But please come here.” Your tone softened, an honest request, and he got up with an eyeroll. You led the way to your bedroom, which was really just a single bed stuffed against the wall with some space on the side and at the foot.

“No,” was all he could say when you set foot inside and turned to face him, earning a little eyeroll and chuckle from you this time.

“That’s not what I’m–”

“Just leave me be,” he snapped, with a slight sharpness that sobered you up very quickly.

“Alright, stop it.” You’d had enough, for now at least. “I get that you’ve been through it. And you can make yourself pay for all your terrible deeds for the rest of your life. But you’re not accomplishing anything by this… martyr stuff.”

“Say what you want,” he sniffed. “I’m not sleeping with you again.”

Now you did laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth at the flash of affront that quickly dissipated behind his sardonic expression. “Nope,” you shook your head, “Not where I was going. I want you to sleep here–”

“No.”

“--and I will sleep on an air pad in the living room,” you finished. “I borrowed one from my friend when we picked up the soup.”

“No.”

“Maker above, Crosshair!!” you breathed, thoroughly exasperated. “Just get one night of rest for your pathetic, sad body and stop insisting on being miserable!”

“How insensitive,” he hissed, lips pressed together as he scrutinized you with dark eyes.

“If you don’t, I’m waking up Omega and kicking you both out.”

“Going after the kid? That’s just cruel,” he taunted.

“Yeah, well, I mean it,” you said, and he could tell by your tone that you did. There was a frustration that had risen like a dragon out of deep slumber, and your eyes glittered with challenge. “Now stop arguing with me, take a hot shower, and allow yourself one kriffing night of comfortable sleep.” Without waiting for a response, because you were fairly certain you’d start yelling if he said “no” one more time, you turned on your heel and marched out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

You waited a moment in the hallway, half expecting him to come right back out, but it was quiet. A thought crossed your mind, based on what little you knew about what had happened to him, and you turned back, knocking once before opening the door.

“Changed your mind?” he drawled.

“No,” you said obstinately. “But… I mean… You’re not a prisoner in there… But just… Like… You can go wherever you want… except… I want you to sleep there… So… Stay there… But you’re free to go… Oh kriff.” You could swear you saw the ghost of a smirk on his sharp features as you waved him off and closed the door again, and the tiny snort of mirth that reached your ears definitely wasn’t a figment of your imagination. The memories that surfaced suddenly were surprising in their potency – his strong fingers entwined with yours, hands clenched together on your pillow, his heavy breath against your neck – and you fought them off as you made your bed in the living room, trying, and not always succeeding, to write them off as relics of a past life.

* * *

You knew one night of sleep wasn’t going to magically fix him, but there was a muted look on his face when he emerged the next morning, accepting your proffered cup of caf with a wordless tip of the chin. You left for work with the standard lecture of where everything was and how to avoid getting into trouble, which both he and Omega received with good-natured eyerolls and nods. They were scheduled to meet their friends the next morning, and you’d been shocked at the magnitude of care you felt toward both of them after just a few days. From what you’d gathered, they’d both been through suffering beyond belief, and you wished you could just snap your fingers and make it all go away.

You made some tea that evening, as you returned to your customary seats by the fire, and he took the mug from your hand without any protest. You noticed later that he never actually drank any but left it steaming on the table beside him. The conversation was sparse, and you couldn’t quite determine why it was that he seemed so dreary when he was about to be reunited with his family. But there was no need to press, and you were grateful that he tolerated your company at all, considering the shell of a person he seemed to be.

After a long silence, he got up, grimacing through some stiff stretches and turning to head toward the hallway.

“Ahem,” you said, arching an eyebrow as he looked back. “Where do you think you’re going?” You made no effort to hide the playful smirk on your face, thoroughly undeterred by his narrowed eyes in response.

“Bed.”

“I said ‘one night’ of comfortable sleep,” you jabbed, watching him press his lips into a thin line at the way you’d caught him in a tricky position. He turned without a word to head back to the chair, but you were on your feet quickly, waving both hands with a dumb grin on your face. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Please. Go.”

He cast one last steely squint in your direction before disappearing, and you hoped that his old spark would continue to return, inch by inch, wherever he ended up.

* * *

The next morning, they were packed and ready at the door. Omega had given you a short, chaste hug and heartfelt thanks before heading outside, pausing to take a deep breath of the fresh air. Crosshair lingered for a moment, staring at the ground before muttering something under his breath.

“What’s that?” you poked, stepping closer and tilting your head to try to catch his gaze.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, lifting his chin to look at you evenly.

“I believe the words are ‘thank you’, but if you need to get a few ‘no’s in there first, I’ll allow it.”

He snorted.

“I hope it all works out for you two,” you said, moving on to some sincerity. “I… I’m sorry for all that’s happened.” His brow furrowed for a moment before relaxing back into an expressionless line, and he stood silently, leaving you room to shift awkwardly on your feet and flex your hands at your sides. Everything simmering under the surface was hard for you to ignore, and you lifted one shaky hand toward his face, pausing as he stiffened at the sight of it.

You lowered it slowly.

“Sorry,” you whispered, returning it to your side.

He reached forward suddenly, taking it and shaking it briefly, holding on for a split second, then letting go.

“Thanks for everything.”

I really wanted there to be some cheek-cupping and head-stroking and the slow closing of the eyes in quiet allowance of affection. But he's just not there yet, in my estimation. So I kinda want to apologize for this existing at all, LOL, but whatever. 😂

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